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mamaspresley · 4 years

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relentless | boxer!ch (2)

Part 1 here

Chapter 2

Jab. Swing. Duck. Kick. Swing.

Calum's movements were fast, smooth and focused as he bounced on his feet, his attention never straying from outside the cage. He could hear his friends' shouts of encouragement, the crowd's cheers when one opponent landed a hit and the other took a stumble—in most cases, the former being Calum and the latter being the dickhead he was fighting tonight.

He knew he was good—hell, he was the best fighter Sunny's had ever seen—but Calum never let that get to his head. Not even when it was his 100th fight at Sunny's, and most of those hundred matches ended in Calum’s victory. He was good, no one could doubt, and the match he was in currently just furthered that statement. Calum was quick on his feet as were his eyes, which never left his opponent's chest while he bent at the knees, fists up and ready to defend a punch before throwing one of his own.

Calum ducked, feeling the breeze of his opponent's fist graze past him before Calum lurched forward, hooking his right arm and landing a solid punch to the guy's jaw, causing him to stumble backwards in retaliation. Calum could feel the impact on his knuckles but he didn't pay it much attention—the pain could be dealt with later. For now, his attention was on finishing the match and claiming victory. His determination had already faltered in the second round, when he hooked his right leg around his opponent’s and knocked him down. The fall was bad, a loud snap sounding directly after the thud of his body hitting the mat. Calum had never intended to break his leg—it had just. . . happened.

Ashton pulled in another dude to finish off the match. Since it was the first second and Calum was up by enough, everyone knew he had already won. But they needed to fill in the time, so one of the regulars at the gym stepped up and volunteered. Really, Calum just wanted to be done and go home, but he knew the people who came wanted to watch a full fight. Plus, he wanted full pay.

Calum took another step forward, swinging his right arm and connecting his fist with Jefferson’s jaw. The boy shook it off, preparing a hit of his own. Both boys knew they were just messing around at this point, neither of them caring for a real fight. It was amusing to Calum, watching as Jefferson would critique his punches with a small scoff, and Calum would playfully make some snarky remark before ducking from his own punches.

“Weak,” Jefferson mocked when Calum swung and the man easily ducked. The Maori boy rolled his eyes, hooking his foot under the man's leg and tripping him, causing Jefferson to land on the mat with a thud. He got back to his feet, running a hand through his short buzzed hair. “Come on, Hood. Give the people what they want.”

Calum let out a laugh, lifting his shorts a bit as he bent his knees. “You mean what you want? I know you dream of my fist in your ass, Jefferson. Wanna call it quits, meet in the showers?” The boy teased, and his opponent only chuckled a bit before landing a punch to the tanned boy’s stomach. Calum groaned, feeling some air leave his lungs as he lurched over.

“Quit fuckin’ around,” Jefferson scoffed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Quickly, Calum caught his breath and threw a punch, making Jefferson’s head snap to the side at the impact. “Uppercut,” the shorter boy mumbled as Calum placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down. “I’ll stay down, end the match.” Following his words, Calum connected his knee to his stomach and ended it with a punch that had Jefferson on the ground. The crowd chanted to five and when the man didn't get up, a whistle was blown and the referee stepped in the middle of the two men, grabbing Calum's hand and lifting it in the air.

"And the winner of tonight's fight: Calum Hood!"

Not surprising, but that rush of serotonin that Calum felt once crowned champion still felt identical to the night he'd won his first fight. It felt good. Calum, sporting a smug smirk on his lips, shook the ref's hand, and then helped Jefferson up off the mat. They shook hands, and Calum gave him a silent nod that both of the boys acknowledged. Basking in his glory, Calum climbed out of the caged ring, a towel thrown over his aching shoulder while he held his Gatorade bottle with his bruised hand. A few pats on the back and words of congratulations were thrown at him as Calum made his way to his friends, finally reaching them near the opposite side from where the door of the cage was.

"Another win for the books, huh?" Michael exclaimed as he saw the boy approach, hopping down from where he was previously leaning over the cage, and the rest of the group followed Michael's words. Shouts of elation erupted from his friends and Calum only laughed, shrugging them off as a heat rose to his cheeks. Calum could be cocky all he wanted, but when it came to his friends he kept it humble. He didn’t think of himself as a jackass unless inside the ring. Michael clapped him on the back, squeezing his uninjured shoulder. "That uppercut you knocked Jefferson out with at the last second—whew. Had me breathless, Cal."

"Yeah, yeah. Keep it in your pants, mate." Calum waved the boy off, masking his amused grin while he lifted his bottle to his lips, squirting the water into his mouth and purposefully missing some to let it trickle down his chin to cool him off.

As Calum wiped his chin with the back of his hand, his brown eyes lifted to meet an unfamiliar pair, belonging to a girl who Calum had never seen before. He couldn't tell if she was previously staring or had just caught his eye the same time he caught her's, but something about her confident stance and cool aura made him doubt the former. She looked away after a split second, glancing back to her friends, one of which being a tall sandy haired boy that Calum recognized. Scoffing, the Maori boy hollered, "Oi, Irwin! What's more important: your groupies or your best client?"

Calum watched as the twenty five year old apologized hastily to the two girls before excusing himself to make his way over to Calum. From the second he turned around to the exact moment his eyes laid on Calum, Ashton's attitude changed completely as his lips curled up in a grin while his hazel eyes lit up with pride. "My boy!" Ashton whistled, raising a hand that Calum met with his own before pulling him in for a proud hug. Ashton pulled, letting out a laugh as he slung an arm over his close friend's shoulder. "Fuck, dude! That last round went by in a breeze. I barely blinked before it was over."

Pushing out a throaty laugh, Calum only flipped the water bottle in his hand, responding with a sly, "Told you we'd be celebratin' tonight," before laying his eyes back on the raven haired girl standing a few feet away, her attention on the blonde standing near her as they chatted. Leaning closer to Ashton, Calum hit the boy's chest with the back of his hand lightly before pointing in the girls' direction with his near-empty bottle. "Your groupies—why haven't I seen them before?"

"Natalie and Camille. Met them during the first round—they're chill, don’t worry."

Ashton knew how Calum felt about outsiders at his matches. It was called illegal fighting for a reason, so he sure as hell didn’t want any untrustworthy people showing up and potentially being a mole. Ashton's answer seemed to satisfy Calum though, as the Maori boy only hummed, allowing his eyes to linger on the brunette a little longer before bringing his attention back to more important matters—specifically the location of where they'd be settling for beers later that night.

“Oi, where’s Hemmings?” Calum asked after glancing around the group and noting the tall blond’s disappearance. He could’ve sworn he was there at the beginning of the match—Luke never missed a fight.

“Had to leave after the second round,” Michael explained, his arm wrapped around his fiancee, Crystal’s, shoulders. “Wanted me to tell you something but to be completely honest, I forgot. Something about Haley, I think.”

Just at the girl’s name, Calum understood what the blond was trying to get back to him. And that was enough for Calum to nod and shrug off the matter—he knew the reason Luke had to leave. It was too bad he couldn’t be bothered for drinks afterwards, though.

***

"Seems a little tiring, celebratin' me each night,'' Calum said modestly as he gestured to Ashton with his full bottle of Corona. The boy raised an eyebrow, urging Calum to go on. If he was gonna hijack his toast, he might as well explain himself. So Calum cleared his throat, jutting his chin up confidently. "I'm just sayin'," he drawled, "toast someone else for a change. The only thing I do is climb in the ring and beat a couple guys up. Y'all are too good to me, really."

"Why aren't you this humble in the ring?" Michael jeered, and Calum rolled his eyes before nudging his friend playfully as the blond laughed.

Calum didn't miss the lingering gaze on him, burning his skin while he talked to Michael. Calum took it upon himself to peel his eyes away from his friend, only for them to meet the same pair of eyes that’d been staring. They belonged to the same girl Ashton had been talking to earlier in the night, a friend of the girl he previously had slung under his arm. For whatever reason, her name slipped Calum's mind but he figured he'd be reminded of it at some point later that night. For now, Ashton was finishing his toast and Calum glanced back at his friend, who stood at the head of the table with one foot on his chair and his elbow resting on his knee. Calum let out a hearty chuckle as Ashton cleared his throat.

