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Ruthless Knight
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Epilogue
Sneak Peek
Royal Hearts Academy
Resources
About the Author
Ruthless Knight
ROYAL HEARTS ACADEMY - BOOK TWO
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or
transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be
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than that in which it is published without a similar condition including this condition, being imposed on
the subsequent purchaser.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the
products of the author's imagination or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons,
living or deceased, or events is purely coincidence.
Ruthless Knight
Photographer: @rafagcatala_photographer on Instagram
Cover Design: Lori Jackson at Lori Jackson Design
Editor: Ellie McLove
Kristy Stalter
Rosa Sharon
Brandi Zelenka
Prologue
COLE
SAWYER
I never should have come here tonight.
For some reason, I honestly believed Oakley when he said he wanted to
hash out his tutoring schedule over a beer during the party at Christian’s.
He didn’t graduate with his class last year and since his cousin Dylan is
my bestie, I agreed to do him a solid and make it my mission to make sure he
graduates this year.
However, for the last hour, all he’s done is smoke blunts, drink copious
amounts of whiskey, and stick his tongue down some cheerleader’s throat.
Well, not just any cheerleader. Morgan, who happens to be Casey’s—the
cheer captain and queen bitch of RHA—best friend.
I’m so annoyed with him for dragging me here for nothing, I snatch the
red Solo cup from his hand and take a few sips.
“Oakley,” I gripe for the hundredth time tonight. “Can you please try and
focus?”
Finally, he pries his lips from Morgan’s. “Shit. My bad, boo.” Leaning his
head back against the couch, he lights a blunt. “Where were we?”
I muster up the tiny kernel of patience I have left, no doubt thanks to the
whiskey in my system. “I work Mondays, Thursdays, Fridays, and Sunday
evenings. I also have youth group at my church on Wednesdays after school,
but—”
“Jesus Christ,” he moans when Morgan starts nipping his earlobe.
Less than a second later she’s mauling him like a tiger again.
Good grief. I’m starting to miss his old girlfriend Hayley. At least she’d
let him finish a conversation.
I down whatever’s left in the cup and place it on the coffee table. “I give
up. Text me tomorrow if you’re serious about tutoring.”
I stalk off before he can stop me, not that he will. Hell, I highly doubt
he’ll even remember I was here tonight.
I’m fishing in my purse for my phone when a familiar voice drawls,
“That’s the ugliest sweater I’ve ever seen in my life. Do everyone a favor and
get stronger glasses.”
Bianca.
The newest member of the varsity cheerleading squad and the youngest
Covington spawn.
Squaring my shoulders, I utter, “Wow. Look at you. Your brothers finally
let you out of your cage.”
Unsupervised no less…which is awfully brave if you ask me. Not only is
the girl ridiculously gorgeous, she has a reputation for being a troublemaker.
On second thought, given the wide berth all the guys in the vicinity are
giving her…I can only assume word spread that she’s off limits.
Bianca doesn’t really seem to mind it, though. “Yup. Cole doesn’t give a
shit what I do tonight.”
Not surprising. RHA’s golden boy with the golden arm won the first
game of the season a few hours ago. Chances are he’s partying so hard he
doesn’t even know his name.
I’m about to ask who’s looking out for him, since I know his older
brother Jace isn’t here tonight, but then she says, “If you’re looking for the
quarterback who barely acknowledges your existence these days, I last saw
him making out with his girlfriend, Casey, in the hot tub.”
Her statement shouldn’t feel like she rammed an ice pick into my chest
and twisted it. Yet…
Twist, twist, twist.
The look on my face must give me away, because she tosses her head
back and laughs. “God, you make it too easy.” She brings her cup to her lips.
“Pro tip? Get some thicker skin, girl. The world is full of assholes.”
“I guess that would explain why so many attend RHA.”
“Damn straight. High school is where they’re bred.” She peers at me for a
moment too long. “Speaking of assholes, there’s something I’ve been
meaning to ask you for a while now.”
It’s safe to say I’m surprised. “What?”
Her expression turns thoughtful. “Why do you like my brother? And just
so we’re clear, I don’t mean that in a ‘you can do so much better than him’
type of way, because let’s be honest, you can’t. But I’m genuinely curious as
to why you’d knowingly waste your feelings on someone who will never
return them?”
Bianca’s a bitch with a capital B, but she also has a point…sort of.
“I don’t have feelings for him.”
Not exactly. It’s just…Cole Covington has always fascinated me. But not
in the same way he does every other girl at school.
I can’t explain it, but I feel like there’s more to him than what’s on the
surface.
Maybe it’s because he studies people the same way I do.
As if he’s on the outside looking in.
Which is crazy considering he’s the most good-looking, most popular,
and most talented quarterback on the planet…but still.
No matter how many times he proves me wrong, I can’t help but think his
true colors aren’t as one-dimensional or superficial as he wants everyone to
believe.
He’s not an empty black hole on the inside.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “Sometimes you’re just—”
“Drawn to someone who’s all wrong for you?” she interjects, and I can’t
help but notice her stare is pinned to something across the room.
I follow her gaze to where Oakley and Morgan are still making out on the
couch.
Oh, boy. I really hope it’s Morgan she’s pining over, because her brothers
would never allow her and Oakley to be a thing.
Not only is Bianca a sophomore…he’s Jace and Cole’s best friend.
Plus, he’s not exactly Mr. Stable.
He lives in the Covington guesthouse because he had an affair with his
stepmom—an affair his dad still doesn’t know about—and she’s knocked up.
Fortunately, it’s her husband’s and not Oak’s, but according to my best
friend, her aunt really did a number on Oakley and broke his heart.
Poor thing is just trying to put the pieces back together.
And by the looks of it, he’s enlisting Morgan’s help with that tonight…
which isn’t sitting well with baby Covington.
It’s awful seeing someone you feel this weird gravitational pull toward
making out with someone else.
“Boys suck,” I declare, offering her some support. “You’re beautiful and
—”
“What? Are you trying to get into my pants because my brother won’t let
you into his?” Eyes trained on me now, she snorts. “Trust me, there’s not
enough alcohol or desperation in the world to let you eat my pussy tonight.
Like my brother, I also have standards.” She smiles smugly. “Dime piece or
better, sweetie. Unfortunately for you, you’re about five cents too short.”
Wow…yeah. Fuck her.
Some people are just rotten to the core.
“It’s a real shame God wasted such beauty on a wicked witch like you.” I
brush past her, but pause when it occurs to me. “You said Cole doesn’t give a
shit about you being here.”
Her lips twist into a scowl. “Yeah, and?”
I hold up my cell. “I was just about to call Dylan—you know, Jace’s
girlfriend. I wasn’t going to mention you were here, but—”
“Fine, you win. Meet me in the bathroom in five.”
I blink. “Wait, what? Why?”
“Why do you think?”
My eyes widen in shock at her innuendo and she bites back a smirk.
“Jesus. You should see your face right now. No wonder Cole loves fucking
with you.” Pulling her compact out of her purse, she applies some lip gloss
and sighs. “Here’s tip number two of the night. If you’re going to go through
the trouble of threatening someone, make sure you at least get something
good out of it.” Appearing satisfied, she flutters her fingers in a dainty wave
and winks. “My cunt turns into a pumpkin at midnight, so I suggest you find
me before then if you change your mind.”
I can’t tell if she seriously propositioned me or if she’s screwing with me.
Not that it matters, it’s still a hard pass.
Even if I was into girls, she’d be so far down my list of acceptable
choices, I’d probably die of old age before I got to her.
My phone vibrates, and my grim mood dissipates when I see Dylan’s
name flash across the screen.
I answer on the first ring. “Great minds think alike. I was just about to
call you.”
Dylan says something, but the music is so loud I can’t hear her. “Wait,
hold on.”
Thinking quick, I hustle up the staircase. Evidently the bedrooms on the
second floor are used for couples who want to bang, but I manage to find an
empty one at the end of the hall.
“Sorry.” Not bothering to turn on the light, I plop down on the still made
bed. “I had to go upstairs so I could hear you. What were you saying?”
“I was going to ask if you decided to go to Christian’s to meet up with
Oakley, but the music and people in the background kind of answered my
question.”
“Oh, yeah.”
I’m debating how to break it to her that I couldn’t formulate her cousin’s
tutoring schedule because he’s shitfaced and hooking up with Morgan, but
then she says, “Uh-oh. What’s wrong? Are you okay? Do you need me—”
“No. I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
I hate how perceptive she is. Almost as much as I hate that she graduated
last year and I’m all alone in this hellhole again.
“Look, I tried, but I couldn’t nail down a schedule with Oakley. He was
too busy getting drunk and playing tonsil hockey with Morgan.”
“What?” She groans. “Crap. I’m sorry. We talked this morning and he
swore he was serious about getting his act together.”
Like me, Dylan gives most people the benefit of the doubt.
“It’s not your fault. I’m sure he’ll call me tomorrow and apologize.”
“He better. Or he’ll be dealing with me. I don’t want to see him screw up
his life. He has to graduate this year.”
Agreed. Oakley’s a great guy with tons of potential…he’s just caught up
in a bad spiral. But I know with enough persistence, Dylan and I can pull him
out of it and get him back on the right track.
“Don’t worry. The first week of school just ended today. Between the two
of us, I’m sure we’ll get through to him.”
Hopefully sooner rather than later.
She sighs. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for keeping an eye on him for me.
I know you have your own shit…wait…that reminds me. What are you doing
tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow is Saturday…so you know, the usual. Nothing.”
“Good. How about a sleepover at my place? I figure we can eat loads of
carbs, you can fill me in on the latest RHA gossip, and we can binge watch a
few eighties movies.”
Sounds like paradise, but I don’t want to intrude. Or worse…be the third
wheel.
I won’t ever tell her this, because I’m honestly thrilled she ended up with
her soulmate and all, but it really sucks that it happens to be Jace Covington.
Cole and Bianca’s older brother.
Although, as far as the devil’s triangle of siblings goes, he’s the best of
the trio.
Well…now. He wasn’t always so nice to Dylan due to a tragic
misunderstanding that ripped their former friendship apart.
Fortunately, he wised up, pulled his head out of his ass, and treats her like
gold now.
So much so, it’s equally nauseating and inspiring how in love they are.
Jace doesn’t leave a room without checking how Dylan is or seeing if she
needs anything...and they freaking live together.
The boy literally worships the ground she walks on.
And these days Dylan smiles so much that—according to my mother—
she’s going to have some serious laugh lines and crow’s feet by the time
she’s twenty-five.
I hope like hell she’s right. I want my friend to always be as happy as she
is now.
However, I don’t want to impose on the cheerful couple’s honeymoon
stage.
Especially since Dylan let it slip that Jace devotes just as much attention
to her in the bedroom as he does outside of it.
“Are you sure your boyfriend won’t mind me spending the night?”
“Are you kidding? Not only does Jace know to never intrude on my girl
time with you, he’s been working his ass off finishing Z.I. part two and I
know he’ll secretly be relieved I’m distracted.”
“As opposed to being dick-stracted?”
Her laughter fills my ears. “And that right there is just one reason you
have to come over. It’s been ten days since we’ve hung out and I’m going
through Sawyer withdrawals. I can’t wait until we go to the same school
again.”
My stomach knots. “That might not happen…it all depends on if Duke’s
grants me a scholarship or not.”
Duke’s Heart is extremely competitive. You either need to have the
money or the brains to get accepted…and they usually prefer both.
I only have one to offer them…and I’m afraid it won’t be enough.
Nothing I have to offer ever is.
“Hey,” Dylan snaps. “You are one of the smartest, greatest people I
know, Sawyer Church. Duke’s would be lucky to have someone like you and
they should be groveling at your feet for the chance. I know you’re going to
nail this application essay as well as your SATs. You, my friend, are going
places. Big places. Church is in session and the world better prepare itself.”
I’m the one who’s laughing now. “Wow, that was one hell of a
motivational speech. Did you think that up on the fly?”
“Yes, but I meant every word.” She exhales sharply. “I might also be
taking a class on marketing and how to pull in potential clients…or in my
case, alternative rock bands. Did it work?”
I tell her the truth. “Totally. Where do I sign?”
“Well, if you would finally agree to let the world hear your beautiful
voice—”
I stop her right there. “Sorry, I’m going through a tunnel, bad reception.
Love you, can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”
I hang up before she can protest. Ever since she caught me singing during
a car ride this summer, she’s been on my case about it.
But I only sing at church, along with a choir, because it’s where I’m most
comfortable.
I don’t have the confidence to sing for anyone else but God, because he’s
the only one who won’t criticize my appearance.
The world doesn’t take kindly to fat girls. The cold, hard truth is
something my mother drilled into my head the moment the scale deemed me
overweight back in sixth grade.
It would be a waste and I’d embarrass myself for even trying to put
myself out there. Unless I lost fifty pounds first.
Unfortunately for me, losing weight is easier said than done.
I might be good at some things…but dieting has never been one of them.
Adjusting myself on the bed, I close my eyes and sigh.
Sometimes I envision a world where I’m pretty and thin and have all the
opportunities attractive people do.
Then there are other times where my thoughts turn dark, and I secretly
wish I could make every cute boy and every mean girl who ever made fun of
me eat their words and choke on their insults.
But mostly? I just want to be able to look in the mirror and be happy with
what I see staring back at me.
I want to know what it’s like to feel like I’m enough.
Don’t get me wrong, my self-esteem isn’t so low that I hate myself. Quite
the contrary, I like who I am and know I’m a great person on the inside. I’m a
hard worker, I’d give anyone in need the shirt off my back—or the extra ones
I keep with me—and I have a sarcastic, stellar personality…but those
qualities aren’t enough for the world.
Spend five seconds on social media and you’ll quickly find out that the
worst thing you can be…is fat.
Spend ten seconds in a room with my mother or older sister and you’ll
realize how poorly you measure up to the perfect beauty queens.
I’m the proverbial round peg forever trying to fit inside a square hole…
desperately trying to make my outside match my inside.
It’s a silent battle and the screaming demon I stuff down and keep to
myself…because no one likes a Negative Nancy or a Debbie Downer.
No one likes when the fat girl talks about how miserable she is or how
upset it makes her to be made fun of.
How much she wishes she was thin.
Because deep down…the attractive, slim people are judging you for
putting yourself in the position you’re in.
Their mind is firing off thoughts like, ‘If she’s so unhappy, she should do
something about it.’ Or— ‘If she would stop being lazy and work out and eat
right, she’d lose the weight.’ And my new favorite, ‘She should try the new
keto diet or get that lap band surgery.’
Maybe fat people don’t want to go on a new fad diet or have surgery.
Maybe going to the gym gives fat people an anxiety attack and causes
them to give up before they even start…because half the people there are
looking at us like we’re a fish out of water. While the other half are
wondering how long we’ll last before we give up and head for the nearest
McDonald’s.
Maybe fat people just want to be accepted…flaws and all.
Just like the rest of society.
And maybe, just maybe—people should stop judging us.
Because every fat person will tell you…no one judges us harder than we
judge ourselves.
We know exactly what that mirror is reflecting.
Every extra pound we shouldn’t have.
Every tear we’ve secretly shed in frustration and sadness.
Every diet we’ve tried, but ultimately failed at.
Every fear and insecurity plaguing us.
Every expectation we’ll never measure up to.
And it sucks.
If I could wish for anything in the world…after world peace, curing
poverty, and getting rid of racist and homophobic assholes…
I’d wish to be thin and pretty.
No more stress. No more failed expectations. No more judgment.
For once, people would look at me because I was beautiful…instead of
looking at me and thinking, she’d be beautiful if she lost weight.
But desiring something like that is pointless…because those kinds of
wishes don’t come true for girls like me.
There are no knights in shining armor waiting to whisk us off into the
sunset so we can live happily ever after.
The knights in shining armor don’t want us.
They want the pretty, tiny cheerleaders like Casey, Morgan, and Bianca.
Girls like me have to dig deep and find a way to be content with whatever
box humanity decides to put us in and learn to accept far less than we
deserve.
Because that’s all we’re cut out for.
I’m so preoccupied with my own pity party, I don’t hear the door open
until it’s too late and a tall, muscular figure is staggering into the bedroom.
Alone.
Well, not really…given I’m still lying on the bed and all.
“Sorry…um. Occupied.”
Good job, Sawyer. You just told mystery dude you were having some
self-love time.
He mumbles something incoherent, but I’d know that voice anywhere.
Cole Covington.
Before the shock can set in, he plops down on the bed.
A few inches to the right and he would have landed on top of me, but it
doesn’t matter. What matters is why he’s here in the first place.
Lying on a bed…with me. In the middle of a party.
“Cole.”
“Hi.”
Really? “Hi.”
I tilt my face to look at him, but it’s a bad idea because even in the
shadows, he’s so gorgeous it should be a crime. “Are you okay?”
“No,” he slurs.
Well, shit. “Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
Okay then.
Neither of us says another word for what feels like forever as we stare up
at the ceiling.
I search my brain for a kernel of something that might help him, but it’s
near impossible, since I have no idea what’s wrong.
This too shall pass. It’s something my nanna used to say whenever I was
going through hard times.
