Novels by Jewella

Alex~I get to the arena too early.The building looks smaller from the outside than it does on TV, a squat concrete thing with banners taped crooked along the entrance and students milling around in clusters.I walk in with my hands in my jacket pockets and my shoulders loose.Inside, it smells like popcorn and rubber soles and there is a faint electric buzz that never quite goes away in places meant for crowds. I find my seat halfway up the bleachers, close enough to see faces but far enough back that I can take the whole court in at once.The floor gleams. The lights are aggressive. Music pulses through the speakers in short bursts, hype stitched together from bass and shouting.I text Seth even though I know he won’t see it yet.I’m here.Three dots appear almost immediately, then disappear, then come back.Good. Don’t leave.I smile to myself and tuck my phone away.People trickle in around me. A couple holding hands, a group of freshmen wearing matching hoodies, someone settles

Alex~I clock in at twelve forty-eight, two minutes early, because I like the feeling of being ahead of something even when nothing else in my life feels like it’s waiting for me.Jamie is already there, perched sideways on the edge of the big table like the room belongs to them, laptop open, coffee sweating through the paper cup and leaving rings on the wood. The space smells like dust and citrus cleaner, the kind they use when they want a place to feel productive instead of loved. The windows are cracked open just enough to let the afternoon in, that half-warm, half-bored light that makes everything look unfinished.Maya swivels in her chair when she sees me. “You’re early,” she says.“I woke up early,” I tell her, which isn’t a lie, just not the reason.She hums, already turning back to her screen. Maya always does acknowledging you without making it a thing and I swear it’s a talent. Jamie, on the other hand, looks up like they’re about to read me aloud.“How is the paid laborer l

Seth~ I wake up already late for something. Alex is still in bed beside me, the sheets kicked halfway down, his shirt twisted around his ribs. He’s on his side, facing me, eyes closed but not deeply asleep. I can tell by the way his fingers keep flexing against the pillow, like he’s counting breaths. I don’t move right away. There’s a version of my life now where mornings feel borrowed, like I’m always leaving something behind even when I’m still in the room. I don’t want to rush this one. Not when he’s here. Not when the day hasn’t asked anything of us yet. The light is different this late. Sharper. It cuts across his face instead of spilling gently over it, catching on his lashes, the line of his mouth. He looks older like this. More settled. Not softer—Alex has never been soft—but anchored in himself in a way I don’t remember from earlier in the year. I wonder when that happened. Maybe I was too busy looking outward to notice. I reach out, brush my thumb

Alex~ The sheets are still warm when we crawl back into them. The curtains are half drawn. Afternoon light spills in sideways, catching dust in the air, striping Seth’s bare shoulder, my arm, the wall. By this time the campus is fairly active that we can hear activities going on. A skateboard cracking against concrete, a car door slamming somewhere too far to matter, voices of people. Seth lies on his stomach, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other stretched toward me. His hair is still damp from the shower he took after breakfast, darker at the ends. I watch the slow rise of his back, the way his breathing evens out only when he’s really relaxed, when he’s not thinking about drills or meetings or the shape of the next week. I slide closer, my knee fitting into the space behind his thigh like it belongs there. My hand finds the line of his spine, traces down, stops at the waistband of his shorts. He hums, low and content, without opening his eyes. “You’re heavy,” he

Alex~ I wake up first, which is rare, because Seth usually sleeps like he’s guarding something. Light and easily ready to throw his arm across whatever’s closest like it might disappear if he lets go. Today it’s me. His forearm is warm against my stomach, skin-to-skin, the weight of it anchoring me there. The room is so quiet in a way that only exists early in the morning. Pale light sneaks through the blinds, striping his shoulder, his jaw, the corner of his mouth that’s always slightly turned down even when he’s relaxed. I don’t move right away. I just lie there and breathe him in. His hair is a mess, curls flattened on one side, sticking up on the other. His lashes look unfairly long like this, resting against his cheeks, and for a second I feel that familiar tug this soft, ridiculous fondness that feels like it could ruin me if I stare too long. So I don’t stare, I catalog. The steady rise and fall of his chest. The way his fingers twitch occasionally, like he’s dr

Alex~ The dorm feels quiet in that late afternoon way, the kind where sunlight spills in through half-open blinds and the world outside seems almost irrelevant. Jordan is perched on the edge of my bed, knees bent, backpack at his feet, and he’s talking fast, half to himself and half to me about the final edits on his project. He gestures, letting the air take the shape of his words, and I watch him, listening more than responding. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him like this, casual and relaxed. He is a little distracted but it’s good. “I think I finally settled on the last color grade,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s subtle, barely there, but it keeps the mood from going too… theatrical, I guess. Too polished. You know what I mean?” I nod, though I’m not sure I do. “Yeah. Polished most times can kill authenticity. Sometimes too much clarity makes people miss what’s underneath.” He grins. “Exactly. That’s what I was going for. Lived-in, but intentional.