"As many of you know, tonight was Calum's one hundredth fight in the ring at Sunny's. Wasn’t necessarily what any of us expected, but fuck, did he make me proud," the boy stated. Calum felt his cheeks lift into a smile as he looked down at his drink. "There hasn't been a better fighter to walk into my gym in the time I’ve owned it. I've known this kid for three years now, and I can't stress enough how proud I am of him. So, with that being said, to Calum," Ashton declared, his hazel eyes meeting Calum's darker ones as he raised his beer. "My best friend, my brother. And a damn good fighter."

"To Calum!"

Everyone took a swig of whatever drinks they were sporting and Calum only grinned before lifting the bottle of his beer to his lips.

The Maori boy sat in the middle of the booth, directly across from the head of the table, surrounded by his friends. Ashton had slid back into the booth, Camille under his arm, while Michael sat to Calum’s left with Crystal. Unfortunately, Calum’s closest friend Luke couldn't make it because he had 'important things to tend to', meaning he was finally going to break things off with his girlfriend. Haley was batshit crazy, as Calum liked to describe her, and it only further proved his statement when she would pull things like tracking his location and showing up when he and the boys were hanging out alone. She accused him of cheating when Haley found Luke talking to another girl—the girl being Calum's sister Mali, who was visiting from London at the time—and that had really been the last straw for Luke. They'd only been together for a few months, but Calum had found a sense of relief when his close pal had let him know through Michael that he was finally ending things. Despite his best friend not being able to attend the outing they'd planned specifically to celebrate Calum, the Maori boy didn't mind. Luke rarely missed these things anyway.

Although the blond Australian couldn't make it to drinks, Ashton and Michael, Calum’s second and third closest mates, were there with their girls. Ash wasn't one for relationships or commitments, claiming that he had just met Camille hours previous, but from the way the two were flirting, Calum had a hard time believing it. He knew it was true, that they’d met completely by chance only hours before, but if anyone were to see them together, they'd think they had been a couple for much longer. Ashton was happy with her, happier than Calum had ever seen him before, and despite not knowing her very well, Calum could sense Ashton made Camille happy too. They were quite cute together, Ashton's arm slung snug around her shoulders while Camille laughed giddily at a joke he cracked. It almost made Calum sick to watch. He wasn't one for love and romance. Though, neither was Ashton until tonight.

A couple more hours into the night and Calum was proper buzzed. He was sitting at the bar, nursing his third beer of the hour, when he felt the energy around him shift. A girl had seated herself in the empty chair on Calum’s right, drawing a few men's attention though she didn't seem to notice, and if she did then she didn't seem to care. Calum, being one pair of the many eyes lingering on her, raised his eyebrows at her.

"You're Camille's friend," the raven haired boy blurted, speaking before he thought, which was clearly due to the alcohol in his system. Though, with how intoxicated he was, Calum didn't miss the way his heart picked up its pace at her faint smile.

"You're Ashton's friend," she returned, earning a messy smile to fall across the boy's lips as he nodded. Reaching across to hold out her hand, she introduced herself. "I'm Natalie."

Natalie. It was a pretty name. It suited her. "I'm Calum." He shook the girl's hand, feeling the warmth of her skin on his and noting the way her smaller hand fit so perfectly into his, like a puzzle piece. The smile never left his lips, and neither did his dark eyes on her lighter brown ones. "Can I buy you a drink?"

She raised her perfectly kept eyebrows at his statement, like she hadn't expected his offer, before nodding. While ordering another beer for himself, Calum bought the girl a tequila. When she told him her order, Calum had blurted, “Classy,” which earned him a laugh from the girl. It was the most beautiful sound Calum had ever heard, and he wanted to hear more of it.

“Tell me about yourself, Calum.” Natalie held her drink in her hands, her index finger and thumb pulling at the straw as she wrapped her lips around it. Calum peeled his eyes away from the sight, laying them on her brown irises instead. There was a playfulness in them, like she was teasing him.

“Didn’t realize this was a job interview?” This earned another laugh from Natalie. Calum took it upon himself to do anything he could to make her laugh all night. He never wanted to go without hearing the sound. It sounded like heaven. What the fuck was he thinking? Calum wasn’t this guy. He wasn’t romantic, and he sure as hell didn’t swoon over girls he just met.

“You’re quite beautiful,” Calum had said later in the night, after a few minutes of them chatting. Apparently, Calum didn’t have a filter when he drank. This was unusual for the boy, who was usually so reserved and quiet, only speaking when he needed to. Instead, he was blurting every thought that popped into his mind, all the while nursing a slight buzz from his fourth and fifth beers.

“Thank you,” Natalie had responded politely, a smile curling at her lips from the compliment. Something caught her eye as she peered behind Calum, and the boy glanced over his shoulder to see someone coming in from the side door. His eyes flickered back to Natalie, who was already looking at him. “I’m getting a little warm, I think I’m going to grab some fresh air.”

The eagerness in his voice was almost embarrassing as Calum jumped to his feet, eyebrows rising. “Do you mind if I join you? Could use a smoke right now.” As soon as the words left his lips, Calum mentally face-palmed. This was just embarrassing.

Despite his subconscious’s efforts to convince himself he was being totally lame, Natalie thought he was quite cute. So she nodded, adding a smile as she said, “Sure. I’d like the company.”

Calum followed Natalie across the floor and grabbed the door for her, earning a light “Thank you,” from the girl when she stepped outside. Calum slipped behind her, letting the door fall shut and feeling the brisk summer air meet his skin. It wasn’t cold, but the forecast for tonight was wind that didn’t do much except raise goosebumps on his arms. He was lucky enough to be wearing something over his tee, so he was shielded from the breeze, but Calum watched as Natalie wrapped her arms around herself. He frowned.

While the dark haired girl took a seat on the concrete steps below them, Calum shrugged off his jacket, draping it over her shoulders. She glanced up, a genuine smile raising her lips as Calum sat himself down next to her.

“You mind if I smoke?” He was already digging out his pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. Natalie shook her head, curling into his jacket—it was much too big for her, but Calum thought it looked perfect—and letting out a shaky breath. The Maori boy lit his cigarette, shielding the flame with one hand while the other worked the lighter. Speaking with the dart between his lips, Calum mumbled, “Nasty habit. ’M tryna quit.”

She shook her head. “All good.” Once the cigarette was lit, Calum took a long drag before pulling it away between his two fingers and letting out some smoke. He could sense her watching him, so politely, Calum held his hand out in front of the girl and she took the cigarette almost instantly. "Thanks.”

“Didn’t think you were one to smoke.” Calum’s eyes followed the cigarette up to her lips. She held it between her thumb and index finger, long acrylic nails bright against the rather dark night as she took a drag. Natalie shook her head, blowing some smoke out.

“Not often.” She took another breath of the nicotine and tobacco in while crossing her ankles, tapping the toes of her white stilettos against one another. Natalie glanced up at Calum, pulling the cigarette away from her lips and holding it between her fingers before mumbling, "Congratulations on the win tonight. Looked like you were about to knock that guy dead by the end of it."

The boy let out a chuckle, shaking his head as he took back his cigarette at her offering. "I nearly did the first time." Calum brought the dart up to his lips, sucking in as she watched him. He let out a cloud of smoke, letting some linger in his lips before blowing it out. His brown eyes lifted to meet Natalie and he raised his eyebrows. “You catch the first half? Broke that guy’s femur—Fuckin’ awful sound.”

Natalie grimaced. “Didn’t see it. Thank God for it, I might’ve passed out.” Calum let out a chuckle at that, nodding as he brought the cigarette back to his lips. The boy raised a singular eyebrow down at her.

“You cold?”

She scoffed. "Not nearly as cold as you.” Natalie gestured down to his fitted black tee, and Calum only shook his head. “Thanks for the jacket.”