However, I don’t get the chance to tell him that, because he grinds out,
“It’s my birthday…I think.” He draws in a shaky breath. “Is it the twenty-first
yet?”
I’m perplexed as to why he’d be so upset about turning eighteen—and the
fact his birthday is in August instead of November like I always thought—but
then I remember his twin brother died a few years ago.
I look at the clock on the nightstand. It’s twelve a.m. On the dot.
I’d wish him a happy birthday, but I’m not heartless.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper instead.
I honestly don’t know what else to say. I’m not sure there is anything else
to say considering the situation.
He snorts. “Guess that would make one of us. Huh?”
I have no idea what he means by that, but I don’t want to press, so I
clamp my mouth shut.
Cole and I have always had a strange…thing.
It’s no secret we’re not exactly friends, but he takes it one step further by
flirting and saying stuff he knows will push my buttons.
He was so convincing, it got to the point I thought he might actually be
interested in me last year…but then Casey happened.
Casey’s the cheer captain, and the new head bitch in charge at Royal
Hearts Academy.
She’s also the girl I beat up at a party last year for calling me fat.
Actually, fat would have been preferable. The girl said such vile, nasty
things, I’m not sure there’s enough praying me or anyone else can do to save
her disgusting soul.
Cole was there when it happened, and it was clear he didn’t approve of
what she said. In fact, he looked downright repulsed by her.
For the briefest of moments, I thought I saw something in him…
something noble and righteous.
But then he started ignoring me and dating her.
We haven’t spoken much since. Except tonight apparently.
“It’s bullshit,” he slurs into the darkness.
It’s not much, but I’ll take it. “What is?”
“Everything.”
There’s so much pain contained in that one word my heart drops.
I hate that I don’t know the right words to say to make it better.
Then again, maybe Cole doesn’t need someone to fix his problems.
Perhaps he just needs someone to listen to them.
Ignoring the tiny voice in my head screaming that what I’m about to do is
the equivalent of poking a tiger who very well might turn around and maul
me…I reach for his hand.
A sharp exhale escapes him the moment we make contact, but to my
surprise, he doesn’t pull away.
He squeezes my hand like he’s drowning…and I’m his lifeline.
“No one is who they pretend to be.”
Peeling my stare from the ceiling, I look at him. “How so?”
“Everyone is fake,” he clarifies. “No one is real. We’re all sheep…
following each other around in circles…going nowhere.”
As depressing as that thought is, he’s not exactly wrong. The world is full
of more phony people than genuine.
“Everyone is so fucking fake,” he repeats. “Including me.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him he’s being real right now, but his
next statement makes my breath catch.
“I’ve only met one person who doesn’t pretend to be someone they’re
not.”
“Who?”
Butterflies swarm in my belly when his lips twitch and those intense
green eyes zero in on me.
“My favorite Bible Thumper.”
I’m torn between wanting to smack him and wanting to smile because
I’m his favorite anything.
“Asshole.”
He grins and heaven help me, because I’m so screwed.
I used to roll my eyes at girls who claimed they couldn’t control
themselves in the presence of cute guys and therefore made dumb decisions.
Turns out karma isn’t always a bitch. Sometimes she’s a devastatingly
good-looking quarterback with cheekbones so sharp they’d cut glass, green
eyes so piercing you seriously wonder if he’s part wolf, and a lean, muscular
body that makes me…
Get a damn grip, Sawyer.
“I am an asshole.” Shifting, Cole turns his body toward mine. “And if
you’re half as smart as I think you are, you’d get off this bed and walk
away.”
My antagonist’s threats don’t scare me. “Why would I do that?”
His gaze darkens. “Because your precious God might end up revoking
your ticket to Heaven if you stay here any longer.”
Oh. Well, then.
My mouth goes dry and my palms begin to sweat…until I remember.
Cole might be drunk and having a rough night…but he also has a
girlfriend.
Someone has to put the brakes on whatever this is before he does
something he’ll regret.
“I don’t think Casey—you know, your girlfriend—would like that.”
He breaks eye contact. “I don’t think she’ll care.”
Yeah, he’s more intoxicated than I thought. “Of course, sh—”
“I’m pretty sure she’s cheating on me.”
Casey is the last person in the world I want to defend, but I pride myself
on giving good advice.
“Don’t you think you should talk to her about it and ask her, instead of
assum—”
“Nah.” His laughter is bitter. “I don’t give a shit who she spreads her legs
for on the down-low.”
“Oh.”
That’s a whole different issue entirely then.
“Everybody cheats.” I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs. “Everyone lies.”
Another bitter laugh breaks free. “Even my dad cheated on my mom, and he
used to look at her like she was his whole goddamn world.”
His jaw works. “He dragged her away from India—away from her career
and family—because he was selfish and couldn’t bear the thought of being
without her. Then the bastard cheated…and now she’s worm food while he’s
still living and breathing. Still fucking whores named Nadia who look like his
dead wife and still ignoring his children.” His nostrils flare on an indrawn
breath. “It’s not fair.”
Wow. “I—”
“Don’t. Don’t defend what he did or tell me everyone makes mistakes.
Let him wallow in his guilt. He deserves to.” Turmoil splashes across his
features and his voice drops to a whisper. “We both do.”
My heart folds in on itself. It’s not Cole’s fault his mom died.
It’s not his father’s either—even if he did betray his wife—but I’m not
touching that with a ten-foot pole.
“Hey.” Placing my palm against his cheek, I wait for him to look at me.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Casting his gaze down, he leans into my touch. “Say it again.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I repeat with even more conviction.
Breath frazzled, he searches my face. “Bible Thumper?”
Despite the nickname, I respond. “Yeah?”
The agony swirling in his eyes is unmistakable. “How come lies are so
beautiful and the truth is always so fucking ugly?”
Jesus. Before tonight, I’d never peg Cole as introspective. However, it
turns out that gnawing feeling I’ve always had about him being more than
surface level, was dead on.
Mulling over his question, I tell him the only thing that makes sense to
me. “Lies are easier to believe because they usually protect someone or
conceal something bad.” Chewing on my bottom lip, I add. “Or, maybe it’s
because there is no truth…definitively anyway. We all have our own truth…
and whatever version aligns best with that is what we gravitate toward and
believe…even if it’s a lie. I guess in the end it comes down to selfishness.”
I give my head a small shake when I realize how long winded and
confusing my response probably was. “Sorry, I didn’t really answer your
question.”
His expression is somber. “No, you did.” He runs his thumb over my
knuckle. “Tell me something about you I didn’t know before tonight.” His
chiseled face turns serious. “Something real…something that hurts.”
That’s…random and a bit fucked-up.
Then again, drunk people don’t tend to make a lot of sense.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure there’s any—”
“Yes, there is.”
He’s right, there are some private, hurtful things I keep to myself and
don’t share with others…but I suppose there’s no harm in telling him, given
he’s so drunk he’ll probably forget.
“My parents have slept in separate bedrooms for the last two years and
they barely even talk to each other anymore.” Unless I’m in the room, then
they go through me. “But they refuse to divorce.”
I wait for a twinge of something, but it doesn’t come. It’s been going on
so long I’ve pretty much become complacent about the whole thing.
Or maybe I’m just numb now?
“Why?”
Nope, that’s not something I’m willing to tell him. He already makes fun
of my faith every chance he gets. This will just give him more fodder.
“None of your business.”
It’s clear he doesn’t like that response, but he doesn’t push. “Cole isn’t
my real name.”
Yeah, I did not see that coming.
“It’s not?”
He shakes his head. “Not technically.”
The suspense is killing me. “What’s your real name?”
“Why won’t your parents get divorced?”
Even drunk, he’s a jerk. I’m pretty sure he can figure it out, he just wants
me to say it.
I’ve met atheists before, and most are respectful of those who believe…
but not Cole.
It’s like he’s holding a personal grudge against God and uses any excuse
to ridicule his existence.
“Your birthday isn’t in November,” I point out, changing the subject.
“Last year Christian threw a birthday party for you in November.”
He shrugs. “So?”
It’s August. “You lied.”
He smirks. “Like I said before…everyone lies.”
That doesn’t sit well with me…especially since he asked me to tell him
something real.
That said, it would make me a hypocrite to chastise him, when I’m
intentionally sidestepping his question. Here goes nothing.
“My uncle and grandfather are ministers. My mom is their secretary and
runs the books at their church. We grew up in a...” Closing my eyes, I cut
straight to the point. Me growing up in a small southern town isn’t relevant.
“Divorce is frowned upon.”
I suck in a breath as a flicker of hurt bubbles in my chest. There it is.
My parents aren’t in love anymore, but our faith has them convinced it’s
wrong to separate…even though I’m positive God wouldn’t want them to
stay miserable.
I hate the smug smile on Cole’s face. “Because the fictional man upstairs
will send them to Hell?”
I pull my hand back. “Why do you hate him so much?”
The glare he shoots me is cruel. “I can’t hate someone who doesn’t exist.”
He raises a shoulder in a shrug. “But for the record, if your imaginary little
man in the sky was real? It’s safe to say he’s the one who started the war
between us…not me.”
My chest grows heavy. There’s definitely something indignant and ugly
brewing inside him.
His thumb brushes the corner of my mouth, taking me by surprise. “It’s
crazy how the most genuine person I’ve ever met could believe in something
so fucking bogus.”
Sticks and stones, I remind myself, but my brain doesn’t get the message.
“It’s crazy how the most beautiful guy I’ve ever laid eyes on could be so
hideous inside.” I mutter a curse when I realize I said that aloud. “I’m sorry.
That was rude. I didn’t mean—”
“Yeah, you did.” He doesn’t look at all upset or offended. Quite the
contrary…he almost looks happy. Must be the alcohol.
“Colton.” His eyes narrow. “Tell anyone and I’ll make your life a living
hell…one that’s ten times worse than the one your little God threatens you
with.”
I slap his hand away. “You’re such an asshole.”
“You gonna keep stating the obvious?” His stare drifts to the door. “Or
are you gonna do the smart thing and leave?”
He’s testing me, I realize. If he really wanted me to leave, he wouldn’t
keep looking at me like he needs someone to save him.
Cole’s waiting for my reaction, but I refuse to give him one. “I’m
comfortable right here.”
“Suit yourself.” His gaze drops to my chest. “Wonder how comfortable
you’d be if I unbuttoned that sweater of yours and stuck my face between
your tits?”
I’m grateful the lights are off because my cheeks feel like they’re on fire.
“Colton—”
“Cole,” he corrects. “Relax, Bible Thumper. If I was interested in your
tits, they’d already be in my mouth. Same goes for your virgin cunt.”
Yeah, he’s definitely testing my patience right now—and plucking my
very last nerve like it’s his personal guitar.
He reaches for my hand again, and heaven help me, because I let him.
“I was born August twenty-first, but we don’t celebrate my birthday until
November.”
That’s…weird. “Why?”
His hand goes rigid. “My family didn’t feel up to celebrating the day
Liam was born after he offed himself, so Jace suggested I pick a new date.
One that didn’t remind them of Liam’s death.”
My chest coils. It’s all I can do not to wrap my arms around him, but
something tells me he would interpret that as pity and wouldn’t respond well
to it.
“Any reason you picked November?”
“November seventh.” His lips curve. “And yeah…it’s the best month in
football.”
I’m processing the irony when an image of Cole on the football field
races through my head. “Your jersey number. Everyone calls you lucky
seven.”
He waggles his eyebrows. “That’s because I am.”
For a moment I think he’s going to drone on about how impressive his
arm is, or rattle off his stats, but what he says next is much worse.
“Given I’m the twin who’s still alive and all.”
Whoa. Self-deprecating is one thing, but this…
It’s almost like his warped version of armor.
Kind of like how the fat girl jokes about being heavy before anyone else
can.
We do it to protect ourselves, but it only digs the knife that much
deeper…because we’re acknowledging we see ourselves the same way
everyone else does.
We’re admitting we’re just as worthless as they make us feel.
I can’t imagine what it must feel like to be in Cole’s position and lose my
twin brother, but I do know what it’s like to use parts of your personality as a
shield to try and protect what’s on the inside.
Because the truth is so ugly it hurts.
“Cole—”
“Don’t.” His voice is a razor’s edge from cracking. “Don’t waste your
time trying to fix me. You’ll only cut yourself on my fucked-up pieces.” The
look he gives me twists my insides. “And when that happens…I’ll watch you
bleed out with a smile on my face.”
I’ve never met someone who was beyond saving before, but I guess
there’s a first for everything.
I should walk away.
I should forget this random, bizarre conversation of ours…and leave him
here by himself.
I should keep pretending I’m not completely entranced by him.
There are so many things I should do…
Yet, I move closer.
“Threaten me all you want, but I’m not afraid of you, Cole Covingt—”
I don’t get to finish that sentence because his mouth crashes against mine.
Oh. My. God.
I swear my brain checks out and my heart skips several beats.
Cole tastes exactly like I always imagined he would. Beer, heaven…and
carnal sin.
The latter is a glaring reminder.
Breaking the kiss takes more willpower than turning down a decadent
chocolate cake when you haven’t eaten in twelve hours.
“We can’t. This is wrong.”
“Christ. Not only is your God judgmental, he’s one hell of a cockblocker
too.”
It’s hard not to laugh because…well, he’s not exactly wrong there.
However, Cole’s assumption about why I’m stopping this is.
“This has nothing to do with God. This has to do with you chea—”
“Casey isn’t here. She’s probably talking to the guy she’s been texting all
week.” Shifting, he grinds against me, making my senses rattle all over again.
“Even if she was here, I’d be wishing it was you.”
There’s not enough air in the room after that statement.
But as much as I wish it was true and he was being sincere, I know
better.
“You’re drunk.”
“And you’re beautiful.” My eyes flutter closed as he kisses a path down
my jaw. “And real.”
Cole’s cutting remark from before zips through my head. “Funny, I could
have sworn you said something about not being interested in me a few
minutes ago.”
He gives me a cocky smirk. “Told you, sweetness…I’m a liar.”
His lips close the distance between us before I can argue.
Good Lord. Trying to fight Cole’s kiss is like trying to fight quicksand
you’re already sinking in.
I tried to do the honorable thing. That has to count for something, right?
All my life, I’ve tried my hardest to take the moral high road. For once, I
want to indulge and see what it’s like to be the girl who gets the guy.
Even if it’s only because the guy is drunk and I’m…here.
Parting my lips, I let his tongue sweep inside.
Like the flip of a switch, his kiss goes from light and teasing to intense
and all-consuming.
It’s a struggle to breathe as he greedily explores every inch of my mouth,
like he’ll never get enough.
My heart pounds—with nerves and pleasure—as his hands start roaming.
His fingers toy with the first button of my sweater. “You okay?”
No. I’m petrified.
The furthest I’ve ever gone was whatever the base is before you hit a
home run, I think—and it was with Tommy DaSilva.
He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. An asshole hiding behind a contrived,
good boy exterior.
And the Covingtons’ biggest enemy.
But I didn’t know any of that when we met online…on a Christian dating
forum.
It wasn’t until we started talking privately in a chat that he disclosed he
was from Royal Manor too. However, he didn’t attend RHA like me. Up until
he graduated last year he went to the public school across town.
Tommy suggested we meet up…but I declined.
A month went by, and like clockwork, he kept asking to hang out.
Finally, I came clean and told him I didn’t want to because I was afraid
he wouldn’t like the way I looked. He didn’t strike me as vain, but I knew
from his picture he was good looking and was on the football team.
Tommy assured me all would be fine, and he didn’t judge people on their
appearance.
Eventually I caved, and we met up at some drive-in movie theater a few
towns over.
We clicked instantly, the conversation and laughter flowed…everything
was perfect.
Eventually, one thing led to another and we ended up going further than I
anticipated.
I didn’t regret giving him a hand job, though…not until he said it was
getting late and he had to head home.
I thought for sure he’d ignore me, based on how abruptly he left after he
got off, but to my surprise, he texted me that night and said a bunch of stuff
that made me blush and feel wanted.
We agreed to hang out again that weekend.
But he blew me off.
Well, until after he left the party he was at with his football buddies.
I should have known right then things weren’t serious between us, and he
was only looking for a booty call—but given I was young and inexperienced,
I gave him the benefit of the doubt.
And after some convincing on his part…another hand job.
Again, he left just as quickly as he came.
Only this time when he texted me later, he wasn’t full of compliments
and dirty talk.
He told me I was a sweet girl, but he didn’t see a future with me because
he wasn’t attracted to my body type. He tried to look past it, but he realized
after our second hookup we were better off as friends.
To his credit, we did talk for a few weeks after and he kept the
conversation respectful and friendly.
Even though I couldn’t fault him for not being attracted to me, and I gave
him credit for being honest about it, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bruise my
ego.
I might not be a ten, but I’m still a human with feelings.
Feelings that are currently going haywire thanks to Cole Covington
looking at me like I’m something he wants to eat while undoing the first few
buttons of my sweater.
I’m so scared he’s going to be disgusted with what he sees—he’ll make
up excuses and leave.
Placing my hand on top of his, I stop him before he reaches the last
button.
To my astonishment, Cole doesn’t protest, he goes back to kissing me.
“I want you,” he murmurs between kisses, or at least I think he does.