Devon~I tell her I’ll be downstairs because it sounds like the right thing to say. Meanwhile list is still buzzing and blaring in my veins.Giving us both a moment to breathe sounds reasonable. It sounds like a man who knows when to stop and step back.The truth is, if I stay in that room any more second, I will do something that I cannot pretend is accidental.I close the door behind me softly, and stand there for a moment with my forehead against the wood. I clench my hands at my sides and force by body to calm down and my brain to think, but it is almost impossible because I can smell her everywhere. On my skin, on my hands, in my head. Fuck, I can still feel the way she tightened around me and moaned my name before she could stop herself in the heat of it all. That is the part that keeps replaying. If I thoughts the first time we fucked was spectacular? I’m way out of my depth here now.Pulling away from the door, i unclench my hands and turn to go downstairs. I get there and

Harriet~I wake up warm.Not warm from the sunlight slipping through the curtain but the type from body heat that is unfamiliar and intimate enough that my first instinct is to stiffen.Then I open my eyes to see the situation.Devon’s arm is wrapped around my waist and his palm is resting flat against my stomach like it knows exactly where it belongs and it is there. His chest rises against my back with each breath.I try to think back for a bit.He wasn’t in bed when I fell asleep last night, I remember that clearly. I remember falling asleep to thoughts of both him and Sam waring in my mind. The bed was definitely empty and now here he is.I lie still, pretending I’m still asleep, trying to piece together what kind of game this is. Did I roll toward him in my sleep. Did he come in later and decide to climb into bed anyway. Did he mean to wake me like this.His grip tightens slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to let me know that he’s aware of me now.So much for pret

Harriet~I take a little too long getting ready. Partly because I stood for minutes staring at my clothes wondering if this truly was a step in the right direction or the wrong one.Where would this move things with Dev? Forward or backwards?While I prep, I notice that the house is quiet downstairs, minus the fact that the construction workers are done for the day, it feels like Devon has deliberately gone silent and is waiting for my next move.I hate that it bothers me so much that even as u am choosing a dress, I am secretly considering what he’d think if he sees it.I settle on a soft green dress that hits just above my knees, it’s the kind that moves when I walk and makes me feel like myself and not like I’m trying too hard or even apologetic either. I pull my hair back into a low ponytail and leave a few curls loose around my face. I swipe on lip gloss that smells faintly of vanilla and check my reflection once more in the mirror before I force myself to stop.Sam pulls up rig

Harriet~I close my eyes unable to believe he is about to fuck me again.He kneels on the bed, settling between my legs, and I can feel the hard, heavy length of him against my thigh. He’s still wearing his control like a second skin, but I can see the strain in the set of his jaw. He positions himself at my entrance, the head of his cock nudges against my slick, swollen folds be he doesn’t push inside yet and just waits, letting me feel the weight of his intention, the sheer, undeniable presence of him."Look at me," he commands, his voice a low growl.I force my eyes open, meeting his gaze. The raw, possessive hunger I see there steals my breath. "This is what you were going to look for," he says, and then he pushes inside.The stretch is an exquisite slow, burning sensation that has me arching my back. He sinks into me inch by inch, his eyes never leaving mine, until he’s buried to the hilt. He stills, letting me adjust, letting me feel the fullness of him and the rightness of it.

Harriet~Devon doesn’t follow me upstairs right away and that should have been my first clue.I’m in the room, half undressed and pulling on a sweater I don’t need because the house is warm and I am already too aware of my own skin, when I hear his footsteps in the hallway. They stop outside the door briefly, start and then stop again before the door swings open.Devon stands are the door with his jaw tight and his eyes dark.Sometime between when we came back and now, he has rolled up his sleeves and the bulk of his muscular arm is showing… I swallow.“Have you given Sam a response yet?” He asks and I shake my head.“Not yet, but u definitely will.”I have no idea who I’m trying to convince, myself or him.“Well Harriet, since you’ve been waiting for a good reaction from me, here’s one… I don’t think you should.”I see his response for what it is, the careful phrasing of a man who thinks restraint makes him innocent.“I’ll ask again for the… I don’t know how many tone. Why?”he si

Harriet~Devon just grabs his car keys and walks towards the door. He doesn't say ‘let’s go’, he just jingles the keys like I am meant to be summoned by the sound of it.I follow anyway, because apparently I enjoy emotional whiplash before noon.Outside, the air is warm in that almost-Christmas way that makes no sense but still feels right, the sun is actually doing too much for December. Devon walks ahead of me, with his shoulders set and his jaw tight.He is the picture of a man who has already lost an argument he refuses to admit he’s having.He unlocks the car and doesn’t open my door this time like usual. I open it myself and slide in, watching his reflection in the window as he circles to the driver’s side. He gets in, starts the engine, adjusts the mirrors. All business-like.“So,” I say, buckling up. “What store are we going to first?”“Hardware,” he replies. “Then lumber.”“Exciting.”He shoots me a look. “Well you don’t have to come along anymore.”I smile sweetly just to