"’Course.” The cigarette was lifted to his lips once again and Calum held it there, eyes trained on the graffiti-covered wall in front of them. His fingers played in his lap, working the rings around his digits as he spoke, “Camille seems like a nice girl. Didn't know Ash was seein' anyone." Calum took another drag of the cigarette, bringing his legs up to the step below, and letting his elbows rest on his knees. His arms dropped, the cancer stick held between his two fingers. "Havin’ a hard time believin’ they met tonight. You sure they only met a couple hours ago?”

"I wouldn't know anyways," Natalie said, a hint of annoyance in her tone. Calum hoped it wasn’t directed to him. "I haven't seen Camille in forever. First time seeing her tonight in a year, actually." Calum urged her to go on. "I live back East. Childhood best friends."

"Ah." Calum nodded—he knew how that worked. His best friend as a younger boy was still his best friend now. Though, unlike Natalie and Camille, the two Australian boys had stuck by each other all these years. From birth up to moving to America together, Luke and Calum had been with each other through thick and thin. "So you’re visiting L.A.?” She nodded. “When do you go back? Home, I mean."

There was a hint of disappointment in Calum's voice when he asked the simple question, and he was just as taken aback as Natalie was to the underlying hurt and curiosity. He'd met her ten minutes ago—the fuck did Calum have any business bidding her a goodbye?

"July 30th," Natalie answered, shrugging into Calum's jacket as a cold wind breezed past then. He wanted to ask her if she wanted to go in, since it seemed to only be getting colder, but Calum selfishly wanted to keep talking to the girl. And God knows he couldn't do that inside with the loud music and the chaos sprouting from every corner.

"Stayin' for a while, then. You got family here?" Why was he so curious about Natalie's life? Sure, she seemed nice and was, genuinely, the most beautiful girl Calum had seen, but all these grilling questions had him wondering if they sounded as creepy to her as they did to him. He usually had no problem keeping his mouth shut—why couldn't he do it now?

"My dad lives up in Bakersfield but I mainly came to visit Cami," Natalie explained, and Calum nodded before letting out another cloud of smoke. "I kinda needed to get away for a little bit and L.A. seemed like the place to do it."

To get away. From what? Calum made a mental note to bring that up later, if he'd be fortunate enough to get to know her better.

Apparently Calum had taken too long to answer, as the raven haired girl reached over and plucked the cigarette from between his lips. Locking eyes with him, Natalie brought it to her own mouth, sucking in as a smirk formed on her lips. Calum clicked his tongue, giving a sly smile of his own while he shook his head.

"Didn't your mama ever tell you to wait your turn?" he mused, watching as Natalie let the smoke linger gently from her full, cherry red painted lips. The girl only rolled her enticing brown eyes before taking another drag, smirking.

Natalie tapped some of the ash onto the ground, glancing up at him. Even sitting down, Calum still had a couple inches on the girl. But her confident attitude made up for it. "I'm a little impatient," Natalie stated, leaning over seductively and bringing her hand up to Calum’s face, her long nails brushing over the stubble on his jaw. She placed the cigarette back between his parted lips, smiling innocently when his gaze met her’s. "And just for the record,” Natalie mumbled, getting to her feet. She shrugged Calum’s jacket on fully, pulling her hair out from the collar. “I don't listen to my mama."

#calum hood #calum hood imagine #calum fic #5 seconds of summer #5sos #calum 5sos #5sos imagines #boxer au #calum hood boxer #calum hood au #writing #5sos writing #5sos blurb #5sos fic #calum hood fic #5 seconds of summer au #5sos au #spacecowboycal #relentless cth

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calpops · 3 years

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meadow | l.h.

The only things stopping Luke from running away with the princess are the armor on his back and the vow he made to the kingdom.

1.2k words

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Luke was mesmerized. Sunlight glistened against silk. The rose pink dress the princess wore shimmered with her every movement. He saw her everyday, under sunlight and moonbeams, in the grandest rooms of the castle and engulfed by the perfectly tended flowers in the royal garden. But the sight of her trailing aimlessly through their secret meadow never failed to instill awe in him. She was one with the world when they made their getaway. Lost to the wildflowers and overgrowth of grass. Ease always captured her in the meadow; fully able to let worries of kingdoms and wars slip away. She felt safe there. She felt protected by Luke’s presence.

His cape flew in the wind as he followed her, the sign of his knighthood a sharp reminder against his skin. He was sworn to protect the crown. Vowed to his sword and the castle and nothing more. But secrets lived on his lips and in his heart. They were born of tilted crowns and shy smiles, flowers in hair and running through shadows and from responsibilities.

“We could keep going,” she said as she spun to face Luke. Her eyes sparkled under the light, were relentless as they peered at him and waited for his response. Perfectly stained lips pursed as Luke sighed. “We don’t have to go back.”

He reached for her hand, her skin was soft under his gentle touch.

“Where would we go?” Luke asked, only to amuse her and her wanderlust.

“Anywhere,” she answered softly and swept her gaze around their meadow. “Or we could stay here. Make a cabin in the woods.”

“Princess,” Luke whispered, words that ached sitting heavily on his heart in the momentary silence they lapsed into. Her eyes were filled with hope. “You know we can’t. We have to go back.”

The reasons for their return danced in the air between them, swayed with the wild lilies in the breeze and wilted their dreams. The reasons were sharp, broken vows meeting blades. A life of sworn commitment coming to an end. The princess nodded but turned away from Luke, hands gently gliding over petals as she kept walking.

“Then I will run away. As my sworn sword you will have to follow, to protect me,” she said as she looked back, lip quivering at the thought. Lies sounded sweet from her sugary lips. “You’ll follow me. Won’t you?”

Luke nodded, knowing there was no other way he could answer. He would follow her to the ends of the earth. Until death.

She sighed once more. This time the sound was resigned. Defeat captured her, slumped her shoulders and slowed her walk. Luke yearned to reach out for her again but the contact was forbidden. He knew he could. The meadow was theirs and no watching eyes would see. He could take her in his arms and whisper sweet nothings like many times before. Instead, he merely followed as his fingers curled into his palm. He was adamant to keep his promise to the princess his sword and heart were sworn to.

“Your father will be waiting,” Luke reminded. He hated the words, regret filling him as soon as they rolled off his tongue. Any mention of the king brought her down from the clouds, away from the privacy of the meadow and into a shadowed world of hallowed halls and sharp orders.

“Let him wait,” she insisted as she turned back to him and came to a full stop. “His throne is comfortable enough. The arrangement will be made whether I’m present or not.”

Luke swallowed down a lump in his throat. Once stained glass worries became transparent. He could see the refusal in her eyes. The indignant set of her jaw. She would not be swayed to leave. Luke worried, she would also not be swayed to stop. Even more so he worried that she would. That all of her talk and her late night dreams would be all for naught. So many nights they snuck out to the gardens, the meadow out of reach but the privacy of the night and the familiarity of flowers offering them comfort. She’d whisper words of longing to Luke, make plans he had to convince himself not to act on in those very moments. Each night it got harder and harder to resist.

“I don’t want you to go,” Luke finally said, the words scorching him from the inside out as the sun began to dip below the tree line. Too much time had been spent hidden away from the rest of the world. “But you must.”

The princess faltered, her knight in dented armor doing little to save her from her fate. She frowned and shook her head, perfectly done hair falling in her face with the motion. Luke kept his hands to himself though he wished to push soft tendrils behind her ear, maybe even let his fingertips linger on her jaw for a just a moment longer than necessary.

“They’re going to send me away,” she responded and furrowed her eyebrows. Suddenly, glimmering eyes turned dark, shimmers turned to tears and palid expressions became her. “They’re arranging a marriage to some lord of a holdfast. I might never see my home again. I might never see you again.”

Luke lost his breath at her admission. The details of royal arrangements always kept from him until the moment they were signed and sealed. He went where he was told. He protected when danger arose. He knew little of what the world was outside of the castle and the commands of a king. Outside of the forbidden love he bore for a princess he was not ready to lose.