His slurring is becoming worse and his breathing is growing shallow.
I’m about to ask if he’s okay, but his lips travel down…until he’s sucking
and biting a tender spot on my neck that has tingles racing up my spine.
Shit.
I have to stop this. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.
Girl, please—my mind taunts. Cole knows exactly what he’s doing.
The clever asshole’s turning me to putty with every stroke of his tongue.
A garbled hiss leaves me when his mouth dips lower, grazing my
cleavage.
“Jesus,” he groans. “I knew they were big, but these are…”
Ginormous, kinda saggy, non-symmetrical.
“Fucking perfect.” He blows a hot gust of air over the soft, white material
covering my breast and kneads the other one with his big hand. “I need them
in my mouth.”
Good God. Eve had it easy with that dang apple.
If the Devil really wanted to tempt her, he should have made her spend
two minutes alone in a room with Cole Covington while he touched her body
and whispered dirty things.
My cheeks heat as I glance down and he buries his face in my boobs,
groaning my name.
I silently pray for the strength to stop this before it goes too far.
“We can’t have sex,” I croak, coming to my senses.
“Relax.” I gasp when he nips my nipple through my bra. “I just want to
suck these for a little while.” The hand massaging my other breast slips
down, and he plucks the waistband of my leggings. “And find out what this
untouched pussy of yours tastes like.”
Oh. Hell.
I scan my brain, but fail to come up with a valid reason why I should stop
that train from leaving the station.
My virginity is for my future husband, but it doesn’t mean I can’t
experience other things.
Especially things that make me feel so good.
Like the way Cole’s squeezing my boobs while his mouth eagerly goes
back and forth between them, as if he can’t decide which one he likes more,
so he’s determined to have both at once.
A tremor runs through me when he tugs the cups of my bra down,
exposing me.
“Even better.”
My lungs seize and the trembling gets worse the second his mouth lands
on my skin. I’m so nervous, I feel like I can’t breathe.
“So soft,” he slurs into my flesh.
His sluggish voice sounds a million miles away.
I try to respond, but the pressure in my chest gets worse.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was having a...
Shit on a stick.
I haven’t had an asthma attack in over six months and it happens now.
Wheezing, I stretch my arm over my head and grab my purse off the
pillow. It’s where I keep the inhaler my mom insists I have with me at all
times. Just in case.
Bringing it to my lips, I quickly suck in one puff and then another. Relief
flows through me as the pressure dissipates and I fill my lungs with air.
Cole’s been surprisingly silent during the whole ordeal, but I can’t blame
him. It’s safe to say I’ve officially ruined the mood.
I draw in another deep breath before speaking. “Sorry about—”
The sound of him snoring softly has me swallowing that sentence.
I look down, and sure enough, his eyes are closed, and his cheek is
nuzzling my left boob—like my tits are his personal freaking pillows.
He looks so content, it would almost be adorable if it wasn’t for what we
were doing moments prior.
I can’t believe he fell asleep while I was having an asthma attack and he
was…
I grind my teeth. I’m not sure if I should feel offended or embarrassed…
or both.
I’m attempting to tuck the girls back inside my bra when I hear the sound
of heels clacking outside the door.
Oh, God. Please don’t let that be Casey and her clan of bitches.
My first week at RHA, Britney—Casey’s predecessor—along with Casey
and a few other cheerleaders, stole my clothes from the locker room while I
showered. I had no choice but to roam the halls in a towel so I could find a
teacher while everyone laughed and mooed at me.
Of course, Britney also posted a picture of the event on Instagram. It was
horrible and hurt like hell, but it taught me a valuable lesson. A few of them
actually.
Don’t put yourself in a compromising position—because students at RHA
love starting rumors and thrive on gossip.
Never let your guard down around bitches.
Make sure you have spare clothes in your car and backpack.
My heart sinks. I’ve already broken rule number one tonight.
“Get up,” I hiss as I frantically button up my sweater.
Cole doesn’t budge and he’s too heavy to push off, but it doesn’t
matter…the doorknob is already turning.
We’re both so screwed.
Serves me right. This is what I get for hooking up with another girl’s
boyfriend.
Even though Cole is convinced Casey’s cheating on him. Two wrongs
don’t make a right.
No matter how good the wrongs feel together.
“Get off me,” I growl in a last-ditch effort before the door opens and the
lights flick on.
“What the hell?” Bianca’s brown eyes are wide as saucers. “Are you
okay?”
For a moment I think she’s talking to her brother, but her gaze is trained
on me.
The girl—who’s usually so cool and composed—looks like her entire
world is crumbling.
That’s when it occurs to me what it might look like from her perspective.
Crap.
“I’m fine,” I assure her, searching my brain for something that won’t
expose our little tryst, but can still account for why he’s on top of me. “Cole
was...” I hold up the inhaler in my hand, as though it explains everything.
“Helping me breathe.”
Bianca lifts an eyebrow. “What?”
What is right because my next sentence is a steaming pile of horseshit,
but the hole’s already been dug and it’s the best I can do.
Plus, my pride refuses to let me tell her the embarrassing truth.
I make a mental note to call Dylan when I get home, because at least she
won’t make fun of me when she hears about Cole passing out mid-hookup.
“I was having an asthma attack when he stumbled in here drunk.” I
clarify, mixing two elements of the truth together. “I told him I couldn’t
breathe and he…started performing CPR.”
Yup, because that makes so much sense.
Understandably, she looks at me like I’ve sprouted another head. “Why
would he perform CPR if you have an inhaler in your hand, and you were
still able to breathe well enough to tell him you couldn’t?” She crosses her
arms. “Not to mention, how could he possibly do all that while he’s
sleeping?”
Those are very good questions. Who knew Bianca was so astute?
“Right? To tell you the truth, I was wondering the same thing…but you
know how Cole is when he drinks. He’s not exactly the most—”
“Did you find him?” Oakley calls out, barreling into the room behind
her.
I’m not sure what to make of the look on his face when his eyes land on
Cole who’s still snoozing…on top of me.
“Cole was giving her CPR,” Bianca offers with a coy smile.
Baffled and tipsy himself, Oakley scratches his head. “Well either he
screwed up, or Sawyer got greedy and stole all his air until he passed out.”
Eyes narrowed; he wags a finger at me. “You better fix him.”
Yeah, I really have to start tutoring him ASAP, because that is not how it
works.
“Can one of you please close the door?”
I’m much better off containing this little fire between the three—make
that four—of us.
Bianca starts to close it but pauses. “Fine, but only if you agree to do
something for us.”
I don’t like the sound of this one bit, but I don’t really have a choice.
“What?”
She looks at Oakley who’s lighting a joint. “Oakley drove us here, but
he’s too trashed to drive now. And given Cole’s still in his” —she makes air
quotes— “CPR coma and I don’t have a license, we’re gonna need a ride
home.”
“Deal.” I glare at both of them. If Bianca can play the manipulation game,
so can I. “As long as you two keep your mouth shut about this. Not that
anything happened, I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea.”
Especially when I haven’t had a chance to wrap my head around what
happened myself.
Not that I’m expecting Cole to break up with Casey and start dating me,
but I do think we need to have a conversation about what transpired between
us tonight. When he’s sober.
Oakley takes a drag off his joint. “Shit, I can barely remember what
happened five minutes ago.”
“Five minutes ago, your tongue was still down Morgan’s throat,” Bianca
mutters under her breath as she closes the door and walks over to the bed.
We both attempt to move her brother, but fail. Not only is Cole a lot
heavier than he looks, apparently he’s also the type who could sleep through
a bomb going off.
She snaps her fingers at Oakley, who’s still happily toking away. “A little
help here.”
After tossing the roach out the window, he joins us.
“Shouldn’t have slammed all that whiskey before, man,” Oak says as he
stands up a wobbly, and still out of it, Cole. “I told you, beer before liquor—”
Oakley doesn’t get a chance to finish that sentence because Cole
retches…right before he proceeds to puke all over the bed.
I’m grateful I had the good sense to get off it when I did. I’m also feeling
much better about him passing out on top of me…because it could have been
so much worse.
I shudder as I recall Dylan telling me about Jace vomiting pineapple pizza
all over Britney Caldwell in the middle of a party last year.
Her reputation was destroyed after that. Although it had less to do with
the pizza, and more to do with him proclaiming how she’s not exactly fresh
down there.
Either way, it was karma.
“Never been sicker,” Oakley finishes before turning his attention to a
visibly disgusted Bianca. “I’m gonna take him to the bathroom.”
Bianca nods. “Good idea.”
“I’m gonna search for a bucket or bowl,” I state as Oakley hauls him
away.
I once gave a guy from my youth group a ride home after he got sick at
church. It took over a month for the putrid smell to fully disappear, and I
really don’t want to relive the experience of cleaning puke from my van
again.
I head for the door, but Bianca halts me.
“Sawyer?”
“Yeah?”
Lips quirking, she gestures to my cardigan. “You missed a few buttons.”
SAWYER
Nerves flutter in my belly as I exit my van and head for the school entrance.
It’s Monday morning, which sucks already, but sucks a whole lot more
when you’ve been waiting for someone to call or text you all weekend.
Granted Cole doesn’t have my number, but considering his brother is
shacked up with my best friend, it’s not like he’d have to jump through hoops
to get it.
Even a message on Instagram would have sufficed.
But nope. I got nothing.
Which puts me in the crappy position of having to reach out to him first.
I suppose I could ignore it and pretend nothing happened, but that’s dumb
because something did happen.
Something that has the potential to make things awkward and weird.
I don’t want things to be awkward or weird between us.
And maybe there’s also a tiny part of me that’s secretly hoping he feels
whatever this thing is between us too.
Womp womp…there it is.
The tiny kernel of truth I’ve been trying to shove down in hopes it will go
away.
I have a crush on Cole Covington…and I hate myself for it.
He’s everything I despise in a person.
He’s cocky, ruthless, a womanizer, and worst of all—he mocks my faith.
Yet…there’s something about him I can’t ignore.
Stupid teenage hormones. They ruin everything.
My stomach somersaults as I pass his car in the parking lot.
I don’t bother hiding my grimace.
The bright green Ferrari is just as obnoxious, flashy, and arrogant as he is.
Rumor has it not only did it cost a fortune, it’s incredibly rare. As in there are
less than twenty people in the world with the same vehicle.
Can’t say I’m surprised. The Covingtons are as loaded as they are
plagued with tragedy.
Cole’s mother was a former Bollywood actress before she passed away in
a terrible car accident. According to the gossip mill, not only was she
gorgeous like her children, she might have been part of some royal family in
India.
I don’t know much about Jason Covington—Cole’s dad—apart from him
being the head of a well-known pharmaceutical company.
I silently add another check mark to my con list. Everyone knows people
who run pharmaceutical companies don’t have souls.
Must be where Cole got it from.
Okay, that’s not fair. Cole does have a soul.
He bared pieces of it to me the other night.
Steeling myself, I keep walking toward the entrance.
I feel it the moment I enter the building. The energy in this place is…off.
Or rather, it’s all directed at me in the form of side glances, not so subtle
dirty looks from various girls, a few grins from some random guys, and lots
of whispers.
Tiny beads of sweat break out along my forehead and down my back, but
I force myself to breathe.
The only way you’ll survive this hellhole is to never let them see you
sweat.
Forcing my gaze to the floor, I make a beeline for my locker.
A few rows down, I notice Cole standing by his while talking to Dwight
Davis, Cortland Bennet, and a few other guys from his team.
Dwight’s a decent guy. Well, at least he appears that way every Sunday
morning when I see him at church.
But Cortland? Dude is a prick with a capital P.
Not only have I caught him blatantly leering at my chest so many times
I’ve lost count, he’s pompous and has a bad habit of bullying some of the
unpopular kids for sport.
I guess it makes sense that he and Cole are friends. Birds of a feather and
all that.
Either way, I’m not stupid enough to walk over and talk to Cole while
he’s with them.
There are some things you never forget about a person, and when I was
forced to walk the halls in a towel—it was Cortland who mooed the loudest
and encouraged people to join him.
Reaching into my backpack, I quickly shift some books around.
“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but word on the street is Casey has a
bullet with your name on it.”
My heart lodges in my throat as I stare into a pair of bloodshot cobalt-
blue eyes belonging to Oakley.
“What?”
Why in the world would Casey—or anyone for that matter—want to
shoot me?
Maybe cuz you hooked up with her boyfriend—my brain unhelpfully
points out.
“Relax,” he says. “She’s not gonna kill you.” One shoulder rises in a
shrug. “She’s just planning on kicking your ass by the time school lets out.”
The dumbass must have forgotten that the one and only time Casey and I
fought, I was the one who came out the victor.
“Who tol—” I stop myself before I finish that sentence.
I don’t want to admit to any wrongdoing. Not without talking to Cole
first.
Maybe we can explain to Casey that her boyfriend was drunk, and our
hookup meant nothing.
My heart sinks. It’s clearly not a fan of that idea.
“I mean why would she want to kick my ass?”
Oakley gives me a pointed look. “Apparently your little CPR session with
her boyfriend got back to her…make that everyone.” He holds up his hands
innocently. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t say shit. Someone else must
have overheard you or walked in while you two were mouth to mouth.”
Motherfucker. That would explain all the looks and whispers I’ve been
getting.
“Oh my God.” Everything feels like it’s spinning.
Casey kicking my ass I can handle, but everyone knowing my business,
speculating about my personal life…
I don’t want to be the talk of the school. I don’t want people to talk about
me, period.
I already know what they’ll say.
“Whoa, you don’t look so good,” Oakley notes. “Want me to call Dylan?
I bet she’ll scare her off.”
“No.”
I have no doubt my BFF can put Casey in her place with a single punch,
but this isn’t Dylan’s battle.
It’s mine.
I did something wrong, and now I have to own up to it and pay the price.
“I’ll be back soon. I just have to…” I gesture to the bathroom and start
walking.
I need a second to breathe and compose myself before I deal with the
fallout.
I’m grateful it’s empty when I walk inside.
Well, except for Bianca, who’s standing by the sinks applying mascara to
her already long lashes.
“You look like shit,” she greets me when our eyes meet in the mirror.
I turn on the faucet. “I feel like it.” Splashing some cold water on my
cheeks, I mutter. “Everyone knows about me and Cole.”
There’s no point in denying it any longer. She’s bound to hear the truth
sooner or later.
“Damn. Word got around faster than I thought.” Smiling wryly, she fishes
a tube of lip gloss from her purse. “You’re welcome.”
It’s all I can do not to shove that lip gloss down her throat.
“Wait…you were the one who started the rumor? What the fuck, Bianca?
You promised.”
Rolling her eyes, she swipes the gloss over her red lips. “Don’t be so
dramatic. I was doing you a favor.”
I can feel my blood pressure rising to dangerous levels. “A favor? What
kind of fav—”
“Hate to break it to you, but you’re a loser.” She shrugs nonchalantly.
“Now…not so much.” She smacks her lips together. “In the span of a
weekend, you went from a mousy little Jesus lover to the girl who hooked up
with the most popular guy at school. It makes everyone think of you as
mysterious and sexy…instead of boring and weird.” Our eyes connect in the
mirror again. “Like I said, you’re welcome.”
She’s out of her damn mind. “I don’t want people thinking of me like
that. I don’t want people thinking of me at all.” I clutch my chest, forcing
myself to breathe. “Thanks to your big mouth, Casey wants to kick my ass.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry. The bitch can’t fight for shit. You can
take her.”
She doesn’t get it. “I don’t want to take her. What I want is—”
“My brother?” Before I can argue, she adds, “Good news, Church. I think
he wants you too. For what it’s worth, I’d much rather him be with you than
Casey. Jace is already dating someone I can’t stand, and the thought of both
my brothers—”
“Hey,” I growl. “Dylan is amazing.”
“Yeah, an amazingly manipulative cunt.”
Seriously? Has Bianca met herself?
“If it isn’t the pot calling the kettle black.”
Another eye roll. “Whatever.” She snatches her purse off the sink ledge.
“I tried to help you.”
“That’s not how you help a friend,” I shout as she walks away. “You
could have at least told me—”
A cruel laugh silences me. “Wow.” Hand over her heart, she turns
around. “You thought we were friends?”
Not exactly, but I didn’t think we were enemies. Plus, why would she go
through the effort of helping someone she didn’t like?
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Honey, no.” Her pretty face scrunches. “I don’t have friends. At best, I
have temporary allies who don’t make me want to bash their skulls in with
my heels.”
Slowly, she walks toward me. “Casey is the head of the cheerleading
squad, and therefore thinks she runs RHA, but she doesn’t.” Eyes narrowed;
she studies her nails. “The twat also made the unfortunate mistake of texting
someone who’s not my brother nonstop during practice last week. When I
find out who it is and I have proof she can’t deny, I’m going to ruin her life.”
A wicked grin lights her face. “Then I’m going to take her place…and make
her and everyone at RHA my bitch.”
Well, shit.
She gets uncomfortably close to my face. “Word of advice? I suggest you
stay on my good side.” She takes out her lip gloss for a second time. “And
stay still. You could use a little color.”