Marcus MatthewsThe pen swirls between my fingers coming to rest between my index and thumb in rapid succession, One might say I was bored, but in reality, it was all I could do to still myself as the thoughts ran their wild course through my mind. My fingers jerk each time I think of Orion and the gun.“Take care of him” My brother Dane had requested simply.Giving him a 44 magnum pistol had not been part of what he requested and I’m pretty sure he’d have my balls on a stick flying high over his pool-house if he found out, but then again the crazed look in his eyes had been something I’d recongized. It was the same fire that had been in Dane’s eyes for Miranda all those years ago before he became a money conscious prick.The door bursts open as I oblige myself to a taste of scotch, and a burly looking guard I frankly don’t remember hiring walks in.“Sir,” he says simply waiting for my signal before he continues, I raise my glass to him and he steps back “The quarry has arrived and he

Paloma“You sure you don’t want to stay?” Casey asks for the billionth time that morning “I could as well just tell my parents to come at a later date or we could-"“It’s fine Casey” I reassure her again. “Besides you haven’t seen them in God knows how long, it would be selfish of me to let you pass up the opportunity.”“But-” she opens her mouth to raise another argument.My hands are faster and I raise it to silence her.“Enough Casey” I say, blowing my sweaty hair out of my face as I haul my suitcase from my room “I swear if you ask me one more time I’ll shove this suitcase so far up your arse you’ll sneeze bra, if you really want to help, then help me bring the luggage to the door.”She smiles and obliges me and I heave a breath as she takes the box off my hands.“It’s a two week stay,” she says huffing “Why do you need so much and how do you even have so much stuff, are you moving?”“Its stuff I need” I tell her “Just help me get it to the door would you.” Certain strings of exp

OrionIt had been a week since she was discharged and still my fingers has not learnt to uncoil the gun, I wonder how she will react if she found that I had been sleeping right outside her apartment with a revolver in my hands like some crazed paw patrol squad. I counted down the time until Casey’s parents would arrive, then she would have to stay with me for awhile and then maybe I’d finally get some shut-eye.It has been quite unmemorable this past week with some days leaving a bitter taste trailing down my throat like when I had to grovel back to join the team, the all too enthusiastic glint in the coach’s eyes made me want to vomit. I hated that he got to win like that but in the end I’d grovel before a thousand worlds if it will keep her safe.The night was awfully quiet save for the occasional hooting of the owl and the constant ticking of my watch, I should sleep even if it’s a little but I cannot bring myself to do so, even if she has begun to notice it, there’s too much on my

PalomaA string of expletives escapes from my lips and he winced, with a strength I did not know I possess I leap from the confines of my bed and rushed headfirst towards him, my fists raised high up in the air, he did not stop me but he sure did not expect as my arms wraps around him, crushing myself into his chest.“Thought you weren’t coming back.” I whisper into him, “why the fuck didn’t you come back, you had left, I could not-”In that moment he lifts my face up placing a deep kiss on my lips and silencing me, it was right, something I was hoping for, like an addictive drug that I had gone too fucking long without, it was relief, we finally break away from our kiss, his hands still cupping my face as we stare into the endlessness of each other, he opens his mouth to say something but a deep clearing of someone’s throat kills off whatever words were to come out.“Orion in love.” A deep voice says from behind him. “Never thought I’d see it come, your father must be absolutely livi

PalomaWe have lived almost everywhere before, from shanty houses to trailer parks, things kind of got awry when dad left and having little next to nothing.Didn't seem to help matters. I vaguely remember her now but for all the mystical things in the world, things didn’t come close to Mama Lupé.It was a dark time for me with dad gone, I was nine and Mom’s habit of drugs and drinking had begun to become less of a hobby and more of a daily routine, it was expected that without a job that we would be kicked out and the landlord had been lenient enough, mom was not picking up her act and soon the need for money had us out on our backs and into the streets.This was perfect scene for Mom anyway and I only remember him as Luca but he was one of the worst moments of my life but still I had nowhere to go, stuck in a trailer park with Mom’s dealer and new love interest, it was in the next trailer I met one of the most interesting women.Her skin was what drew me to her in the first place, I’

Chapter Twenty SevenOrionFocus on her smile.Focus on her smile.Focus on her smile.My eyes betray me once again and my gaze drifts over her, I wince annoyance and a gain the cloud of annoyance falls so much so that her voice seems far off, drifting off with the cold air that blew from the air conditioning."Orion,” she calls to me. “You seem off, I'm fine you know, you really don't have to-"She stops when she catches my gaze and for a moment our eyes linger telling the truths that our lips were afraid to say, I knew her enough to know when she put up the fake facade, that show of strength when when really it was all jelly underneath the iron facade, it didn't make feel better, it made me feel worse and I feel her cold hands against mine, she notices my looks and squeezes my hand, looking up to the ceiling, she blows a breath."Fine, it's stupid to say I'm fine," she says. “Any idiot can see I'm not fine, is it your fault? Could this have been avoided? Maybe.” I grunt interruptin