Out of My Control [bxb]

Chapter 1

ALL RIGHTS TO THIS BOOK ARE RESERVED TO ME. MEANING YOU CAN NOT COPY IT AND TAKE CREDIT. YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO POST MY STORY ANYWHERE AND CLAIM IT AS YOURS. ALL CREDIT GOES TO ME. Thank you.

Hello!! Thank you for picking this book to read! I really hope you enjoy it!
⚠️Warning: This book contains detailed sexual content, strong language, sexual coercion, a series of panic attacks, homophobic comments/insults, and some violence. But also a lot of cute gay shit! Proceed with caution!

I didn't think I'd have to add this, but I guess some people might not know; the name Reid is pronounced REED or READ. Like "I'm reading a book." Reid.

To my rereaders, welcome back :) but PLEASE NOT SPOILERS thank you <3

- Xoxo bert
**

"Hey, who's that guy?" I nudge my best friend with my elbow then nod towards the boy leaning against the wall across the crowded room from me. I've caught him looking at me twice already.

For someone who has had at least four different girls come up and try flirting with him, he sure doesn't seem interested. In fact, he seems almost disgusted by their desperate attempts to catch his attention.

Preston acknowledges who I'm talking about, drawing his eyebrows together and pursing his lips like he's trying to think of who the mystery boy might be. My best friend shrugs then takes a sip from his red solo cup. "Never seen him before. He probably goes to Westwood. Everyone from Westwood tries to get into an Austberg party." Preston tells me matter-of-factly. "Though I'm not complaining. For some reason, the girls from Westwood High School are way hotter than girls from our school."

"Yeah," I agree though I'm not really paying much attention. Why can't I stop watching this guy?

"Speaking of Westwood girls..." Preston smirks then follows a tall blonde, with a perfect hourglass body, into the kitchen.

I wouldn't say I'm popular. Preston Anders is popular. Preston's basically the only reason we win most of our football games. That, his outgoing demeanor, and his model good looks are why he's popular. Me being his best friend is the only reason a lot of people know me. In all realness, I probably wouldn't be friends with Preston had I met him freshman year of high school. But ever since he moved in right next door to me, second grade, we've been best friends.

I honestly think I'd be lost without him.

I sigh, breaking away from my previous thoughts as I examine the room. Sweaty, horny teenagers grinding on each other and getting shit-faced. I hate high school parties. The only reason I go is for my best friend. He practically begged me to come with him.

And yet Preston leaves me for some drunk bimbo.

I study the guy from before who, for some reason, has hooked my attention once again. The guy is wearing a short-sleeved, button-up shirt that is tugged loosely into his tight black skinny jeans. The skinny jeans have ripped holes at the knees and are cropped at the ankles. All held together with a black belt. The shirt was stripped which I would normally barf at, but with the three top buttons undone, exposing his chest and the silver chains around his neck, one would say he looks extremely attractive in that striped shirt.

Not me, I wouldn't say that, but someone.

I can see why the girls are throwing themselves at him. He's tall with a body that shouts: I WORK OUT! He's not majorly buff by any means, but his arms have the perfect amount of muscle to them. He has a sharp jawline and a flawless, tan face that accommodates the rest of his body. His hair is brown and slightly curly. It's pretty hot actually. His hair is styled with the right amount of messiness to it that gives off an I don't care attitude but also an I wanna look good attitude.