Before I can protest, she starts applying some to my lips. “My brother is
an asshole, but for some reason he’s fond of you.” Sticking the wand back
inside the tube, she holds my stare. “I think you’d be good for him, Sawyer.
But I should warn you, if you ever cheat or intentionally hurt him, I’ll slit
your goddamn throat like you’re my very own sacrificial lamb.
Understood?”
Jesus. “I—”
“Understood?”
When I nod, she smiles. “Great. Now quit talking to me and go get your
man.”
My man? Bianca must be delusional. Girls like me don’t get our men…
because they usually don’t want us.
They want girls like her.
But what if Cole isn’t like the rest of them? What if he actually likes me?
It sure as hell seemed like he did the other night.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Wait,” she calls out behind me.
“What—what the hell are you doing?” I try to swat her hand away, but
she manages to undo the first button on my shirt. “You have great tits. You
shouldn’t keep them covered all the time.” She does a once-over and makes a
face. “Take that stupid headband off. It makes you look like a ten-year-old on
school picture day.”
God grant me strength. She is such a brat.
After tossing it in the trash and running her fingers through my waist-
length dark hair, she shrugs. “It’s not great, but it’s the best I can do on such
short notice. You should seriously consider getting contacts…and some
highlights. Wearing makeup wouldn’t hurt either.”
“I am wearing makeup.”
I put mascara on this morning. Because I knew I’d be talking to Cole.
Her nose wrinkles. “Next time try the kind that makes you look better, not
worse.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Casting her an irritated glare, I walk out of the bathroom.
The nerves I was trying to stifle nearly burst out of my chest as I amble
down the hall. However, I quickly come to my senses when I notice Cole’s
still talking to his teammates.
Probably not the best time to declare my strange feelings or bring up our
hookup.
It should be done in private. That way no one can eavesdrop and start
more rumors.
I’m about to walk back to my locker, but his gaze catches mine.
My knees buckle as I take in his piercing hazel-green eyes, tousled dark
hair, perfectly structured jawline, and cheekbones so razor-sharp they’d cut
right through granite.
It’s not fair. Boys like him shouldn’t be so damn beautiful.
Self-doubt creeps in again, but I force myself to stuff it back down.
He likes me.
Sure, he didn’t call, but you don’t share the kind of things he did if you
don’t feel a connection with someone.
And you definitely don’t kiss someone the way he kissed me if you’re not
attracted to them.
Drunk or not, Cole gave me a glimpse of the real him that night.
Perhaps it’s time I silence the negative voice inside my head for good so
it doesn’t ruin this thing between us before it even starts.
Because maybe, just maybe… a girl like me can get the guy.
COLE
I sense her the moment she walks out of the bathroom.
I’m not sure what she did in there, but those pouty heart-shaped lips are
red and shiny.
I barely manage to suppress the groan of irritation lodged in my throat.
She’s trying to impress me. Which can only mean one thing.
Christ. My mistakes are piling up by the second.
I shouldn’t have gotten so drunk this weekend.
I shouldn’t have wandered upstairs.
And I most definitely shouldn’t have talked to Sawyer Church—Little
Miss Bible Thumper—and let her see that side of me.
I grind my molars so hard I’m surprised they don’t turn to dust.
According to the rumors, there are a few more things I shouldn’t have
done with her.
Things I have no recollection of because I blacked out mid-conversation.
Fuck.
Behind a pair of black-rimmed glasses, her big brown eyes hold mine…
seeking answers to a slew of unspoken questions.
Answers I can’t give her, because I don’t fucking remember.
All I know is whatever we may or may not have done that night is ruining
her untainted, pristine reputation.
And mine.
Peeling my gaze away, I direct my attention back to Dwight and
Cortland.
As usual, Cortland’s being his dickhead self. Beating around the bush in a
pretentious mocking way that annoys the shit out of me.
“So, how was it?”
I stuff my blazer inside my locker. “How was what?”
I’ve been dealing with his stupid innuendos for the last five minutes and
I’m reaching the end of my fuse.
He exchanges a glance with Dwight. “Come on, Covington. Don’t be shy.
Tell us how your little hookup was.”
My hand clenches into a fist. I have to remind myself my arm will be
worth millions one day, and Cortland isn’t worth shit.
“Bet a girl who looks like that was awfully desperate to please,” Lennox
Wallace, one of my linebackers, chimes in.
A few of our teammates snicker.
Ignoring them, I swivel my gaze to the opposite end of the hall.
As if things couldn’t get any worse, Casey and her posse are marching
toward me.
Bianca texted me earlier that Casey had told the girls on the team she was
going to kick Sawyer’s ass if it was true.
Casey’s outrage over my drunken betrayal is almost comical given
Bianca’s positive she’s cheating on me.
However, it’s just speculation and I don’t have proof.
All I have is a pissed off girlfriend who’s currently glaring daggers at me
as her heels clack against the terrazzo floor.
And another girl who’s looking at me like I’m some kind of knight in
shining armor.
The same girl I’ve forced myself to stay away from for the last three
months.
Sawyer has a way of getting under my skin and inside my head like no
one else…which makes her a hazard.
Even more so now.
There’s only one way to restore order and fix this shit.
I turn to Cortland. “You’re gonna have to be more specific. I’ve hooked
up with a lot of girls.”
Way more than he has.
This time he’s the one who appears confused. “You really don’t
remember?”
“Remember what?” I roar, drawing everyone’s attention to our
conversation. “I was drunk as fuck on Friday.”
Sawyer’s steps falter.
Smiling snidely, Cortland looks around the small circle of people
surrounding us. It appears everyone is interested in our little pow wow.
“Hate to break it to you, but rumor has it you fucked Sawyer Church at
Christian’s over the weekend.” Before I can answer, he slaps my shoulder.
“Never pegged you for a chubby chaser, but I hear Jesus freaks are wild in
bed.”
My laugh sounds convincing, even to my own ears. “You’re shitting me,
right?” Before he can protest, I seethe, “Why the hell would I ever fuck some
fat virgin when I can have prime pussy whenever I want it?”
I feel the weight of everyone’s stare as Casey sidles up beside me. On
cue, I sling an arm around her.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Oakley looking at me like I’m a
scumbag.
Whatever. He can kiss my ass. This is my reputation on the line.
And hers.
Not only will Sawyer be branded a slut—because that’s what girls in high
school do—Casey and the rest of the cheerleaders will make her life a living
hell.
Besides, Casey and I make sense. Us being together is what people
expect.
What someone like me should want.
I’ve spent a long time building this life for myself and I’m not about to let
some drunken mistake rip it all away.
No matter how much Sawyer intrigues me.
Looking at my girlfriend, I grunt, “Babe, tell this moron what happened
on Friday since he’s so interested in where I stick my dick.”
Not missing a beat, Casey chirps, “You got trashed and then we went
upstairs.” She narrows her eyes at him. “Why are you so interested in my
boyfriend’s junk, Cortland? If you’re switching teams, I’m afraid you’re out
of luck. My squad is already full.”
No matter how upset she is, I knew she’d step up to the plate.
Not because she loves me or she’s ride or die—but because we’ve been
dubbed RHA’s power couple, and the notion of me cheating on her with
someone like Sawyer is a huge insult to her vapid ego.
Just like me, Casey knows it’s important to keep up appearances and give
the world a show.
Conceal who you really are.
Cortland looks embarrassed, but I’m not done with him.
Gripping his collar with my free hand, I fix him with a glare that makes it
crystal clear not to cross me again. “Next time you give me the third degree
about my sex life, I’ll slap your ugly mug with my cock. Just like I do to all
the other uppity cumsluts who don’t know when to hop the fuck off.”
His face goes slack as everyone hoots and hollers.
Grinning, I lightly punch his shoulder. “Don’t come to practice until you
find your balls, Bennet. Football is for real men. Not wannabes who run their
mouth and spread rumors like some little pre-teen bitch.”
I look at my teammates. “Same goes for the rest of you.”
Respect illuminates their faces once more. Crisis averted.
Feeling like a weight has been lifted, my hand finds Casey’s ass and we
start trekking down the hallway.
As usual, everyone’s eyes are on me.
Except Sawyer.
She’s peering down at her shoes…as if it hurts too much to look at me.
Good.
I warned her not to get too close.
Chapter 1
SAWYER
T here’s nothing like the high after a win. The addictive energy
has a way of seeping through your pores and coursing through
your body like a live wire.
I’m so pumped, Cortland’s annoying ass isn’t even bothering me.
Dwight, who scored the last touchdown of the game, grins. “Man, that
hook and ladder play was lit. Good call, Covington. How’d you know it
would work so well?”
I shrug as I lead my team to the locker room. We have less than fifteen
minutes to shower before we have to head back out to the field so they can
announce homecoming king and queen.
As if everyone doesn’t already know who won.
“Easy. Number sixty-two is still healing from a bum knee so he can’t run
fast, and number forty-four is afraid of getting injured so he half-asses
everything.” Not wanting to take all the glory, I throw him a bone since—
according to my coach—I need to work on my sportsmanship. “But even if
he didn’t, I knew you’d be too fast for them.”
“Shit, I felt nothing but air behind me. It’s like they weren’t even trying.”
Cortland snorts. “Bunch of pussies.”
“Yeah, buddy. Bastards should consider this payback for last year.”
Lennox, from the defense, slaps my shoulder. “Can’t keep a QB like
Covington down for long.”
My smile matches his. “Damn straight.”
Last year Tommy DaSilva—the most worthless piece of manipulating
shit on the planet—intentionally injured me on the field during the second
most important game of the season.
Thanks to the concussion the motherfucker gave me, I wasn’t allowed to
play in the championship game.
The Saints ended up winning instead.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hate him and the rest of those asshole
Vikings with the fire of a thousand burning suns.
Fortunately, Tommy graduated last year so I don’t have to see or hear
about him anymore.
Too bad I can’t say the same about Todd Harris, the Viking’s starting
quarterback.
The dude is good, I’ll give him that. But it’s only because his dad, uncle,
and grandfather were all in the NFL.
Fucker’s been training since he was a little shit in diapers.
He didn’t have to work for it like I did.
And yeah, I guess maybe I’m bitter because he had everything handed to
him, but something about the guy rubs me the wrong way.
Although it’s most likely because he wants the same thing I do.
Word on the street is that Duke’s Heart—who has the best college
football team on the West Coast—is taking one quarterback next year.
Todd Harris is gunning for the spot.
So am I.
As if reading my mind, Dwight asks, “You think Harris is out for the
season?”
One can only hope.
Right before halftime, he got sacked by Lennox and a few others. He was
limping when he got up, so they pulled him off the field and stuck their
backup QB in to finish the game.
As much as I hate to admit it, his injury probably played a part in our easy
victory tonight.
I push open the locker room door. “Nah, I don’t think—”
The rest of that sentence falls by the wayside when the sound of people
screwing fills my ears.
“Well, damn,” Dwight mutters with a laugh.
“Sounds like someone decided to celebrate early,” Cortland remarks.
Yeah, question is who?
“More,” some girl whines in a breathy voice. “Harder.”
The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I know that breathy whine.
A moment later, my girlfriend comes into view.
Her cheerleading skirt is pushed up past her thighs and her spray-tanned
legs are wrapped around some Viking’s waist as he fucks her senseless
against the lockers.
Ice fills my veins when I notice the number on the back of his jersey.
Todd Harris.
Chapter 3
COLE
“H ey,” Jace calls out when I’m halfway down the hall.
I was so distracted I walked right past him.
Get your shit together.
I spin around. “Yo.”
Expression full of concern, he walks toward me. “You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Shoving his hands into the oversized pocket of his hoodie, he blows out a
breath. “I don’t know. You seem off.”
My brother and I have a weird relationship. He’s only a year older, but
he’s the one who stepped up and took care of things after our family fell
apart.
He’s also the only person who’s ever given a shit about me.
Jace wouldn’t just take a bullet for me and Bianca…he’d take an entire
magazine for us.
It’s why he’s the only person in my life who gets what little respect I have
to give.
After checking to make sure no one else is within earshot, I tell him the
truth.
“I caught Casey fucking Todd Harris in the locker room.”
Along with the rest of the football team.
His eyes widen. “Shit. That fucking sucks.” The vein in his forehead
makes an appearance. “If you want me to feed him his teeth, just say the
word. I don’t want you blowing your shot with Duke’s over some asshole.”
As much as I appreciate his offer to handle Todd, this shit is my beef, not
his.
“Nah, don’t waste your time. Truth is, I’ve been wanting to get rid of
Casey’s skanky ass for a while now. She just happened to beat me to it is
all.”
His lips twitch. “Well, don’t stress it. It’s not like you’ll be single for
long. I’m sure there’s plenty of girls willing to give up their right tit to make
your dick wet.”
He’s not wrong.
Too bad I’ve fucked most of them already and I’m growing tired of their
fake moans and monotonous moves.
Half the time they just lie there like a dead fish. As if the thought of
getting fucked by me is more interesting than the actual act.
No wonder Oakley fucked his stepmom.
High school girls are boring as hell. Especially when they’re virgins.
Screwing one of them is the equivalent of forcing yourself to eat bland,
dry chicken without any seasoning for twenty minutes straight in order to get
rid of your hunger.
Personally, I’d rather starve.
Reaching over, I bump my fist with his. “Truth.” I motion down the
hallway. “I should get going. They’ll be calling my name any minute. Thanks
for coming to the game.”
“Hold up,” he says when I start to leave.
“What’s good?”
“The sperm donor’s still on his business trip, right?”
“Yeah. I think he said something about being back on Tuesday.”
Whereas Jace harbors resentment toward our father and refuses to take a
single cent from him now that he’s able to support himself—I simply don’t
give a fuck and have no problem milking the fucker for every penny I can.
The way I see it, it’s the least Jason Covington can do.
Plus, I manage to accrue some pretty sweet shit when I act like I don’t
hate his guts for five minutes.
Like my most prized possession. A two-million-dollar LaFerrari I dub
the green monster.
I scored it shortly after we caught him red-handed with his latest whore
Nadia, and Jace let it slip that he cheated on our mom before she died.
Bastard.
“Good. I’m coming over on Sunday.” He rubs the back of his neck.
“Bianca’s been on my case a lot lately. She thinks Dylan’s keeping me away
from you guys.” His gaze cuts to mine. “It’s not like that though. Dylan
would never do that.”
Oh hell. Here we go.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Dylan makes you happy.
Don’t let Bianca ruin that.”
He sighs. “I know. I just hate that she thinks I don’t care about h—”
“She knows you care, Jace. The only reason she’s acting like a jealous
brat and making you feel bad is because you let her. Point blank, Bianca
wants the attention and enjoys feeling like she has some kind of power over
your relationship with Dylan.”
Sometimes my big brother needs a dose of reality.
He knows as well as I do Bianca enjoys fucking with people and
slithering into their psyche so she can control them.
Fortunately for her, she has an advantage, thanks to our mother’s looks
and inheriting the asshole Covington gene from our dad.
Unfortunately for everyone else, the girl has no boundaries and there’s no
telling how far she’d go to get whatever she wants.
The fact she’s planning to become a psychiatrist after she graduates is…
unnerving.
The world will be fucked once Bianca starts pulling the strings of the
mentally ill and criminally insane.
Which is why Jace needs to stop allowing her to play him like a fiddle.
My brother’s gone soft ever since he fell in love, but he’ll end up getting
burned if he’s not careful.
“You’re right.” Another sigh. “I just don’t want her to feel like she can’t
come to me, or like I’m abandoning her or some shit. She—”
“Man, shut it down. Bianca has you wrapped around her little finger and
the more you give in to her bullshit, the tighter her grip will become.”
She’s my baby sister, therefore I’ll always have her back if anyone hurts
her, but the girl is a master manipulator if there ever was one.
I pity whatever poor schmuck she ends up setting her sights on. The
clown won’t ever be able to escape from her crazy ass.
Hell, if Cortland wasn’t such a perverted prick, I’d set the two of them
up.
Fucker deserves a little misery.
Nodding, Jace crosses his arms. “I will. Sunday morning I’m gonna sit
her down and tell her to cut the shit because Dylan isn’t going anywhere ever,
and Bianca needs to accept it.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll tell Oakley to come over for a family meeting.
With all three of us there, she’ll know we mean business and back off.”
I start to walk away for a third time, but he stops me again. “Yeah…about
that.” I’m not sure what to make of the grim expression on his face. “I don’t
want Oakley there.”
That’s…peculiar. Oak’s our brother from another mother. “He always
comes to our family meetings.”
“Not anymore.”
Irritation crawls along my neck. “Why the fuck not?”
“Because he came over high as a kite last night.” His nostrils flare. “And
right when I was getting ready to press him on it, Loki called and he walked
outside.”
Loki’s a drug dealer from the other side of town. The guy is bad news and
Oak’s admitted to buying ecstasy, coke, and heroin off him a few times in the
past.
However, Loki also sells weed—and according to Oak—marijuana helps
manage his epilepsy.
I open my mouth to defend my friend, but then Jace grinds out, “A few
minutes later I found him seizing on the patio.”
“Shit.”
Given Oakley’s condition, seizures happen…but not that often.
Not unless he’s under extreme stress or taking drugs he shouldn’t.