“I’m your sworn sword. Where you go, I follow,” Luke reminded but the princess solemnly shook her head and Luke faltered.

“Not this time,” she answered and turned sharply, heading back to the entrance of the clearing and to a fate she did not want to be destined for.

Luke hurried after her, met her at the treeline where their lone horse waited. His hands found hers again and the realization it may be the last time he could feel the softness of her skin, smell the sweetness that lingered around her, he shattered. Pieces of himself falling to the dirt; ragged and sharp enough to sever ties and vows.

“It’s five miles back to the castle,” Luke said flippiantly, eyes searching anywhere but the trail they must take to bring her home. He helped her into the saddle and joined, her arms wound around him in a way that promised she did not want to let go. He let out a breath, ran his thumb over the back of her hand and took a chance. “It’s ten to the docks. Fifty leagues to the next kingdom.”

A demure smile curved her lips as she took in Luke’s words. She peered out to the other side of the meadow, tilted her head to the side and gazed up at Luke.

“Wherever I go…” she said and trailed off.

“I’ll follow,” Luke promised.

***

Part 2??

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mamaspresley · 4 years

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relentless | boxer!ch (1)

A/N: my first time publishing my writing on tumblr... im nervous ee. enjoy!! if u’d like to be added to my tag list, send a message to my ask and make sure it’s not anon! also, see who i envision as natalie here and camille here :)

Chapter 1

"I told you, Cami. You pick the bar, you pay."

Camille wasn't too happy by that remark, as she let out an exasperated groan before digging around in her purse, while her best friend pushed out a playful laugh. She grabbed her wallet, slipping out a twenty and handing it to the dark haired girl, who gave a smug smile before turning back to the bartender to order a round of drinks. Natalie ordered a tequila on the rocks for herself and a Bellini for her best friend before taking the time to glance around the venue. It was a little underwhelming, if she was being honest. When she agreed to drinks on a Saturday night with her childhood best friend in her home of downtown Los Angeles, Natalie expected something a little more exciting. Craved something a little more exciting. She had flown in from Michigan and cancelled her plans with her father tonight for the very excuse to get plastered at some nightclub in L.A.—Natalie had a reason to be less than happy when the night she was looking forward to wasn't as she expected. Aside from her disappointment, Natalie couldn't say she was surprised—Camille wasn't one for loud music and mass hoards of drunk people. She was definitely the more sensible one of the pair, only being a few months older but all the more wiser. It'd been that way since grade school, so Natalie didn't expect her best friend to change too much over the past year they'd gone without seeing each other.

"So how's L.A.? Living up to your expectations yet?" Natalie asked as they waited for their drinks. That was the one thing that surprised her about Camille—after graduating university with a degree in law, she made the impulsive decision to pack her bags and move to California. All of their friends had collectively agreed that was more of a Natalie thing to do, and Natalie herself had only furthered that statement. It was out of character, seeing Camille navigate her way through the streets of Los Angeles, but Natalie would be lying if she didn't say it was refreshing to see her best friend stepping out of her comfort zone. It was like all that Natalie had done for Camille during their high school years—dragging her to parties, smuggling in alcohol to their junior prom, getting drunk for the first time together—hadn't just gone to waste, because now Camille was really living. And Natalie liked to think to herself that she was a part of that journey.

"I actually really love it here," Camille answered, flashing her friend a smile as she tucked a stray piece of her dirty blonde hair behind her ear. Natalie didn't miss the way the girl’s blue eyes lit up with excitement, her pink lips twitching into a grin. "Every day I wake up and I still have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that I live here. Like, this is my life now. It's crazy."

Natalie offered a smile, and thankfully Camille missed how it didn't quite meet her eyes. Truthfully, Natalie had always been jealous of the girl. At first, it rooted from her straight A's in school or when she'd been asked to the school dance before Natalie had. Although those stereotypical high school issues still played a big part in Natalie's bottled-up insecurities, the past year had really opened her eyes at how envious she had been of Camille Johnson throughout their entire friendship. It had hit Natalie like a ton of bricks when the older of the two announced her moving to California. Natalie realized how put-together her best friend was, unlike herself. Natalie, crashing on her brother’s couch in a run-down apartment located in the middle of Dearborn, Michigan, was nowhere near put-together. All the while, Camille had moved across the country, found herself a well-paying, long-term job, and resided in a spacious apartment just off the downtown stretch of one of the biggest and most successful cities in the world. Camille worked full-time as a case handler at a law firm in L.A. and was exactly where she wanted to be—Natalie had a mixed degree in business and fashion and was working full-time at Urban Outfitters just to afford being able to sleep on her brother’s couch. It wasn’t her definition of ideal.

"One Bellini and tequila." Natalie was pulled from her thoughts as their drinks were passed across the counter top, and the raven haired girl had to hold herself back from downing the thing in one take.

"You know—" Natalie glanced around, bringing her glass to her lips. She took a sip of her drink, grimacing before tapping her neon orange acrylic nails to the cup. "—This place sucks. I mean, there's like ten people here. And the music isn't even good. And how do you manage to fuck up tequila on the rocks so badly? It's tequila and ice, not rocket science." Natalie didn't bother to lower her voice, which probably wasn't the best move as she could feel the bartender shooting daggers at her from behind the bar.

"Quit being such a buzzkill," Camille said, eyeing the girl who set her drink down with a scoff. She gave the bartender an apologetic smile before turning back to her friend, who was adjusting the straps on her bra. Camille checked her phone. "It's barely eight. I'm sure the place will liven up once the night starts."

"Well, my night started an hour ago," Natalie defended, taking her purse from the back of her chair and hitching it up her shoulder. The girl stepped down from the bar stool she sat at, her black stilettos coming in contact with the hardwood flooring before she looked at the girl over her shoulder. "I'm dipping. You coming or staying, Johnson?"

Rolling her eyes, Camille hopped down too and followed her stubborn best friend out of the bar, leaving their drinks on the counter. Natalie couldn't help but revel in the feeling of pride, the familiar feeling of control that she gained when they stepped outside and she realized the night was back in her hands. Natalie loved Camille, but God, did it ever feel right when she took the reins.

Natalie took a whiff of fresh air and smiled before turning to her friend, swinging an arm around the shorter girl's shoulders. "Me 'n you, CJ. No bar will ever be good enough for the two of us."

"Actually, I was pretty content in there—"

A blast of sirens cut her off, making both of the girls glance down the street out of sheer curiosity. An ambulance whizzed past and turned left onto the road perpendicular to them, and Natalie could feel a smirk crawling across her lips as the sirens dimmed. Camille looked back up at her friend, locking eyes with the dark haired girl before letting out a sort of annoyed-but-knowing sigh. Camille knew that look. It was the look that always got the pair into trouble as teenagers, and would most likely be getting them into trouble as young adults now, too.

"Natalie, no." Camille shook her head, unwrapping herself from the brunette's hold. She lifted a pointed finger, her expression stern. "You and I both agreed on bar hopping tonight. I want to have a good time. That doesn’t include getting into shit with the cops. I don’t need a repeat of senior year," Camille said, recalling the events of a party Natalie had dragged her to during their last year of high school, when the cops showed up and took everyone they could find on the premise into the station. It was Camille’s first—and hopefully last—encounter with the police. She didn’t want another one—one that would be on her permanent record.

"Oh, come on. You want to have a good time? That sounds like a good time," Natalie exclaimed, taking Camille's smaller hand in her's. The reluctant girl groaned as she felt herself being pulled across the street to where a taxi was sitting, and she knew there was no use in arguing with her. Natalie had always been the reckless, don't-think-before-you-do type, and no matter how hard she tried to, Camille could never change her. They'd known each other since third grade and Camille had tried everything in her power to knock some sense into her, but failed miserably. There was no going back when Natalie was set on something, and unfortunately, most times it involved some stupid and dangerous adventure that Camille didn't necessarily feel comfortable with.