But as much as the thought of him using again irks me, Jace shouldn’t cut
him off because of a slip-up. Dude’s life hasn’t exactly been a picnic lately.
“He’s been arguing with his dad a lot,” I inform him. “Wayne wants him
to come back home, but he refuses.”
Jace remains stone-faced. “I know.”
“Yeah, and you also know how much Crystal getting pregnant really
fucked him up. Cut him some goddamn slack.”
His eyes darken in challenge. “I’m out of slack. When the sperm-donor
gets back, I’m telling him to kick Oak out of the guesthouse. He’s fucking
with Loki again, and I don’t want you or Bianca around it. Kicking him out is
the only way I can protect you.”
It’s not often we fight, but fuck him and the judgmental horse he rode in
on. “Oakley’s not Walter White, Jace. He’s your best friend and he’s going
through some shit. If you make Dad kick him out, you’re all but signing his
death warrant because he’s only gonna hang out with Loki more and we both
know how that relationship will end up.”
With Oakley dead in a ditch or scrubbing for change on a street corner for
his next hit.
“He’s hurting Dylan.” Anger flashes in his gaze. “I can handle Oakley’s
fuck-ups, but Dylan can’t. Last night after he left, she cried herself to sleep
because he got high, and that is not fucking okay.”
I snort. “Sounds like your little goodie-two-shoes needs to get a grip.”
I’m glad Jace is happy, but his girlfriend’s been at the top of my shit list
these days.
After shit went down with Sawyer a few months ago, Jace read me the
riot act and told me to stay away from her because Dylan would kick my ass
if I hurt her precious bestie again.
When I told him I’d like to see her try, he said she wouldn’t get the
chance, because he’d rip off my throwing arm and shove it up my ass.
It wasn’t the first time he took someone else’s side over mine.
He shoves me. “Don’t be a dick, asshole. She’s worried about him.” His
shoulders slump on an exhale. “We both are.” The edges of his lips whiten
with a deep scowl. “But I’m not gonna waste my time or energy explaining
that to someone like you.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Dylan’s worried about Oakley because she loves him.” He starts
walking away. “Which is something you’ll never understand the concept of
because you’re way too goddamn selfish.”
He’s not wrong.
Bianca’s already diagnosed me as a sociopath due to my narcissism and
lack of empathy.
I told her it was because I had yet to meet anyone worth giving a single
fuck about.
She muttered God must have gotten his wires crossed and gave Liam all
the compassion…and me all the evil.
So I asked her where Liam’s compassion was when he secured a rope
around his neck and left his family to find his corpse hanging in a closet
during breakfast.
Then I smiled when she ran off crying.
“Good chat,” I bite out as he wanders down the hall. “I’ll make sure to
tell Oakley to come over for breakfast around nine. Maybe you can make
everyone pancakes…just like old times.”
His response is a somber shake of his head and a middle finger.
Jace will never admit it, but I know exactly what he’s thinking.
The wrong twin died that day.
Chapter 4
SAWYER
“I don’t know what to do,” Dylan whispers from our seats in the
stands.
After the football game, Jace went off to talk to his brother
—the asshole who shall not be named—and I asked Dylan if everything was
okay because she looked stressed.
Poor girl practically came apart at the seams, which is alarming because
Dylan’s not one to lose her shit.
It’s how I know things are bad.
“Should I tell my uncle about the affair?”
Wincing, I shake my head. “I think that will only make Oakley’s
problems worse. He’s avoiding his dad because he can’t face telling him the
truth, remember?”
“No, he’s avoiding Crystal because she’s pregnant and Oakley still has
feelings for her.” She makes a face. “He’s turning to drugs because he
doesn’t have the courage to tell his dad what happened.”
Can’t say I blame the guy. I’m not sure I’d be able to deal with the guilt
or have the guts to drop that bomb on my dad either.
Given Crystal’s baby isn’t Oakley’s, I can only assume it’s her husband’s.
Which means he or she is Oakley’s little brother or sister.
A brother or sister he might not ever see if his father disowns him.
A brother or sister who could end up with a broken home, and without a
parent if his dad divorces his wife.
Talk about a rock and a hard spot.
However, drugs aren’t going to fix any of his issues. If anything, they’re
only going to create more.
“Look, I know it’s hard to hear, but if Oakley’s using drugs, you might
have to give him some tough love and keep your distance.”
“No.” Determination flickers in her blue orbs. “I didn’t give up on Jace
when he took his grief out on me, and I’m not giving up on Oakley for trying
to numb the pain my aunt caused.”
Swear Dylan has more perseverance in her pinky than most people have
during their entire lifetime.
It’s one of the many reasons we clicked and why I love her so much.
The girl doesn’t take any shit and gives it back even better than she
gets… but deep down, she’ll never truly give up on those she loves.
Even when they don’t deserve it.
“I know, and I’m definitely not saying you should. But I do think you
need to set some boundaries and make it clear you don’t want to be around
him if he’s high.”
Well, high on anything other than weed. Because Lord knows that boy
smokes more than a chimney.
Rubbing her palms on her jeans, she nods. “You’re right. I just don’t want
him to think I don’t care and push him away.”
“You won’t. If anything, it will show him how much you care and how
worried you are. Kind of like a mini intervention.” I clutch my cup of hot
chocolate. “Oak’s a big softie deep down, and he loves you. I’m sure hearing
how scared you are and how much he’s hurting you will make him stop.”
I hope.
To be honest, I really have no experience with drugs or dealing with
addicts.
All I know is they tend to hurt the people they love…over and over
again.
I really hope for Dylan’s—but more importantly, Oakley’s sake—he
turns it around.
“I suppose it’s dumb to ask if he ever contacted you about tutoring,
huh?”
I hate that I have to crush the hopeful look on my friend’s face. “No, but I
can try texting him again if you want.”
She lets out a heavy sigh. “No, it’s okay. Oakley’s a big boy. If he doesn’t
graduate again, it’s on him.”
Her words might’ve been convincing if it wasn’t for the distraught look in
her eyes.
Reaching over, I grab her hand. “He’ll be okay.”
“What if he’s not?”
“Then we’ll keep trying to figure out a way to make sure he is.”
Giving my hand a squeeze, she smiles. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Being you.”
She doesn’t have to thank me for being a friend.
“Jace is…” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Let’s just say he’s not as
supportive as you are when it comes to Oakley’s problems. He’s really angry
with him.”
That doesn’t surprise me. Not only is Jace a straight edge like me and
Dylan, he doesn’t have a high tolerance for bullshit.
Something Oakley brings a lot of.
The two of them being close friends always struck me as strange. Oakley
has way more in common with a certain asshole who shall not be named.
The one who drinks like a fish and parties like the world is ending every
weekend.
As if on cue, I spot the evil queen and her knight in shining armor. Or as I
like to call him—her cocky dipshit in tin foil—standing on a makeshift stage
along with the rest of the homecoming nominees.
As if everyone doesn’t already know who the King and Queen of RHA
are.
Rolling my eyes, I turn my attention back to my friend. “I can’t be the
only one who thinks this is ridiculous.”
“I know. Usually sophomores don’t get nominated for homecoming
princess.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about. “Huh?”
“According to Bianca, the homecoming princess is supposed to be a
junior, and the one” —she makes air quotes— “’the queen’ anoints to take
her place after she leaves. Sophomores are usually duchesses or some crap,
but apparently Casey threw a fit and fought for Bianca to be on the ballot for
it.”
It’s only then I notice Bianca standing on the other side of Casey. “Damn.
You’re more in the know than I am, and you don’t even go here anymore.”
This time, Dylan rolls her eyes. “Trust me, I don’t want to be, but Bianca
came over last Friday.” Her lip curls. “And then invited herself to spend the
night.”
Wow. To be a fly on the wall during that sleepover.
At first, Dylan tried to be understanding of Bianca’s hatred toward her
and gave her time to come around, but six months later she’s reaching the end
of her fuse.
“Judging by the murderous look in your eyes, I’m guessing it went really
well.”
The murderous eyes in question narrow. “Every time Jace tried to kiss
me, Bianca would make a noise, knock over her glass of water, drop
something, or sneeze obnoxiously.”
“As far as Bianca goes, that’s not so bad.”
She holds up a finger. “That was only the start.” She turns to me. “You
know how gory movies really freak me out?”
I nod in understanding. Truth be told, I find it hysterical how she covers
her eyes and ducks her head like a five-year-old at the first sign of blood
splatter.
“Bianca insisted on having a Saw movie marathon,” she continues. “I
figured I’d be fine because I could just hide behind Jace during the gross
parts, but nope. She stole him.”
“What do you mean she stole him?”
“I mean she literally hijacked Jace and used him as her shield.”
A laugh flies out of my mouth. “Wow.”
Annoyed, she huffs. “Right? And it’s not like I could complain because
she’s his little sister. Although…” Her expression fills with disgust. “Never
mind, it’s super weird and I’m probably overreacting.”
Dammit, she can’t do that to me.
“Come on, Dylan. You can’t leave a girl hanging like that. It’s in the best
friend handbook. If you have good gossip or a conspiracy theory, you have to
share it.”
“Fine.” She shudders. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Duly noted. Now spill.”
Picking up her cup of hot chocolate, she takes a lengthy sip. “She walked
in on us while we were in bed.”
“Oh, God. Don’t tell me she wanted to sleep between you two like a little
kid because she was scared.”
Her expression sours. “I wish.”
When my eyebrows shoot up, she whispers, “She walked in while Jace
was going down on me and we were about to have sex.”
My mouth drops open. “Oh.”
“We thought she was asleep in the spare bedroom.”
“That’s…why would she do that?”
She shrugs. “I have no idea. After we scrambled to cover up, Jace asked
her why she didn’t knock. She claimed she did, but he was so busy he didn’t
hear her. Then she said she was feeling sick because of the dinner I made and
Jace needed to take her to the hospital for food poisoning.” She punctuates
the air with her finger. “For the record, there was nothing wrong with my
spaghetti.”
I believe her. “You make awesome spaghetti.”
She chews on her bottom lip. “I do, dammit.” Her voice lowers a fraction.
“The thing is, I distinctly remember locking the door when we turned in for
the night because I was…well, you know.”
“Feeling frisky.”
Her lips twitch. “Yeah, Grandma. Or as us crazy kids call it these days,
horny.” I start to laugh, but her face turns serious. “I swear the brat picked the
lock and specifically chose the moment I was about to come to barge in.”
Blowing out a breath, she closes her eyes. “But that’s not the worst of it.”
My stomach sinks. What else could the girl have done?
Dylan swallows hard, looking all kinds of uncomfortable. “The next
morning, after she made Jace stay up with her half the night for her fake food
poisoning, we woke up to find her making breakfast for us.”
“Oh. Well, that’s not bad.”
“Actually, it was pretty terrible. However, it’s what she was wearing
while prancing around my kitchen and cooking for my man that really ticked
me the fuck off.”
“What was she wearing?”
“Remember our Victoria’s Secret trip with Oakley?”
How could I forget? Oakley leading us through racks of bras and panties
and telling us what guys liked while flirting with all the workers and trying to
guess the bra size of every girl we passed…was memorable.
“Yeah.”
“She was wearing the silky blue teddy I bought.”
Holy shit. “Whoa…that’s…”
“Fucking weird.” Her nails dig into the Styrofoam. “When I asked her
why the hell she was wearing that, she said she found it hanging up in the
laundry room and didn’t think I’d mind because she puked all over her
pajamas and Jace told her to borrow something of mine.”
“Why would Jace lend—”
“He didn’t,” she snaps. “He said he gave her one of my old concert t-
shirts and a pair of sweatpants.” Her brows furrow. “Ever since that night,
I’ve been wracking my brain trying to come up with a logical, non-creepy
explanation for her behavior.” She looks at me. “If anyone can make sense
out of this and talk me off the ledge before I cut a crazy bitch, it’s you.”
Yeah, I’ve got nothing.
“Come on, Sawyer. I need you to tell me I’m overreacting, and my
boyfriend’s sister isn’t trying to steal my boyfriend.”
I can’t, because best friends don’t lie to each other.
“Well,” I say slowly, searching for a ray of light in this mess. “How did
Jace react to all this?”
What Bianca is doing is disturbing enough, but it would be a whole lot
more disturbing if Jace was…reciprocating.
She thinks about this for a moment before she answers. “He didn’t seem
to catch on to what she was doing during the horror movie. But he was
definitely annoyed when she walked in on us, and he looked completely
grossed out the next morning when he saw her. In fact, after he dropped her
off and came back, he told me I had to either burn my teddy or torch his
eyeballs if I ever wanted his dick again.”
Lovely. On the bright side, she has nothing to worry about on Jace’s end.
“That’s good.” A thought occurs to me. “Unless...”
“Unless?” she squeaks. “No unless…what’s unless?”
Dylan’s a smart girl, I’m surprised it didn’t occur to her. “I’m pretty
positive Bianca doesn’t want Jace. I think she’s doing this to screw with your
head so you’ll break up with him.”
She’s also clearly trying to assert her dominance because she feels
threatened now that she’s not the only female in her brother’s life, but that’s
another issue entirely.
Dylan chews on her thumbnail, pondering my statement. “I can’t believe
she thinks doing something like that would work.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to point out that it is working since she’s so
riled up about it, but I go with something more constructive instead.
“She’s trying to plant creepy seeds that will end up putting Jace in the
awkward position of having to choose between you and his baby sister. But
you’re right, it won’t work. You guys are rock solid.”
“It still doesn’t change the fact that it’s a really fucked up thing for her to
do.”
I stifle the urge to remind her that the Covington siblings are the epitome
of fucked up.
“I’m not saying it’s right, but she’s probably jealous Jace left. Co—the
asshole who shall not be named—isn’t exactly brother of the year, and from
what you’ve told me, their father is a piece of shit and barely acknowledges
them. Jace is the only stable person in her life. Heck, he’s basically her father
figure. Him leaving undoubtedly feels like losing a parent and a sibling all
over again.”
“Shit. When you put it like that, I feel kind of bad for Bianca.” Her face
falls. “I’m not trying to take Jace away from her. I’d never—”
“I know that and Jace knows that. Eventually Bianca will too, and she’ll
stop trying to sabotage your relationship. For now, just hang in there and hide
your underwear.”
She smiles. “Thank you. I feel like I just had the world’s best therapy
session.”
“I’ll send you my bill in the mail.”
We both look up at the same time an administrator declares Bianca the
homecoming princess and tries to place a small crown on her head.
Shooting her an irritated glare, Bianca dismisses her and puts the crown
on herself.
Dylan looks around. “Jace said he went to talk to Cole, but Cole’s been
up there for a while. He should have been back by now.”
“Maybe he’s down there taking pictures?”
“Doubtful.” Looking at her phone, she mutters a curse. “Col—sorry, thou
who shall not be named—and Jace got into an argument and he’s been sitting
in the car.” She pops a quick kiss on my cheek. “You okay if I leave?”
I wave a hand. “Of course. In fact, I should get going too. Elijah needs to
leave work early, so I told him I’d come in and close for him—”
And I’m talking to myself, because Dylan’s already trudging down the
stairs.
I’m happy for her and all, but there’s a small part of me that resents Jace.
Not only is he her boyfriend, he was her best friend long before I was.
Which means he’ll always come first.
And there’s a small nagging voice in my head taunting me that I’m never
going to know what it feels like to be someone’s first priority.
People around me stand up and clap and I glance at the stage just in time
to see the homecoming king and his queen get crowned.
They look so perfect together. Like something out of a fairy tale.
I hate that deep down—below all my layers of fat, false confidence, and
self-pity—I’d give almost anything to know what it feels like to be pretty and
thin like Casey and to have Cole Covington look at me like I’m the most
beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.
But I know it will never happen, because all he sees—all most people see
when they look at me—is a fat virgin who loves Jesus.
And girls like that don’t get the fairy tale.
Chapter 5
COLE
I ’m ten minutes late by the time I walk into Cluck You, and Mr.
Gonzales is not happy.
I’m in the back tying my apron on when he approaches me.
“You late,” he states in broken English.
His dark furry eyebrows are pinched together, and his lips are so tight
they’re turning white around the edges.
Oh, boy.
Considering I’ve been working here for almost two years and I’ve never
been late before-—not to mention I’m covering for a coworker—you’d think
he’d cut me a little slack.
However, now is not the time to bring that up, so I do the mature thing
and offer up an apology followed by an explanation. “I know. I’m sorry. I
was at the homecoming game and after it ended, I realized I forgot my
textbook—”
He cuts me off with a long-winded sigh.
Oh, boy. Here we go.
“Desde que era un niño pequeño. Soñé con abrir un restaurante. Pasé todo
mi tiempo perfeccionando el pollo perfecto.” He holds up his hands
histrionically. “Trabajé sobre la estufa día tras día. Sufrió quemaduras de
tercer grado. Algunos días mi piel se despegaba de mis dedos y lloraba
mientras cocinaba. Solo para tener la oportunidad de hacer algo de mí mismo
y mantener a mi familia. Y ahora llegas a mi restaurante diez minutos y
veinticuatro segundos tarde.” He stomps his foot. “¿Estás tratando de
destruirme? ¿Mi familia? ¿Mi pollo?”