"We're not sixteen anymore, Natalie. We can't just go on meaningless adventures and not think about the consequences," Camille whined as the younger girl opened the door to the yellow cab, slipping inside. Camille followed her in nonetheless, her sense of loyalty overpowering her gut instincts. No matter what crazy shit Natalie was getting herself into, Camille was her best friend. She couldn’t let her do so alone.

"Follow those sirens," Natalie told the driver as she flipped her hair over her shoulder before looking over at Camille. The brunette smiled a wicked, mischievous smile, one that Camille knew all too well. "I came to L.A. to have fun, Cami. So let's have fun." They were pulling off the street before Camille even had time to close the car door.

***

The taxi pulled up to a large venue, one that was made of stone and looked older than the Colosseum. The parking lot was packed, and there were a few people lingering outside. It looked to be an arena of some sorts—for what activity, Natalie had no idea. But she did have some intention of finding out.

"This should cover it," the raven haired girl said confidently, leaning forward to hand the taxi driver a twenty dollar bill. The two girls shuffled out of the car, and Camille glanced at her friend with wide, hesitant eyes. Once Natalie had shut the car door, she turned back to Camille and noticed her expression, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We're having fun, Camille. Loosen up. Where there's sirens, there's fun."

"I'm pretty sure that contradicts, like, every law ever."

Ignoring the worried look on the blonde's face, Natalie took Camille's hand in her's and pulled her toward the set of double doors leading into the arena. Loud music blared from inside, the bass heavy and Natalie could feel it in her heart when they entered the building. As soon as they stepped inside, Camille and Natalie were pushed to the side as two paramedics rushed out with a man laying on a gurney, his face bloody and groans spurring out of his lips. He had a splint holding his leg straight, his mouth parted as a stained-red cloth was somewhat stuffed between his lips. Natalie raised her eyes at the sight before looking at Camille excitedly.

"What is this place?" Camille murmured, glancing around. Her hand was still entangled with Natalie's out of fear, and the younger girl dragged them farther inside the venue, towards a plaque that had the word SUNNY'S engraved in silver, bold letters.

"Some sort of recreational center I think," Natalie voiced, retracting her hand as she folded her arms over her exposed chest. The air-conditioning was seemingly turned to high in the building, and Natalie was not dressed for the occasion, sporting a black bodysuit with spaghetti straps, the cleavage cut low to showcase the boob job that she’d invested in last summer, with white skinny jeans and the same coloured heels. She expected California to be warm in the July evening, hence her lack of jacket. Natalie pursed her lips, tilting her head as her eyes scanned down the plaque, reading some of the sponsors underneath.

"What, like a gym?"

Suddenly, a loud roar of cheers erupted from behind a second set of double doors, dragging the girls' attentions over. With a raise of her eyebrows and a quick smirk pulling at her lips, Natalie followed the sound, and Camille was right on her heels.

In the middle of the arena sat a large octagon, guarded with wires and strong pillars at every vertex. Chairs and bleachers rounded the cage, most of which were filled with people invested in the two men fighting in the octagon. The event seemed to be just starting back up again as tensions were high, and Natalie assumed they'd just taken a quick break after the accident that had led her and Camille there.

A man had just come out of a door diagonal to the girls, spiking both of their attentions, and Natalie abandoned Camille to walk over to him. He had dirty blond hair that was slicked back, a statue of around 6'0" and he was looking down at his phone, not paying attention to the girl approaching him before she rested a hand on his leather jacket clad bicep. He looked up.

"Hi, I'm Natalie." The girl flashed him a smile and he raised his eyebrows, sliding his phone in the back pocket of his black skinny jeans.

"I'm Ashton," the boy said politely, giving her a small, confused smile. Natalie used his hesitance to her advantage, cocking her head to the side like a lost puppy. She twirled her long brown hair around her tan finger, batting her false lashes up at the boy.

"Nice to meet you, Ashton. Quick question," Natalie quipped her head to the side, a grin toying on her lips while Ashton's eyes trailed down to her chest that wasn't exactly modestly covered. "What is this place? Some sort of boxing gym or something?"

"Mm, yeah. You could say that." Ashton's eyes lifted back up, meeting Natalie's. "I own the place." He was cute, she thought. Not really her type, but still undeniably attractive. The leather jacket he wore gave off a cool vibe, along with the red tee he sported underneath. His hazel eyes blended nicely with his skin, and dimples pierced his cheeks without him even having to smile. He couldn't be much older than Natalie, but definitely not younger. Ashton seemed to notice her obviously checking him out, as he quipped, "You seem a little lost, love. Did you come here alone?"

A light laugh fell from her red matte lips as Natalie shook her head. She nodded to Camille, who leaned against the wall, consumed by her phone. "My friend and I just came to check the place out." A spark lit up in Natalie's eyes as her lips curled into a smirk. "We just came from her boyfriend's house. Found him with another girl. It's sad, really. Camille always falls for the guys who turn out to be dicks."

She watched as Ashton glanced over, and she didn’t miss the spark in his eyes when he laid them on Camille.

"Sorry. . . You say, her boyfriend cheated on her?" he clarified, lifting his eyes back up to Natalie's brown ones. She nodded, a pout significant on her lips. A look of pity flashed over his face as Ashton mumbled, "That's no good. How's she holding up?"

"Not good," Natalie drawled. "She could definitely use some cheering up. I'm totally helpless here, though. I don't know what to do." Ashton's hazel eyes flickered over with concern, and Natalie would almost feel bad if she knew better—she'd played this game many times before and practically became immune to the feeling of guilt.

"Listen, my friends and I were gonna head out for drinks after the match—I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you guys came along."

A smirk played on Natalie's lips as she internally gave herself a pat on the back. God, a year out of the game and she was still scoring. "I don't know," Natalie pushed, masking her satisfaction with a frown as she crossed her arms, looking back over at an oblivious Camille. "I'm not too sure Cami will be in the mood. I mean, can you blame her? I'd be heartbroken if I found my boyfriend of two years in bed with my sister, too."

Ashton's eyebrows shot up at this, his light brown eyes wide and full of concern. "You sure I can't buy you two a drink later?" Home run.

"I'll see what I can do to convince her," Natalie mused, placing her hand on his bicep gently. Her lips curled up in a not-so-genuine smile and she blinked up at him innocently. "You're sure we aren't imposing, though?"

"Of course not. I'll go check with my friends now," he said with a small smile hinting at his lips. Ashton glanced into the filled arena before looking back at Natalie. "Stay here, I'll be back in a moment."

Ashton was disappearing around the corner a moment later and Natalie let out an excited squeal as she approached Camille. The girl looked up, rolling her eyes at the excitement her best friend was practically radiating. “What did you do now?”

"We're having fun tonight!" Natalie sang out, earning a quip of the eyebrow from Camille. Natalie grabbed one of her hands, smiling wickedly. "I got us invited to drinks with a hot guy and his friends. And he's, like, totally into you, so you're welcome." Impressed, Camille raised her eyebrows at her friend and let a sort of smile creep across her lips, only for it to be replaced with a scowl after hearing the next bit. "I may or may not have made up a sob story on your behalf about your boyfriend of two years cheating on you with your sister, but it's okay because you're gonna get laid tonight!"

"You—what?"

"It's fine, Cami!" said a reassuring Natalie, who wasn't doing much to keep to her name. "His name is Ashton and he's tall and handsome and totally wants to fuck you. Not to mention, he owns this place so he must be rolling in money."

"Natalie," the blonde girl grumbled, dropping her hand to instead bring it up to rub her forehead in distress. Camille couldn't believe that she'd fallen for another one of Natalie's childish games—she should've known better. "You can't just do this shit anymore. Setting me up with someone is one thing, but lying to do so is another. I have a reputation to uphold here, and a good job doing what I love that I can't risk for another one of your stupid games!"

Natalie would be lying if she said that Camille's sudden outburst didn't hurt her feelings. But they'd been friends for years, and had fought countless times. Natalie was used to Camille getting upset with her, and she knew that the girl would always come around to forgive her.