Good Lord.
Long story short, my boss worked his butt off perfecting his chicken
recipe—even suffering third-degree burns in the process. He came to
America with a goal of opening a restaurant to provide for his family.
However, according to him, my tardiness is putting his business, his family,
and most importantly, his chicken in jeopardy.
While I respect his hard work and determination, the man sure has a flair
for the dramatic.
I shake my head, hoping to put his fears to rest. “No—”
Before I can finish my second apology, Stone waltzes over to us. “Relax.
Sawyer’s never late.”
Rumor has it Stone was hired as a dishwasher because Mr. Gonzales was
a close friend of his dad’s and he wants him to stay out of trouble.
He’s only been here a short time—given he’s sixteen—but he works his
ass off, and I have no complaints about the guy.
Well, except one.
He’s Tommy DaSilva’s younger brother.
Awkward.
I have to constantly remind myself that Tommy and Stone aren’t the same
person and judging him for the terrible things his brother did to the
Covington family would be wrong.
Visibly irritated, Mr. Gonzales waves a hand in my direction. “Ponte a
trabajar.” He looks at Stone. “Both of you.”
I shoot Stone an appreciative smile before I get back to work.
I t was busier than usual tonight, and by the time I have a second to
breathe it’s after ten and my shift is over.
I don’t even attempt to stifle my yawns.
“Tired, huh?” Luis, the second waiter on shift tonight comments as we
bring the last of the dishes to the back.
Not only is Luis a sweetheart, he’s in college studying to be an engineer,
so he understands my pain when it comes to balancing school and work.
He also doesn’t come from money and works hard for everything he has.
“Exhausted,” I admit. “I have to turn in my admissions essay for Duke’s
Heart in two weeks, and I still haven’t started it.”
He lets out a long whistle. “You shouldn’t put that off until last minute,
ma.”
He’s right.
It might not be a big deal to most students, but when you’re poor and
need a full ride more than your next heartbeat—it’s a huge deal.
Not to mention, turning it in before the deadline gives you an advantage
and makes it appear like you took it seriously.
I walk over to the sink when I notice Stone’s up to his eyeballs with
dishes and give him a hand.
“I was going to tackle it tomorrow, but I promised—” I catch myself
before Dylan’s name slips out.
Stone knows she’s my best friend, but it makes things weird between us
whenever I bring her up.
Not only is she dating Jace Covington, but Tommy was legit obsessed
with her last year. The dumbass even went so far as to try to force her to have
sex with him at a deserted marina.
Luckily, Dylan is stronger than she looks, and she kicked him in the balls
before anything bad could happen.
“I agreed to tutor my friend’s cousin,” I settle on.
Luis stops what he’s doing. “Hope he’s paying you.”
“He’s not, but—”
Luis cringes. “There’s a reason they tell you to put your life vest on
before assisting others. You have to focus on yourself, ma. You’re already
burnt out. Stop adding more to the pile.”
He’s right. Most nights I average three hours of sleep…if I’m lucky.
But I’m not turning my back on Oakley and I refuse to give up Bible
study and choir. I also need a job, therefore quitting Cluck You is out of the
question.
So is giving up my own study time.
I have no choice but to find a way to make it work.
Stone—who’s been awfully silent—speaks. “You should start drinking
coffee.”
I try not to laugh. “Too late. I already have a cup before school and a cup
after school.”
In the beginning it helped, but a year later…not so much.
He thinks about this for a second. “Damn. In that case, upgrade to energy
drinks.”
“Or Adderall,” Luis cuts in.
Confused, I turn to look at him. “Adderall? Isn’t that for people with
ADHD?”
Focusing isn’t my problem. Lack of time is.
“Yeah, but it gives you mad energy and helps you concentrate. Plenty of
people on my campus take it to help them study.”
That’s…unnerving. “How? Don’t they need a prescription from a
doctor?”
“They’re not getting it from their doctor,” Stone informs me.
Luis and Stone exchange a glance before Luis adds, “They get it from
their street pharmacist.”
It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes. “Drug dealers.”
Luis shrugs sheepishly. “Pretty much.”
Stone reaches for a towel. “Not worth it. That shit is basically legal
speed.”
“Yeah, but it works,” Luis chimes in before looking at me. “As long as
you don’t take it all the time.”
Hold the phone. “You take it?”
I’ll admit I’m surprised. Luis is the last person I’d ever suspect of using
drugs.
“Nah. Not on the regular.” Grinning, he plucks his shirt. “I’m already
skinny and that shit makes you lose weight like crazy. First week I tried it I
dropped five pounds, so I sold the rest of the pills to my cousin.” He laughs.
“But I studied like a motherfucker and passed all my tests with flying colors,
so there’s that.”
“Oh.” I’m at a loss for words as I walk over to the clock and punch out. “I
have to get home and study for my history test. See you tomorrow.”
Chapter 8
SAWYER
Dylan: Here’s Bianca’s number. Jace said she’s at cheer practice right now,
but if she refuses to tell you where your stuff is, let him know and he’ll get it
out of her.
Sawyer: You’re the best, but I’m pretty sure it won’t come to that.
Sawyer: Hey Bianca, it’s Sawyer. I’d really appreciate it if you could tell me
where my stuff is. I have work in an hour and if I’m late again, my boss will
fire me.
Bianca: Sawyer who?
Seriously?
Of course it is. Heaven forbid the girl does something for the sake of
being nice.
Shit on a stick.
What she’s asking doesn’t make any sense. She’s a cheerleader and a
member of Casey’s squad. Showing up with me would be social suicide.
Sawyer: Fine, but what makes you think going with me will change Jace or
Cole’s mind about you going to the party?
Bianca: You’re kidding, right? You’re pretty much the equivalent of a saint
and Jace trusts you. Going with you is the only shot I have of going at all.
It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes, but I have more important things to
focus on.
Awesome sauce.
Before I can tell her no, my phone lights up with another text.
Bianca: You’re shit out of luck. My favor quota for you has already reached
its limit for the century.
Brat.
Sawyer: Please, Bianca. I can’t afford to lose my job. I know you don’t
understand because you eat off gold platters every night and bathe in
diamonds and caviar, but some people don’t have it so easy.
Bianca: Whoa. Passive aggressive and bitchy.
I want to ask her if that means she’ll help me, but I get her follow up text.
Surprise, surprise.
This has bad idea written all over it, but desperate times call for desperate
measures.
Mere seconds after I press the send button the ear-piercing sound of the
fire alarm blaring infiltrates my eardrums and my phone lights up with
another text.
Bianca: You owe me two favors now.
Chapter 11
B ianca’s been dancing with Hayley, and Oakley’s been off doing
God knows what with Morgan for the last hour...which means
I’ve been wandering around aimlessly.
It’s eerie how you can be in a house full of people and feel so alone.
Like you don’t belong.
Wanting some fresh air, I slip out to the patio and dial Dylan’s number
for the second time tonight. Just like the first time, it goes straight to
voicemail.
In all fairness, she did tell me her midterms were this week and she’s
picking up extra shifts at the bakery.
It just sucks when you’re sad and the one person in the world who really
gets you is busy living her life.
If I was smart, I’d go home and start my admissions essay. The cut off is
next week and if I’m not careful, I’m going to blow my chance.
Would that be such a bad thing?
For the last seventeen years, I’ve been dependable, reliable…and
predictable.
Failing to submit my essay on time would certainly be a change of pace.
Not to mention…stupid.
I’ve wanted to go to Duke’s Heart for as long as I can remember. I’m not
going to ruin my shot because I’m feeling sorry for myself.
That’s not who I am.
I need to pull on my big girl panties and tackle this.
I need to stop being scared of the unknown.
If they don’t accept me, it’s their loss.
Panic lodges in my throat. Oh, God. What if they don’t accept me?
Or worse? What if they do accept me, but don’t offer me a scholarship
and free housing?
They accepted Dylan—and technically, her grades were worse than mine
since she ended up with a B+ in social studies—but that was last year.
Things change.
Stop it, Sawyer.
There are people in the world who have no food, no place to live, and no
family—in other words, real world problems—and I’m acting like my life
will be over if I don’t get to go to my dream college on a free ride.
Like my father always tells me—entitlement is laziness wrapped up in
selfishness. If you really want something, you have to work for it. Earn it.
And if you start losing faith…pray for it, because God will provide.
He may not give you exactly what you want, but he’ll always give you
what you need.
Including the strength to weather the storm.
Even if that storm comes in the form of a six-foot-three, obnoxious,
selfish asshole named Cole Covington.
Ripples of hurt laced with tiny bolts of rage tangle in my chest as I watch
him in the hot tub.
His eyes are closed as he rests his head on the ledge, and for once he’s all
alone.
To most people, he would look like the epitome of calm and peaceful.
However, I can’t help but notice the way his chest rises above the water
every few seconds before sinking back down.
Like he’s running out of breath. Trying not to drown.
I guess we both have that in common.
No—I remind myself. We have nothing in common.
Unlike me, Cole intentionally hurts and uses people.
I turn, intending to head back inside so I can tell Bianca I want to go
home.
“Get over here, Bible Thumper.”
I freeze at the sound of his voice.
“Please,” he says after another minute passes.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I spin back around. “Why?”
Did you make another stupid bet with your friends?
“Oh, come on, sweetness. I don’t bite.” Angling his head toward me, he
gives me a lopsided smirk. “Unless you want me to.”
No, no, no. He doesn’t get to flirt with me like the bet he made with
Cortland never happened.
Like he didn’t call me fat in front of the entire school.
Like he didn’t make me cry because I can’t fix him.
I’m marching the fifteen feet it takes to tell him off to his face when it
suddenly occurs to me that Cole doesn’t know I know about the bet.
Chapter 14
COLE
Past…
“M om,” I say for what must be the hundredth time in the last
five minutes.
Ignoring me and the paper I’m trying to show her, she
continues furiously cleaning the house.
She must be feeling better today.
Last week she was in bed for four days while our dad was away on a
work trip. Jace had to feed us and do the laundry.
He claimed she was sick, but she didn’t sound sick.
She sounded sad.
As usual, my older brother was trying to protect us from the truth.
Something was wrong with our mom, but it wasn’t something you could
see.
Just like a secret superpower, it was invisible.
Only instead of making her strong and powerful…it made her weak and
fragile.
I’m pretty sure it also made her hate me.
It never made her hate Liam though.
“Mom.” Feeling frustrated, I shove the paper into her hand. “Can I do
this? Please?”
Finally, she looks at it.
I’ve never been good at anything. Unlike my siblings, I don’t get good
grades and I have a hard time staying interested in stuff for very long.
But the day Jace threw me a football and I caught it—it was like
something inside me clicked into place.
I was meant to do this. It was in my blood. My soul.
And when I saw the poster at my school for peewee football, I knew it
was fate.
She has to say yes.
“No.” She screws up her pretty face. “Football is dangerous, and I don’t
have time to take you to practice.”
I wanted to argue that if she spent less time lying in bed, she would, but I
already had it covered.
“You don’t have to. Jace said he would take me.”
There. She couldn’t say no.
“It’s dangerous.”
“I’ll be safe. I’ll wear all the equipment and everything. Promise.”
I can tell she wants to cave. She just needs a little push.
I give her my best puppy eyes. “Please, Mom. I really want to play.”
“Play what?”
Liam. Leave it up to him to swoop in just when I was making some
progress.
He and Bianca usually sleep in whenever they get the chance, so I figured
morning would be the perfect time to approach her.
Guess I was wrong.
“None of your business,” I snarl before turning my attention back to
Mom. “Please.”
“I don’t know.” She looks at Liam. “Do you want to play football with
your brother?”
My stomach fills with lead. This can’t be happening. My future with
football shouldn’t rest on his shoulders.
“No—” Liam starts to say at the same time I yell, “Come on, Mom.
We’re not five. We don’t always have to do the same things.” I glare at my
brother. “Besides, everyone knows Liam sucks at sports.”
Just the other day, Ben Phillips whacked him in the face with a dodgeball
and made Liam cry in front of everyone.
Not that I was surprised. The wuss was always crying about something or
someone.
Namely me.
“That’s not true,” Liam whines, his lower lip trembling.
Case in point.
“How many times do I have to tell you to stop making fun of your
brother?” my mother scolds as he runs into her open arms.
“Yeah, Colton,” Liam sniffles, nuzzling his head against her chest.
He’s the only one who ever calls me by my real name, and I hate it.
Which is exactly why he continues doing it.
“Shut up, you big baby.”
Twin or not, I can’t stand him.
Every day I wake up wanting to bash his face in for existing.
For being everything I’m not.
Ever since the womb, he’s been stealing my thunder.
According to our mom, our parents didn’t even know we were twins until
a few weeks before we were born.
Apparently, Liam had been blocking me during the ultrasound visits.
No surprise there.
It wasn’t until my mom insisted something was wrong, due to her gaining
so much weight and being so tired she could barely stand, that they finally
found me.
Behind Liam.
Too bad I didn’t eat him.
If I had, I wouldn’t have been subjected to the Liam show from the
moment I took my first breath.
Approximately two minutes and twelve seconds after he did. Go freaking
figure.
Like always—he took center stage.
Liam was the one my mother wanted.
The twin she knew about.
The one she was excited to have.
And she’s not the only one. Everyone in our family acts like he’s some
kind of saint who poops rainbows and sunshine.
But he’s not.
I see the real Liam for everything he is…or rather, everything he isn’t.
“Cole.”
I knew that tone. It was a warning my mom was reaching the end of her
fuse. I had to act quickly.
“Please, Mom. I’ll do anything.”
She runs her fingers through Liam’s hair. “How did you do on your math
test last week?”
Panic lodges in my throat and my palms grow sweaty. I flunked.
But she doesn’t have to know that yet. I can spill the beans after she signs
me up.
“I don’t know,” I say, giving Liam a death glare. “Mrs. Myer hasn’t
graded them yet.”
Her lips twist. She’s contemplating.
I meet Liam’s eyes. I loathe him, but there’s no denying this weird twin
connection we have.
He better keep his mouth shut.
I didn’t have to tell him how much I loved football for him to know it’s
true.
I need this. I telepathically communicated, hoping he’ll understand.
I was dying inside. Little by little with every passing day.
However, with a ball in my hand…life wasn’t so bad.
It was the one and only time I was free to be myself.
The one and only thing Liam couldn’t take away from me.
“Yes, she did,” Liam tattles and it takes everything in me not to throttle
him.
My mom places her hands on her hips. “Why did you lie to me, Cole?”
Another lie is prepared to roll off my tongue, but it’s too late.
“Because he failed,” Liam tells her.
I swear I see a hint of a smirk on his stupid face.
“It was a really hard test,” I exclaim.
She huffs. “Did you study?”
No. “Yes.”
“Liar,” Liam whispers under his breath.
She looks down at him. “What did you get on the test?”
“One-hundred.” He beams. “Plus, five bonus points for getting the extra
credit question right.”
Of course he did. Loser.
Her gaze swings back to me. “Liam got an A-plus. There’s no reason you
shouldn’t have gotten an A, too.”
That’s like comparing apples and oranges. Liam and the rest of my
siblings have giant supersonic brains, whereas I only have a regular one.
Besides, half the class failed that test. She was a bad teacher.
“But, Mo—”
“No, I don’t want to hear it. I’m not letting you join football when you’re
failing tests, Cole. You need to use the extra time you’d waste playing
football to study and get your grades up.” Disappointment swirls in her
brown eyes. “Maybe if you were more like your brother—”
Rage simmering under the surface erupts like a volcano.
“I don’t want to be like Liam.” I give him a look that I hope conveys
exactly how I feel about him. “I hate him. I wish he was never born.”
“Why is everyone yelling?” Bianca questions as she walks out into the
living room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
Great. My mother’s other favorite child. Bianca wasn’t just the only girl;
she was also the baby of the family and Mom’s little spoiled princess.
“You were supposed to be up twenty minutes ago,” my mother tells her.
“Sorry.” Her face perks up. “We’re still getting my ballerina slippers
though, right?” Without waiting for an answer, she adds, “I need the same
exact ones Julianna got. There’s a store at the mall—”
“Yes, baby girl. I know.” Smiling, Mom snaps her fingers. “Now go get
ready so we can leave.”
Grinning from ear to ear, she runs off.
No way in hell is this fair.
“You’re letting her join ballet, but I can’t join football?”
Jace walks into the room at that moment.
“She won’t let me join,” I snap, glaring between him and our mother.
He has to fix this. He was the one who put a football in my hand to begin
with.
Plus, he’s probably the only person who can get her to change her mind.
He’s only a year older than me, but it was becoming apparent mom
expected him to take care of us whenever she was sad.
Things were so bad, Jace was starting to feel more like my father than my
actual father.
He opens his mouth, but closes it when she says, “Unlike you, Bianca
isn’t failing any of her tests.”
Jace raises his hands. “Sorry, man. I’m not arguing with that.”
Of course not. But if I was Liam, he’d have no problem sticking his neck
out.
“This isn’t fair.”
She gives me a pointed look. “Life isn’t fair.”
Not one to give up, I say, “Today is the last day to sign up. We can stop
there on the way to the mall for Bianca’s dumb shoes. It will only take a
second.”