That's why, after Camille had stormed off, muttering something about getting some fresh air, and Ashton had approached her again, Natalie flashed him a sweet smile before exclaiming, "She's all in."

The sandy haired boy smiled. "Great. One of the guys fighting in the ring today is with us—name’s Calum. Great dude. You’d hit it off with him, I’m sure.”

“One of the guys fighting?” she repeated before glancing over to the octagon in the middle of the open space. There was two guys in the ring, one of which was sitting on a bench in the corner as another was knelt in front of him. The man kneeling had a black baseball cap on with blond hair sticking out messily, and his whole attire was dark. The man sitting wore only a pair of shorts, shirtless and skin gleaming against the bright lights of the facility. He had tan skin that was littered with tattoos, dark curls on his head that seemed to be damp with sweat as some stuck to his forehead, despite his conscious efforts of running his hand through it. The guy kneeling was talking as the other guy listened, giving a few nods every now and then. Natalie peeled her eyes away, looking back at Ashton. “Which one?”

“The one sitting.”

Natalie used this as an excuse to look back to the ring, admiring the darker skinned boy that Ashton seemingly knew. He was undeniably attractive, and his choice of career—or hobby, whichever it may be— seemed to only further the fact. He was a boxer. The thin layer of sweat building on his skin glistened under the bright lights of the complex, and Natalie noticed the muscles under his bicep—which looked bigger than Natalie’s head—bulging as his grip on the white towel he held tightened. His jaw was clenched, eyebrows lowered while he listened to what the other boy had to say. Natalie was too engaged in the beautiful boy that she hadn’t even realized the additional body present behind her, and only peeled her eyes away from the fighter when she heard her best friend’s familiar voice.

“. . . I’m Camille. It’s nice to meet you.”

Turning her head back to look over her shoulder, Natalie saw a smiling Camille, her cheeks flush with a light pink colour while her blue eyes gazed up at Ashton adorably. Natalie held back a smile; she knew Camille wouldn’t appreciate the I told you so look in front of the boy, so she’d hold it off until later.

“I was just telling Natalie about how I’m friends with one of the guys in the ring,” Ashton explained, never failing to draw Camille’s attention away from him. He didn’t seem to notice her infatuation, though, as he gestured to the octagon. “I own the facility, manage all the guys here. I’ve known Calum for years. The other guy is his trainer, Michael.”

Natalie glanced back over and saw the boy stretched his arms behind his head, continuing to listen to his trainer as he nodded. He began wrapping his fist in white sport tape, shaking his head before saying something to Michael. Natalie wished she could hear their discussion.

“So you manage, like, fights and stuff?” Camille asked. The two engaged in a conversation about Ashton’s job, all the while Natalie’s attention was on the beautiful tattooed boy, not at all aware of another pair of eyes on her.

Part two here!

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mamaspresley · 4 years

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relentless | boxer!ch (3)

Part two here

Chapter 3

Natalie and Camille were on their fourth night in a row of bar hopping. Natalie knew that going to L.A. would be fun and, no doubt, a trip to remember, even if she wasn’t doing much remembering. That morning, Natalie had woken up next to some guy—he was actually fairly attractive, so she was a bit disappointed when making her walk of shame back to Camille’s apartment without the boy’s name or phone number—and was nursing an awful headache. A couple aspirins and one shower later, Natalie was good for the rest of the day. And thank God for that, because Camille wasn’t done showing her the city. She dragged her along to another night filled with drinking and partying in some club on the main stretch, and Natalie couldn’t lie—she was having the time of her life.

Now the two sat at a round table in the middle of a busy pub, both sporting drinks and light buzzes. Camille claimed she wouldn’t drink much tonight, and Natalie only furthered that statement. She didn’t feel like waking up with a jackhammer to her skull, so she stuck to one drink.

It was strange—even though Natalie was sticking to one drink, she suddenly felt a rush of intoxication flood over her when her eyes locked with a pair of blue ones over by the bar. He was cute, undeniably good-looking with long blond curls and a bone structure that had Natalie growing jealous. But when Camille noticed her friend’s gaze across the room and followed it with her own, the lighter haired girl quickly came to her senses and shook Natalie from her trance.

“No. No way are you about to make crazy eyes with that blond haired asshole over by the bar,” Camille said. Her tone was firm, and not at all playful like it had been before. A frown replaced the previous smirk on Natalie’s lips as her eyes lifted to meet Camille’s.

“What?”

Knowing that he was off limits was probably what made him even more attractive. Whichever one of Camille’s friends—Natalie had forgotten her name already—was clearly insane if she had let this man go. It was unbearable how hot he was. His blond hair was long and curly, framing his face, and he had a leather jacket on his shoulders. He wore simple black jeans that hugged his legs tight and gold boots that had just a bit of a heel. He was extremely good looking, and Natalie recognized the feeling that overwhelmed her body when she laid eyes on him for the first time. She needed to go home with him.

Fuck girl code. She didn't even know the bitch who this man supposedly fucked over anyway, so what did it matter? If she stuck by girl code now then that was basically saying every guy ever was off limits. Whatever-her-name was a friend of Camille's, but Natalie hadn't even heard of her before tonight, so she could really care less. This girl's ex boyfriend was hot as hell and Natalie was already set on getting in his bed tonight, whether Camille—or the other chick—liked it.

"Did you not just hear what I said? He's Haley’s ex, Nat. That means you can't sleep with him." Camille was repeating the words over and over, like that would somehow make him uglier and make Natalie want to sleep with him less. It didn't. It just made Natalie more annoyed at the tone of her best friend's voice.

The raven haired girl took another sip of her margarita before lifting her eyes to the lighter haired girl she sat next to at the small table. "I don't even know Haley. It doesn't count," Natalie said, her eyes lingering back at the man who stood at the bar, holding a beer in his ring clad hands as he laughed at something the bartender said. His laugh was cute, his eyes squinted and his nose scrunched up when his lips curled. Natalie swore she could see the twinkle in his bright blue eyes from a few feet away, reflecting off the bright disco lights of the pub. She turned back to Camille, her mind set. "Tell your friend I'm sorry for her loss."

The brunette grabbed her clutch, flipping her hair over her shoulders and sending Camille a wink before she made her way across the dance floor to the bar. There, Natalie slid into the empty seat on the man's left, tucking some hair behind her ear. She could feel the man's gaze resting on her immediately, and Natalie glanced over her shoulder. God, his eyes were even bluer up close. Natalie, a little caught off guard at how intense his stare was, smiled and batted her eyelashes up at him.

"Hi, I'm Natalie," she introduced, reaching her left arm across her body to hold her hand out to him. The man's eyes never strayed from her as he chuckled amusingly before shaking her hand. His grip was firm but gentle enough to inform Natalie he wasn't an intimidating man, and she mentally thanked God for not letting him be one of those weirdly arrogant men that thought scaring a girl was a way to get her in bed.

"I’m Luke. Nice to meet you, Natalie," he said with a smile. He sounded Australian, a bit Americanized but she could hear the tilt in his voice due to his accent. She was pulled out of her thoughts by the feeling of both of Luke's hands clasping her's as he smiled down at her sweetly. "Can I buy you a drink?"

It started with one drink, and then Luke bought her another and they danced with each other before he asked if she wanted to go back with him to his apartment. Natalie, of course, complied and followed Luke outside, where they took an Uber back to his. She texted Camille in the car, informing her that she was indeed living up to her promise of going home with Luke that night, and Camille only texted back two eye-rolling emojis.