Pinching the bridge of her nose, she sighs. “No.” Her face softens. “Show
me you can do better in school first and we’ll talk about it, okay?”
She doesn’t understand. Even if they’d allow me to join late, I’d be too
far behind. Everyone on the team will have made friends, gotten their
numbers, and been assigned their positions.
I don’t want to feel like I don’t belong and have people make fun of me.
I’m not Liam.
“It will be too late by then.”
She looks up at the ceiling. “The answer is no.”
Desperate, I say the one thing I know will upset her. “Fine. I’ll call Dad
and ask him.”
Anger mixed with hurt flashes in her eyes. “Yeah, well, good luck getting
ahold of him.”
She walks out of the room, dismissing me without another glance.
But this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
I was tired of her comparing me to Liam.
Tired of feeling like I’d never measure up.
Tired of her hurting me.
No matter how much I loved her and wanted her to notice me—she
couldn’t love me back. I felt it in my bones.
Kids always know when they’re unwanted.
I follow behind her. “He probably doesn’t pick up the phone for you
because he doesn’t like you.”
Jace is hot on my heels as I follow her into the kitchen. “Stop it, Cole.”
No. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.
Football was my escape. My one chance to be the best at something and
she was taking it away.
“All you do is sleep all day. You don’t even take care of us anymore,” I
scream. “I hate you. You’re the worst mom in the whole entire world!”
“No, she’s not!” Liam yells.
“Cole!” Jace snaps.
Paying no mind to my outburst, she looks at Liam. “Want to go to the
mall with Bianca and me?”
His face lights up. “Sure.”
I hate him. I hate them.
“Mom,” I plead, my voice cracking. “Please.”
She ruffles Liam’s hair. “Maybe we can pick up that new comic book
you’ve been talking about.”
Now she’s just being a jerk and pouring salt in the wound.
I try to snatch her car keys off the kitchen counter, but she’s too quick.
“Stop, before I ground you.”
“Go ahead.”
She’s already ruined my life. She might as well banish me to my room.
At least then I won’t have to see or talk to Liam. Or her.
“Why is Cole crying?” Bianca questions, and it’s only then I realize
there’s wet stuff dripping down my face.
“Mom won’t let him join the football team because he failed his last test,”
Liam unhelpfully supplies.
Bianca scrunches her nose. “That sucks.”
I rub my tears away with the back of my sleeve. “I hate you.”
If my mother felt anything from my statement, she doesn’t show it.
Grabbing her purse, she looks at Jace. “Watch your brother while I’m
gone.”
I flinch when the front door slams behind her.
It’s over. I lost.
Jace puts a hand on my shoulder. “I bet if you do well on your next test,
she’ll reconsider.”
“The last day to sign up is today.”
He mulls this over for a second. “Once they see how good you are,
they’re going to want you on their team.”
“What makes you so sure?”
He mock-punches my arm. “This arm of yours.”
“Whatever.”
I wasn’t done feeling sorry for myself because there was no guarantee
they’d let me sign up late.
“How about we make a deal?”
“What kind of deal?”
“I’ll help you study for your next test, if you promise to ease up on Mom
a little.”
I roll my eyes. “Sure. Take her side.”
“She’s going through a lot, Cole.”
“She’s ruining my life.”
He grabs some juice from the fridge. “No, she’s not. She just wants
what’s best for you.”
“What’s best for me is football.”
“Well, you need to prove that by passing your next test. Show her how
much you want it and how hard you’re willing to work for it.”
I don’t want it…I need it.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right.”
When she gets home, I’ll apologize for what I said and take Jace up on
his offer to study.
I’ll study so hard I’ll get a better grade than Liam. Then she’ll have no
choice but to let me play.
And then when she sees how good I am on the field—how much better I
am than Liam is out there—maybe she’ll finally love me more.
He slides a glass of juice across the counter. “Of course I’m right. Now
drink up so we can throw the ball around for a little while.”
As usual, Jace had a way of pulling me out of a funk and cheering me up.
Truth be told, I often found myself wishing he was my only brother.
My life would be so much better.
J ace flaps his hand like he got stung by a bee. “Damn, boy. Keep
that up and I’m gonna have to start wearing a mitt.” Holding the
ball, he backs up a few more feet. “Think you can throw it to
me when I’m standing this far away?”
Running over to where he’s standing, I seize the ball from him. “I don’t
think I can. I know I can.”
Quick as lightning, I run across the yard.
Jace told me running builds stamina and I’m going to need a lot of it if I
want to be a quarterback.
If that’s the case, I’m gonna ask Mom if I can start running to school.
Getting a firm grip on the ball, I bring my arm back and focus on my
target.
I’m about to launch it, but a sharp pain infiltrates my chest.
My breath leaves me in one big rush as the pressure grows and I drop to
my knees.
Jace runs to my side. “What’s wrong?”
Liam.
That stupid twin thing we have.
I clutch my heart, sweat dripping down my face. “It hurts.”
“I’m gonna call an ambulance.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Don’t.”
“Are you crazy? Something’s wrong.”
“It’s not me.”
He regards me like I’m crazy. “What?”
“Call Mom,” I croak out. “Make sure Liam’s okay.”
“Liam? That doesn’t ma—”
“Just do it,” I bark.
Come on, Liam. Man up and stop acting like a baby all the time.
He fishes his cell out of his pocket and brings it to his ear. “She’s not
answering.”
I force myself to stand. “It’s fine.”
Jace’s eyebrows pinch together. “What?”
I wipe at the grass stains on my jeans. “I said it’s fine.” I pick the ball
back up. “Let’s play.”
I’m not going to let Liam’s issues get in the way of football.
He gets in the way of enough.
His mouth drops. “Seriously? I thought you were having a heart attack.”
That gets a laugh out of me. “Young people don’t have heart attacks,
dummy.” I give him the ball. “You throw it this time. See if I can catch it.”
“I don’t think that’s a good id—”
The sound of his phone ringing cuts him off.
Must be Mom.
“Hey, Dad,” Jace bites out.
Or not.
Something’s changed between them the last few weeks. They used to be
close, but nowadays, it’s almost like Jace despises him.
Then again, he’s probably feeling snubbed like the rest of us due to Dad
working all the time.
“Wait…what? When?”
I can’t hear what my dad is saying…but whatever it is can’t be good
because Jace drops the phone.
“What happened?”
“Mrs—” He swallows and tries again. “Mrs. Garcia.”
I don’t understand why he’s so distraught about our neighbor.
“Did she die?”
He shakes his head. “No. She’s coming over.” He looks like someone
sucker-punched him in the gut. “Dad’s on his way to the hospital.”
That feeling in my chest is back with a vengeance.
“Is he okay?”
“I don’t…I don’t know.” He looks down at the grass. “I don’t know
anything.”
“What do you mean you don’t know anything? You just spoke to Dad.
What did he say?”
He’s so out of it, it takes him a full minute to answer.
“He said there was an accident. Mom’s car went off the side of the road.”
He buries his head in his hands. “That’s all he would tell me.”
That can’t be right.
“What does that mean? They’re okay, right?”
“I don’t know!” he screams. “I don’t know.”
It’s like it’s the only sentence in his vocabulary.
“They’re okay,” I whisper, more for my benefit than his.
Mom once told me if you put positive thoughts into the universe, they’ll
become true. “They have to be.”
“Yeah.” Appearing to gather his composure, he inhales sharply. “You’re
right. Everything will be fine.”
But it wasn’t.
It never would be again.
Because two hours later, we found out Liam and Bianca were in
emergency surgery…
And our mother was dead.
Chapter 17
SAWYER
I t’s been almost nine hours since Sawyer told me she’d think
about being my fake girlfriend.
Surely, she’s made up her mind by now.
I stare at my phone, debating whether or not to text her.
Seriously. What the fuck is there to think about? She scratches my back
and I scratch hers. It’s the perfect solution.
“Cole?” Jace cuts in, interrupting my thoughts. “A little help here.”
I look up from my plate of uneaten scrambled eggs. “Huh?”
He’s currently reading Bianca the riot act. I tuned out somewhere
between fake food poisoning and stealing Dylan’s nightgown.
“Tell Bianca how great Dylan is.”
Shrugging, I look at my little sister. “She’s okay.”
It’s the best I can do. We’re not particularly close, but I know she loves
Jace and Jace loves the fuck out of her.
That’s good enough for me.
Jace opens his mouth, but much to his dismay, it’s Oakley who comes to
Dylan’s defense.
“Dylan’s the shit—” he starts to say before Jace cuts him off.
“She makes me happy, Bianca. Don’t you want me to be happy?”
Keeping her expression impassive, Bianca plucks an apple from the fruit
bowl. “Are you sure? Because you don’t seem very happy right now.”
Jace looks like he’s about to have a coronary. “I’m not happy because
you keep trying to drive a wedge between us and won’t give my girlfriend a
chance.”
Bianca thinks about this for a minute before replying, “Only because your
girlfriend is a giant murderous cunt.”
Yup. I saw that response coming from a mile away. I’m pretty sure
Bianca will always blame Dylan for Liam’s death.
I ignore the way the proverbial knife twists in my gut.
Rising from the table, Jace sighs. “You need to stop. I can’t take much
more of this.”
She frowns. “Well, if she’s causing you this much stress, you should
probably get rid of her.”
“I’m not getting rid of Dylan—” Jace starts to shout before Oakley takes
over.
“Cut the shit, B.” He takes a big swig of his orange juice. “Dylan’s my
fam, and I’m not gonna sit here and let you keep taking jabs at her. You have
a problem with her, you have a problem with me.” He narrows his eyes.
“Capice?”
Glaring at him, she takes a giant bite of her apple and chews. “Wow,
someone’s awfully salty about last night.”
Awkward.
Oakley’s jaw tics. “You just had to bring that up.”
Jace looks between them. “What happened last night?”
They both clamp their mouths shut.
He’s bound to hear about it sooner or later. Here goes nothing.
“Bianca made out with Hayley.”
“Hayley?” Stunned, Jace turns to Oak. “Your ex-girlfriend Hayley?”
He sulks. “Yup.”
Jace looks at me next. “You let her make-out with a girl at a party?”
Frankly, I’m not sure what the big deal is. I, for one, am a huge supporter
of her newfound lesbianism.
If Bianca’s gay, it means she won’t want to mess around with any guys…
ergo less stress for her big brothers.
Besides, what does he want me to do? Lock her up in the basement?
Forbid her to have any contact with the human race?
I open my mouth to speak, but Bianca beats me to it.
“In Cole’s defense, he told me not to hook up with any guys. He never
said anything about girls, though.” Smirking, she adds, “Plus, it’s not like he
was there. He was too busy hanging out with his new girlfriend, Sawyer.”
On second thought, maybe locking her up in the basement isn’t such a
bad idea after all. There would be way less shit for her to stir up from down
there.
I can tell the exact moment he processes what she said because the little
vein in his forehead makes an appearance. “Sawyer? As in Dylan’s best
friend, Sawyer?”
“Do you know any other Sawyers?”
“I told you to stay away from her.”
“You also told me not to fuck Mrs. Bennett, but she ended up giving me
an A in history.”
“Holy shit. You fucked Cortland’s mom?” Bianca exclaims.
We both ignore her.
“Look,” Jace starts. “Dylan doesn’t want you hanging around Sawyer.
Not after what you did to her.”
“I’m sorry, last I checked, I’m a big boy and Dylan doesn’t get to make
decisions for me.”
“Yeah,” Bianca cheers.
Jace’s gaze swings her way. “Go upstairs.”
“Whatever.” She fixes her stare on Oakley. “I’m gonna call Hayley and
see if she wants to hang out.”
Oakley makes a low growling sound as she scampers away. When she’s
out of earshot, he says, “Hayley’s a sweet girl, Jace. You need to put an end
to that shit.”
Truth be told, I get why he’s uneasy about the whole thing. Hayley might
be two years older than Bianca, but Bianca is…Bianca.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out things probably won’t end well once
Bianca decides she’s had enough and moves on.
Huffing out a breath, Jace motions to me. “Yeah, after I put out the other
fire.”
“Me dating Sawyer isn’t a fire.”
It’s a motherfucking atomic bomb. One I can’t wait to drop on Cortland’s
dumbass come Monday.
Jace doesn’t look amused. “I don’t want you dating Sawyer. You’ve
already hurt the girl enough. Stay away from her.”
Oakley nods in agreement. “He’s right. Short stack is cool peeps. It’s not
cool to fuck with her head.”
I wasn’t aware they were her personal security guards. “I’m not fucking
with her head.”
“Right,” Jace scoffs. “You—the guy who’s only ever dated cheerleaders
and models—just so happens to be dating a girl who looks like Sawyer…
right after Casey dumps you publicly. Sorry, little brother. I don’t buy it for a
second.”
“Suspect as fuck,” Oakley chimes in.
Technically, I dumped Casey, but I don’t bring that up because it will
only give them more fodder.
“What’s wrong with the way Sawyer looks?” I counter instead.
Jace opens and closes his mouth like a fish before he says, “Nothing.
She’s just…” He looks to Oakley for help.
“Got more cushion for the pushin’ than your usual type,” Oak finishes for
him. “Plus, everyone knows Casey hates her guts.”
“Exactly,” Jace exclaims. “So why don’t you cut the shit and tell me
what’s really going on here?”
“Nothing is going on,” I deadpan, because I’m sure as fuck not going to
tell them the truth now. “Did it ever occur to either of you bozos that maybe
—just maybe—I’m really into her?”
“If you were into her, you wouldn’t have called her fat in front of the
whole school and denied hooking up with her,” Oakley unhelpfully notes.
You know you’re in trouble when Oakley starts making sense.
Jace’s features grow taut. “Don’t do this, Cole.”
Frustration rises in my chest. “Do what? Date someone I like?”
“Use her to get back at Casey.”
“I’m not using her.”
It’s not using someone if they give you permission.
Not that Sawyer has…yet.
Chapter 19
SAWYER
M y fingers press on the ivory keys, filling the church with the
melodic chords of “One of Us” by Joan Osborne.
It’s one of my all-time favorite songs, despite some
controversy surrounding it.
For me, it’s simply a reminder to treat everyone with kindness and love.
Making sure no one is around; I take a breath and start singing the
opening bars.
I close my eyes, letting the music and profound lyrics flow through me
like a current.
When I get to the chorus—the one that asks the almighty philosophical
question—I tap the pedal and belt it out from the tips of my toes, singing like
no one’s listening, because no one is.
“Your nanna loved that song.”
Except my granddaddy.
I should have known better. I love the man, but I’m convinced he’s half
minister, half ninja.
I make room for him on the bench and he sits down beside me.
“You sound like an angel. You should sing it for next Sunday’s service.”
He’s been trying to get me to sing an entire song solo for the last ten
years, but I’ve made excuses every time.
“Nah. Mrs. Feeble already asked Uncle Andrew if the choir could sing it
a few months ago, but he said the song wasn’t appropriate for a church
service.”
Whereas my granddaddy—who’s technically retired—is more lenient
with things, my uncle—the head minister—is strictly by the book and highly
opposed to what he calls, new age stuff.
Sometimes it’s hard to believe they’re father and son given they couldn’t
be more different from one another.
He tuts. “Nonsense. His mother used to listen to it all the time.”
“Maybe that’s why he doesn’t like it,” I offer. “The reminder probably
hurts too much.”
He nods solemnly. “Yeah, I can see that.”
My nanna was the best woman I’ve ever known. Not only was she sassy,
clever, and empathetic, she was warm and loving.
The glue that held our family together.
When she passed away from breast cancer four years ago, she took a huge
piece of our hearts with her.
Our family hasn’t been the same since.
Moving to California was supposed to be a fresh start for everyone, but
it’s only driven us further apart.
My mother is the church secretary, but she and my uncle don’t really get
along, so they do their best to avoid one another. My granddaddy, who was a
beloved minister for most of his life, moved here to assist his son, but my
uncle treats him like a second-class citizen and abhors his input.
And my dad? Well, he hasn’t stepped foot inside a church for over two
years.
Our family is one giant mess.
I’m hoping Catherine’s wedding will restore peace, but I have my
doubts.
Luckily the drama hasn’t ruined my relationship with my granddaddy.
I rest my head on his shoulder. “I miss her.”
They say time heals all wounds, but some wounds are just too deep to
fix.
Her passing was the first time I ever found myself truly angry with God.
Thankfully, with some guidance and understanding from my grandfather,
I was able to put things into perspective and find my faith again.
Doesn’t mean losing her hurts any less.
“I know, darlin’. Me too.” Without missing a beat, he says, “How’s
everything at home?”
I know he’s referring to my parents.
“About the same.”
He hums his disapproval. “That’s unfortunate.” Sighing, he puts his arm
around my shoulders. “Just keep praying on it. They’ll find their way.”
“I’m starting to think it’s one of those situations where God has already
given them the answer, but they’re choosing to ignore it.”
“Yeah, it might be.” Another sigh. “I’d hate to see them go their separate
ways, though. Those crazy kids sure did love each other.”
It’s true.
Like something out of a movie, Daddy was the new boy in town who
joined the football team, and mama was the pretty, popular cheerleader.