They got back to Luke’s place, a nice penthouse on the top floor of a large building downtown with windows lining the foyer and living room, bottom of the wall to the top covered in glass that looked out over the city. Natalie didn’t have much time to admire his choice of residence before Luke offered to pour her a glass of wine, and Natalie being Natalie did not hesitate to say yes. The buzz of the Merlot in her system added onto the pleasure she felt when Luke had kissed her. It’s not that she didn’t expect it, but he was obviously experienced. So was she, but in a different way. Luke kissed her well, like he knew exactly what she wanted. At that, he’d given Natalie two of her best orgasms within ten minutes of each other. Everything had happened so quickly—at first they were laughing about something he said while pouring her a glass of expensive wine—one that Natalie wouldn’t even bat her eye in the direction of at a store—and then they were sitting on the couch in his living room, he was leaning closer and ghosting his lips over hers and calling her beautiful, and then his lips weren’t on hers but instead working her towards her first orgasm of the night, her fingers tugging at his curls as she leaned back against the sofa, Luke’s head between her thighs. Somehow they ended up in his bedroom only moments later, Natalie on her knees in only her lace underwear while Luke sat on the edge of the bed, holding her hair at the back of her head while her lips worked him over for a change.

"Holy—holy shit."

He was close, Natalie could tell by the harsh grip on her hair and the recurrence of his moans. Just as he was about to release into her mouth, Luke pulled out hastily and tilted Natalie’s head up, locking their eyes as he shook his head. “I wanna cum in you.” Seconds later, Natalie was on her knees on his bed, Luke’s cock throbbing inside of her as one hand gripped her hair and the other rested on the wall in front of them. Her cheek pressed into the mattress, eyes rolled back as Luke pushed her further and further to the edge. Natalie was sure the bed frame was about to break, telling by the way it slammed against the wall with each thrust Luke took, but she found herself focusing more on the pleasure of Luke’s cock as he took her from behind than the bed frame that he could easily replace.

When they finished, Luke escaping to the bathroom to clean up, Natalie took it upon herself to find her clothes and pull her panties over her thighs, which were still shaking after the amazing fuck she’d just had. As Natalie slipped her bra back on, Luke came back into the room in a pair of grey sweatpants, his curls thrown back into a bun. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head when Natalie grabbed her dress off the floor.

“Wear something of mine. Don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” The sweet words made Natalie’s heart race in her chest as Luke dug around in his closet before throwing her a tee that would inevitably hang down to her knees. She thanked him, slipping it over her head. It smelled like him, a warm scent of vanilla and some cologne she didn’t really recognize but loved nonetheless. Luke was pulling back the sheets on his bed when Natalie lifted her hair up into a bun identical to his, and he nodded over. “Lay down with me.”

Natalie smiled as she climbed into the bed, slipping her bare legs under the silk sheets that felt like heaven against her skin. The boy pulled her closer, his muscular arm wrapping around her waist as he made her face him, their noses gently brushing against each other. Then they were kissing, but this time it was different. It felt nice, not like it was leading to anything, but more like he was kissing her just to kiss her. His lips were soft and plump, sucking sweetly at her bottom one before pulling away, blue eyes staring into her brown ones.

"So beautiful," he mumbled, making Natalie smile small. He dropped his gaze to her lips, where he brought his hand up and ran his thumb across her lower lip. Then his eyes lifted again, meeting hers.

His arm came to wrap around her waist again, pulling her close and Natalie let her head fall to his chest, his chin atop her head. She could feel his heartbeat, calming her and prompting her to close his eyes. This was strange for Natalie. The last time she cuddled with someone, that wasn't her brother's all-too-loving French bulldog she shared a couch with back home, was in high school, with her boyfriend that Natalie was convinced she was in love with. Now that she thought back to it, he was probably the reason Natalie slept around so often. He was an absolute ass. Sure, he had his moments, but Natalie was blindsided by teenage obsession and immature infatuation that she didn't realize he was really just using her for sex. They got together freshman year and broke up the summer before junior. She was young, only 14, when she let him take her virginity, and looking back on it Natalie couldn't believe how naive she was. He had made her believe that sex was the only thing she was good for—she carried that all the way into her twenties, and now, because of that, she was in bed with a random guy she saw at a bar. Sometimes Natalie hated herself so much that she had no choice but to let men use her so she'd feel wanted. God, she was pathetic.

Luke's lips pressing a soft kiss to Natalie's forehead was what pulled her from her deprecating thoughts and brought her back to reality. He squeezed her into his chest, sighing in content as the girl felt a smile creep across her lips. She hadn't felt wanted like this—without the sex or lust—in so long. It was refreshing, and it felt like a dream. One that Natalie never wanted to wake up from.

“Stay the night,” Luke said, his voice nearly lost in the quiet of the bedroom. Natalie tilted her head up, moving her eyes to meet his. There was no hesitation in them, only reassurance as he spoke again. “I’ll make you breakfast in the morning. And I can drive you home on my way to work.”

The butterflies in Natalie’s stomach did not go unnoticed as her eyes darted between Luke’s. He was being serious—he wanted her to sleep over, to stay with him and cuddle through the night before they woke up the next morning and had breakfast together. She’d never done this before. With all the guys Natalie had slept with, none of them offered her breakfast. None of them had been this kind, and had such a genuine look in their eyes after they had hooked up. She expected him to be like the rest, to brush her off and roll onto his side and fall asleep like that. The daring look in his blue irises told Natalie tonight was different. This boy was different. So she complied, tilting her chin and brushing her lips over Luke’s.

“Is that a yes?” he asked when Natalie pulled away, her lips kissed and cheeks flushed as she nodded. “Good, because I have some pancake mix in the cupboard that expires next month and is waiting to be used.”

“Is that the only reason you asked?” Natalie teased, and Luke rolled his kind eyes before pulling her on top of him, earning a squeal from the girl.

***

"What part of don't sleep with him did you not understand?" Camille exclaimed, tilting her head to meet her best friend's eyes. Camille and Natalie were currently at some consignment store, just down the street from Camille's apartment, and the girl was giving Natalie a piece of her mind, careful to keep her voice low in fear of causing a disturbance. Natalie only rolled her eyes, leafing through the low-priced designer blouses. "Do you know how hurt Haley is going to be when she finds out I let my best friend sleep with her ex? They only broke up two days ago, Nat!"

"Well he was obviously over her," the dark haired girl said simply, shrugging before pulling out a white button up, raising her eyebrows. Natalie held it up to her chest, turning to Camille. "This is cute, right? Crop it, maybe. It’d be cute with a pair of jeans, tuck in the front—"

"God, you're not even listening to me!" cried Camille, throwing her hands in the air while Natalie put the shirt back on the clothing rack.

Natalie shifted her weight to look over at Camille, folding her arms over her red cropped tank. She rolled her lower lip into her mouth, wetting it before raising an eyebrow at her friend. "Haley needs to let him move on. She can't expect him to cry over her for as long as she is him. And I didn't directly cross any lines because I'm not friends with her. It’d be different if it was you or something. Besides, you know how I feel about all that stupid girl code shit. It's Luke's decision how he copes with the breakup. Maybe sleeping around is his way of grieving—and I am of honour that he chose to do his service with me.”

Camille looked taken aback at what Natalie had said. The words processed in her mind before she reluctantly nodded, furrowing her eyebrows. "I hate it when you're right," the girl mumbled, and Natalie let out a loud, nearly obnoxious laugh—one that earned her a nasty glare from the lady a few feet away, and the cocky brunette only shot one back—before turning back to the clothing rack. Camille let out a sigh, picking through the shirts next to Natalie absentmindedly. "I'm not gonna say anything to Haley because that would just be awful. But can you promise not to sleep with him again? I know it was, like, a one time thing, but just to make me feel better. You know how I am, it’ll be on my conscience forever.”

Natalie froze. Shit. Camille was asking her not to sleep with Luke again—she was practically giving her a get out of jail free card. She couldn't tell Camille that she was actually talking to him because, one, she had just asked her to stay away from him, and two, Natalie didn't talk to guys. This was an exception—one that Natalie had stayed up all night debating whether or not it was good for her. She never dated, so it was weird for Natalie knowing that there was a real life guy somewhere out there, waiting for her to text him, probably at work or with his friends or something. Natalie actually really liked Luke, which is why she gave him her number before climbing out of his red Lamborghini that morning. Seriously—a fucking Lamborghini. Now Camille was asking her to not sleep with him again. This was just ironic, really. A game that God was playing on Natalie. She didn’t do boyfriends, didn’t do relationships, so this only made sense that she couldn’t actually be with Luke now that she wanted to. But Camille didn't know any of this—she didn’t know that Natalie had developed legitimate feelings for him overnight, and she didn't need to know, not until Natalie was serious that this wasn't just her subconscious playing tricks on her.

"I will not sleep with Luke again." God. Even coming from Natalie, a girl who spent her whole life pulling tricks on people and playing cruel mind games, a lie like that didn't sound good. And it didn't feel very good, either. Maybe. . . she wouldn’t sleep with him. Who knows? To be fair, Camille only advised her not to have sex with Luke. That didn’t mean she had to stop seeing him altogether.

"Good," Camille hummed, a small, triumphant smile playing on her lips as she turned back to the discounted clothes. Natalie nearly missed the words that fell from Camille's lips in a murmur, "because you have a date tonight anyway."

Frowning, Natalie raised her eyebrows. Had she heard her right? "Did you say a date?"

A playful grin crept across Camille's thin lips as she nodded. "Mhm. Ashton got us into a really nice club that’s, like, super hard to get into. His friend is coming. Ugh, what’s his name? Caleb? Calvin? I don’t know, it starts with a C.”

The brown haired girl let out a surprised scoff, watching her friend incredulously. Natalie opened her mouth to say something before she became acutely aware of the buzzing in her purse. The vibration that she'd set specifically for Luke, she could feel against her hip but she pushed it out of her mind, reaching into her Kate Spade bag to silence the call. "I'm sorry, am I hearing you right? You set me up on a double date with you and your boy toy?"

Camille rolled her eyes, though Natalie didn't miss the happy smile playing obviously on the girl's lips. "I actually really like Ashton, for your information. But yes. Tonight at 7. Ashton said his friend would DD so they’ll pick us up.”

Holding back an aggravated sigh, Natalie agreed reluctantly. If she was being honest, tonight was the first time that Natalie didn't want to go out. She wanted to stay home and maybe watch a movie and eat some popcorn, all the while texting the boy that she really liked. God, she felt like she was in high school again.

"Do you wanna get food beforehand? I was thinking Panda Express." As Camille rambled on about the rest of their day, Natalie reached into her purse, nodding as if she was listening to the girl, and checked her phone. Luke had called her and then left a text, one that had Natalie’s heart racing rapidly. 'Wanna grab dinner tonight? My treat :-)'

Natalie felt the corners of her mouth curling upwards in a smile so big it ached. Camille didn't even notice, too busy talking about Ashton, as Natalie texted away on her phone, her acrylics tapping against the glass screen. She had typed, 'Yeah sure!' before remembering what Camille had told her only moments before. Of course. Luke had asked her on a date tonight, one that Natalie was actually looking forward to, that probably wasn't just leading to sex. But of course she had to decline, so Natalie deleted her text before writing a completely new one. 'I can't tonight :/ Tmrw?'

Sighing, Natalie turned her phone over in her hand after sending the text, tapping her acrylic nails against the clear case. This felt. . . strange. Awaiting a text from the guy she liked, butterflies erupting in her stomach as she clicked her nails nervously, and when she felt the buzzes of his texts, she felt her heart beat faster and her throat dry. Natalie flipped her phone over, reading the notifications.

'Sure, love :-)’

‘Miss you’

Natalie thought she was gonna throw up—in a good way, of course. Love. Miss you. Texts like that used to sicken her. Now she felt sick, but with love. What had happened to her? This wasn't the Natalie she was used to. What happened to the Natalie who slept around and was a bitch just for the fun of it? Now she was all giddy about a boy she’d met once.

But boy, did she like it.

***

Seven pm rolled around and Natalie wasn’t even close to ready. She was just fresh out of the shower, her hair up in a towel as she had a pair of black latex pants on with a white button up, her black bra showing purposefully through the thin material. She was done her foundation and bronzer, setting it with translucent powder when there was a knock on the apartment. Natalie groaned, glancing around the corner from the bathroom while dabbing at her face with her beauty blender.

“Cami, can you get it? I’m still doing my makeup!”

The light haired girl got up to answer the door while Natalie finished up her base makeup. She could hear a few greetings and polite welcomes from the foyer, and, taking her time, Natalie filled in her brows and blended out her eyeshadow. They could wait.

“Nat’s still doing her makeup,” she heard Camille explain, mumbling an apology before recognizing Ashton’s laugh as he assured her they weren’t in a rush. Camille welcomed them inside, offering something to eat or drink while Natalie expertly swiped on her winged eyeliner, working as carefully and efficiently as she could.

“Where’s your bathroom?” she heard a man speak. His voice was one of rasp and fluidity, similar to Luke’s as she recognized an Australian accent. Natalie had heard that voice—it was familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on where she’d heard it before there was a man standing in the doorway of the bathroom, where Natalie was applying her fake eyelashes. Her eyes flickered up, meeting a familiar pair of brown irises. Natalie’s eyebrows raised in surprise as she recognized the boy’s face—it was the same boy she met the first night she got to L.A., when Camille and her went to some sort of boxing match and out for drinks after. It was the fighter. Fuck, what was his name?

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were in here,” the boy said, awkwardly lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck as Natalie stared at him incredulously. She couldn’t remember his name for the life of her, but she knew it’d be rude to ask since they already met. Natalie blinked a few times, holding her tweezers in one hand as the other gripped the edge of the sink counter. His sheepish smile pulled her from her thoughts and Natalie cleared her throat.

“Shit, sorry.” She laughed nervously, the sound coming out more as forced while she rushed to pack up her things. “I can finish this somewhere else—”

“No, no, it’s fine—”

While awkwardly side stepping him to get out of the bathroom, Natalie twisted her body in a way that caused the boy’s hand to brush across her chest, and he cursed as he retracted his hand, muttering a million apologies as they both tried to fit past the small doorway. Finally, both of them had switched spots, Natalie standing in the hallway holding her makeup bag while Calum stood in front of the sink, his cheeks red as were Natalie’s, though hers were expertly hidden by blush.

“Sorry,” he spoke, darting his gaze around the bathroom in an attempt to avoid Natalie’s eyes, while she did the same. They both stammered like idiots, Natalie’s heart hammering before they both came to the conclusion to go their separate ways. He closed the bathroom door while Natalie made her way into Camille’s bedroom, heart in her throat. Only a few minutes later Natalie finished her makeup and her hair, and she walked out to the main part of the apartment. Ashton and Camille were in the kitchen, Camille’s arms wrapped around his torso and hands linked behind his back as she looked up at him while Ashton was telling some sort of story and playing with a few loose strands of Camille’s hair absentmindedly. The other boy was leaning against the island counter, scrolling through his phone. Natalie bit her lip as she moved around the boy to get to the closet, mumbling a quick sorry before bending down to grab her black stilettos.

“Okay, everyone ready?” Camille asked while Natalie put on her heels, leaning against the wall. She nodded, grabbing her black purse off the dining table and following everyone out. As they stepped out into the hallway, lingering for a moment while Camille locked up the apartment, Calum caught Natalie’s hand and pulled her towards him, away from the other two.

“I don’t want to be a dick,” Calum said, his voice low. Natalie blinked up at him expectantly. “But I completely forget your name.”

The corners of her lips curled up in a smile as Natalie let out a light, relieved laugh. She shook her head, placing a hand on his bicep as she smiled up at him. “I forgot your’s too, I just didn’t want to be rude—I’m Natalie.”

“Fuck, right.” He nodded, running a hand through his curls before bringing it down and offering it to Natalie. She shook it politely as he said, “I’m Calum. Promise I won’t forget your name this time.”

She grinned, not acknowledging the fact that Calum’s hand was still holding her’s, their fingers intertwined at their sides at this point. Natalie lifted her eyes to meet Calum’s, brown meeting brown, as she smiled and said, “I would promise you the same, but I haven’t decided how much I want to drink tonight.”

Calum grinned.

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