According to Mama, she took one look at him standing across the
cafeteria and it was like cupid struck her with an arrow. She knew instantly
he was the one she was meant to spend the rest of her life with. She even
declared it to my nanna the second she got home and told her to start
planning their wedding.
Daddy, however, took a little more convincing.
According to him, it was like baking bread. At first there was nothing but
dough in a pan, but his feelings for her kept rising little by little, until…bam.
An alarm bell started going off. However, in typical guy fashion, he tried to
ignore them until it was almost too late.
Fortunately, he came to his senses and managed to salvage his loaf before
it walked away with Richard Samson.
After that, they were inseparable. Like peas and carrots.
My parents weren’t just high school sweethearts…they were high school
soulmates.
None of us understand how things got so bad between them.
I don’t even think they do.
“I used to wish they would start talking to one another again, but now that
they are, I’m starting to wish they’d go back to not talking.”
This week has been nothing but non-stop bickering between them.
He squeezes my hand. “It can’t be easy for you. Especially with
Catherine gone.”
He ain’t lying. With my sister away, I’m the one they focus all their
energy on.
Mama with her unhelpful comments about my weight, and Daddy with
his sad eyes encouraging me to do well in school so I can get a scholarship.
It’s a lot of pressure.
Add the situation with Cole to the list and I’m liable to blow a gasket any
minute.
I know he wants an answer, but I still haven’t decided.
My heart says yes, but my brain says no freaking way, and I don’t know
which one to listen to.
I turn to look at my grandfather. “Can I ask your advice about
something?”
“That depends.” There’s a humorous gleam in his eye. “Are you asking
advice from your minister or your granddaddy?”
And that right there is my favorite quality about him.
He’s a man of God, but he’s also in touch with his humanity.
I give him the same answer I always do. “Both.”
“Okay, little lady. Let’s hear it.”
“Well, there’s this boy—”
“I don’t like the sound of this at all,” he mutters.
I can’t help but laugh. “It’s not like that.”
The realization I’m lying in the house of God hits me.
“It’s a little like that,” I amend. “You see, I used to have a crush on him,
until he did something not so nice to me. We haven’t spoken since then, but
now he needs my help.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thing is, he’s
a rude, selfish jerk on the outside, but on the inside…he’s…I don’t know.
There’s good in him, Granddaddy. He doesn’t like to show it, and he might
not even realize it himself…but I feel it.”
He thinks about this for a minute before replying. “It sounds like you’ve
already made up your mind about this fella.”
I try not to point out that no one uses the term fella anymore.
“What makes you say that?”
“You ended with a positive. You can tell a lot about how someone feels
about a person by the way they end a statement, especially when they’re
feeling conflicted about them.”
Hmm. I’ve never thought about it like that before, but it makes sense.
“So do you think I should help him?”
He folds his hands together, pondering. “Well, as a minister, I’m
supposed to remind you how important it is that we love, accept, and help
one another in the name of God.” He makes a face. “But as your granddaddy
—I think you should tell him to kiss your grits and find help elsewhere,
because no boy should ever hurt my grandbaby.”
I wrap my arms around him. He didn’t really help me with my decision,
but I love him all the same.
“You ended with a negative,” I tease when we break apart.
He nods. “Sure did.”
Chapter 20
SAWYER
“Y ou feeling okay?”
Oakley’s voice startles me awake and I jump. “Huh? I
mean, yeah.” After checking to make sure I didn’t drool all
over his kitchen table, I pick up the study sheet I made for
him. “Where were we?”
“We were about to reschedule for tomorrow. After you’ve gotten some
sleep.”
“It won’t matter,” I mutter before I can stop myself.
Between school, work, homework, tutoring Oakley, church stuff, and still
not tackling my admissions essay, I’m in deep shit.
He makes a face. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing.”
The last thing I want is to make Oakley feel guilty. I offered to tutor him
and I’m not giving up. He needs me.
And I…I need about ten more hours in a day and a month’s worth of
sleep.
I pick my cuticles, contemplating whether or not I should ask him.
I’ve done a little research on it and Adderall is safe for people to use in
therapeutic doses.
Granted, I’m not a doctor, but my sister is almost a nurse and when I
called her up and asked her—under the guise of asking for my friend—if
using it once a week or so to study would kill them, she said it wouldn’t.
Only problem is, I’m not sure who to get it from. Luis said he knew
someone, but I don’t know who that person is.
It could be anyone and they could potentially sell me anything.
I want to be smart about this and get it from someone I trust.
Given Oakley is selling drugs for the time being…he’s the perfect person
to ask.
Fidgeting, I get up from my seat and pace around his guesthouse.
“Oakley?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“I want to ask you for a favor, but I need you to promise to keep it
between us and not judge me.”
Leaning back in his chair, he scratches his chin. “You’re talking to the
guy who sells drugs, boned his stepmom, made out with his cousin, and
almost…” His voice trails off and he shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.
What I’m trying to say is—I’m the last person who should be judging. Your
secrets are safe with me, short stack.”
I figured they would be, but it doesn’t hurt to have some extra assurance.
“Good.”
He brings his glass of soda to his lips. “So, what’s the favor?”
“I was hoping you could get me drugs.”
Soda shoots out of his mouth and nose.
“What?” he coughs out.
I grab a roll of paper towels off the counter and hand them to him. “Not
like drug drugs. Adderall.”
His eyes widen with confusion. “The ADHD medication?”
“Yeah.”
He wipes off the table. “Why?”
“I need it to study.” Before he can suggest I stop tutoring him, I add, “I’m
trying to get into Duke’s Heart on a scholarship. But in order to do that, my
grades have to be perfect and so does my admissions essay. I just need a little
extra boost.”
He nods in understanding. “I’ll ask Loki if he has any in his arsenal. I’ll
let you know by the end of the week.”
My face falls. It’s Tuesday.
“Oh.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Is there any way it can be sooner than that? I have to turn in my essay by
Friday.”
“You really shouldn’t wait until the last minute.”
Oakley lecturing me about time management and turning in assignments
on time would be funny if it wasn’t true.
“You’re right.” Remembering he’s low on funds, I add, “I can pay you a
little extra to put a rush on it.”
He waves a hand. “Nah. It’s on me. It’s the least I can do with you
tutoring me for free and all.”
“Are you sure? Because I did toss your stash down the sewer and—”
“Yeah, I know.” He stands up. “I appreciate you making good on it
though. Loki was gonna lose his shit.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about. “Making good on it? What do you
mean?”
He looks at me like I’ve just informed him Santa and the tooth fairy are
not only real but married with children. “A few days ago, you left an
envelope with two grand in it on my doorstep.”
Say what? “Uh. No, I didn’t.”
“Uh. Yes, you did.”
Clearly, he didn’t hear me the first time. “Uh. No, I didn’t.”
“Uh. Yes, you—”
“Do I look like I have two-grand lying around, Oakley?”
“No, but…” The color drains from his face. “Shit.” He wags a finger.
“You promised not to tell anyone.”
I hold up my hands. “I didn’t. I swear.” That’s when I realize. “But a
certain someone overheard us talking in the parking lot that night, remember?
A certain someone who cares about you and wouldn’t want anything bad to
happen to you.”
I knew Cole was a good person.
He mutters another curse. “Yeah, Cole having two-grand makes a hell of
a lot more sense.” He looks at me. “No offense.”
Hell, it’s the truth. Cole’s loaded.
“None taken.”
He scrubs a hand down his jaw. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“Do you think he’ll tell Jace?”
I honestly have no idea. “I don’t see why he would. Not unless you give
him a reason to.”
“Yeah, good point. Cole’s not the type to rat anyone out.” He sighs. “I
have to pay him back, though.” He stands. “It might require an extra month
or two of working for Loki.”
Here we go. “You swore—”
His phone pings and he looks at it. “Hold that thought. Gotta help the ice
man out.”
I’m guessing that’s code for something drug-related. “Loki?”
He walks over to his fridge and opens the freezer. “Nope.” He takes out a
large bag of ice. “Be right back.”
Quicker than lightning, he runs off.
I freeze when I notice the time on his microwave. “Crap.”
I must have been asleep for a while, because I have to be at work in
fifteen minutes.
“Everything okay?” Oakley questions when he comes back inside.
Hurrying, I gather my things and shove them into my bookbag. “I’m
gonna be late for work if I don’t leave.”
“Oh.”
I swing my backpack over my shoulder. “Does Friday after school work
for you?”
“Yup. Want to meet here again?”
I’m about to say yes, but then I remember I have a student council
meeting followed by a shift at work. “Can we meet in the library after my
student council meeting? I’ll have an hour free before I have to head to work.
It will be easier if you meet me there rather than me driving here.”
He brings a blunt to his lips and lights it. “I got you, shorty.”
With that, I give him a wave and head out the door.
I’m walking down the pathway when something catches my eye and I
pause.
The Covingtons have a large, extravagant in-ground pool in their
backyard.
However, for reasons beyond me, there’s a six-foot-three football player
crammed into what appears to be some type of kiddie pool.
“You know there’s an adult size version next to you, right?” I mention as
I pass him.
It’s only then I realize Cole’s kiddie pool is filled with ice water and he’s
shivering.
“Holy Cheezits. What’s wrong with you? Are you insane?”
Backing up, I reach for his hand, but he declines.
“I do this after every practice. Helps reduce the swelling,” he says
through chattering teeth.
I wince. “Are you really in that much pain?”
His eyebrows dance. “If I say yes, will you kiss it better?”
Nope, not going there. “Enjoy the rest of your bath.”
“It’s gonna look weird if I don’t flirt with my girlfriend, so I suggest you
find a way to deal with it, Bible Thumper.”
Jesus take the wheel.
“I’m sorry, did all that ice freeze your brain? When did I agree to be your
girlfriend?”
He shrugs. “You didn’t say no.”
“I don’t recall saying yes either.”
His jaw tics. “You—”
The sound of my phone ringing cuts him off.
I curse when I see my boss’s name flash across the screen.
Holding up a finger, I shush him. “Hey, Mr. Gonzales. What’s up?”
“I need you to come in early today.”
I blink. “My shift starts in fifteen minutes.”
“I know, but I figured if I called you in early, you might make it on time
for once.”
As much as I hate to admit it, he has a point. My recent track record isn’t
too hot. Last week alone I was late for work twice.
“I’m leaving now. Be there soon.”
I hear him clap his hands. “Ándale, muchacha.”
Then he hangs up.
Rude much?
I brush past Cole. “That was my boss. Gotta go.”
Chapter 21
COLE
F our days.
Four days to make a decision that would take any other
girl on the planet less than four seconds to agree to.
I tried to be patient with her.
I tried not to lose my shit when she dodged me at school and ignored my
text messages.
But when I saw Cortland walk up to her at lunch today and ask if she was
seeing anyone, and she told him no…her time was up.
Sawyer Church is my girlfriend…whether she likes it or not.
The ball is no longer in her court.
It’s in my motherfucking hands.
Which is exactly why I’m pulling up to her house.
Where she can’t snub me.
Grunting, I grab the bouquet of pink peonies from my passenger seat.
According to Bianca, every woman loves flowers, and these are a solid
choice.
All I know is they better work.
I’m nervous as I amble up the walkway, which is unlike me.
The red brick house is almost pitifully small and in desperate need of a
power wash and professional landscaping, but if you overlook all that, it’s not
so bad.
I look for a bell when I reach the front door, but there isn’t one.
“Who the fuck doesn’t have a doorbe—”
The front door swings open and I’m greeted by a tall, stout man with salt
and pepper hair and a beard.
He looks less than thrilled to see me.
“Can I help you?”
His twang is thicker than Sawyer’s. And nowhere near as sexy.
I clear my throat, unsure of how to answer.
Something tells me he wouldn’t appreciate me informing him that I have
every intention of fucking his daughter so good she’s going to start calling me
daddy soon.
Instead, I hold out my hand. “Nice to meet you. Is your daughter home?”
It’s a dumb question. Sawyer’s van is in the driveway.
He shakes my hand so hard I’m thankful practice is over for the day.
“Which one?”
He says it like it’s some kind of test.
Truth be told, I had no idea Sawyer had a sister. Interesting.
“Sawye—”
“Dan, who’s at the doo—oh.”
The woman’s eyebrows shoot up when she spots me.
She, too, has a twang. “Well, hello there. How do you do?”
Her mom is a slender, attractive brunette who looks a little younger than
she probably is, but not nearly as young as she thinks she looks.
The only physical features Sawyer shares with her mother are her
perfectly straight white teeth and long dark hair.
“He’s here to see Sawyer,” he enlightens her.
Confusion etches her features. “Sawyer?” She spots the flowers in my
hand. “Oh. Are you selling flow—”
“Who’s here to see me—shit.”
The girl of the hour looks like she’s seen a ghost.
“Sawyer Grace, you mind your tongue in front of company,” her mother
scolds.
I grin. “Sawyer Grace, huh? That’s a nice name.”
The glare she gives me could resurrect the dead and kill them all over
again. “What are you doing here, Covington?”
“You told me I had to meet your parents.”
She blinks. “Like hell I did—”
“Sawyer,” her mother scolds for a second time.
“Sorry, Mama.” I can tell she wants to punch me, but she can’t because
her parents would frown on it.
Well, her mom would. Her dad looks like he’d most definitely approve.
“Goodness me, don’t keep us all in suspense,” her mother proclaims.
“Who is this young man?”
Her throat bobs on a swallow. “He’s—”
“I’m her boyfriend.”
Chapter 22
T hat motherfucker.
He has a lot of balls for not only coming to my home
unannounced but telling my parents he’s my boyfriend.
Understandably, the parental units are flabbergasted.
“Boyfriend?” my father barks. “You never said anything about having a
boyfriend.”
That’s because I don’t.
Then again, if I say he is, my dad might get his shotgun.
That would definitely be one way to get rid of Cole.
“Relax, Dan.” My mother chuckles like it’s the most ludicrous thing she’s
ever heard. “I’m sure he isn’t dating Sawyer.”
The fact she doesn’t believe someone as good-looking as Cole could be
my boyfriend stings, but it doesn’t surprise me.
I have no idea what to make of the look Cole gives her. “Actually,
ma’am. I am.”
My mother opens and closes her mouth a few times before she speaks.
“Oh.” Catching herself, she forces a smile. “I had no idea. But please, come
in.”
Crap. I have to get rid of him before they start asking questions.
“He can’t,” I sputter. “He was just coming here to drop off—”
“Flowers.” Cole motions to the peonies as he moseys on in like he owns
the place. “Here.”
I want to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face when I hold out my hand to
accept the stupid peonies and he gives them to my mother.
“Sawyer told me how much you like flowers. I hope these are okay.”
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
Truth be told, my mom happens to love flowers, but he doesn’t know
that.
I pinch myself because I must have been sucked into an alternate
universe.
A universe where Cole Covington shows up at my house uninvited with
flowers for my mother and declares I’m his girlfriend.
It’s only then I realize this whole thing is my own doing.
When I told Cole he had to meet my parents in order to date me, I was
screwing with his head because I wanted to see him freak out.
I never expected him to take me seriously.
Mama fluffs her hair. “Oh, my. These are beautiful. How thoughtful of
you.”
“Yup. So thoughtful.” I place my hand on his chest—ignoring how firm it
is—and start pushing. “Now take your thoughtful self back to your car and
go.”
“Sawyer Grace,” Mama cries out. “You better stop behaving like we
didn’t raise you to have manners, young lady.”
Fuck my life. That’s the second time she’s middle-named me in front of
him.
“We were just about to sit down for supper,” she tells Cole. “You’re
welcome to join us if you want.”
Like hell he is. “No—”
“I’d love to,” Cole interjects.
Of course he would.
Because the stubborn jerk is determined to get his way.
I can tell my father is sizing him up as he trudges to the kitchen table.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s not a fan—especially when Cole
makes the mistake of taking his seat at the head of the table.
Dumbass.
My father clears his throat. Loudly. “You planning on being my seat
warmer during the meal?”
Fortunately, Cole gets the hint and quickly moves to the seat directly
across from me.
The three of us sit in awkward silence while my mom brings the food to
the table.
Normally I’d help, but I don’t want her to start poking and prying.
Plus, I need to keep a close eye on Cole, who’s looking mighty pleased
with himself.
Smug bastard.
I’m relieved when Mama joins us. It will be hard to talk when everyone’s
stuffing their faces.
Nerves rattle my belly as I watch Cole pile food on his plate. I’m not
ashamed of where I come from, but it’s unnerving to be eating dinner with
someone who has maids and private chefs at his disposal.
My mother’s a great cook, but he’s not going to be impressed with her pot
roast and mashed potatoes when he can have filet mignon served to him on a
gold platter every night.
Same can be said for me. Everyone’s going to wonder why he picked me
when he can have any girl he wants.
Clearly Colton didn’t think his plan through very well.
All the more reason for me to decline the offer to be his fake girlfriend.
I grab a roll from the basket. They just came from the oven so they’re
warm and extra delicious.
Mama clears her throat. “Are you sure you want to eat that?”
My cheeks heat with embarrassment. It’s bad enough that she criticizes
me when we’re alone, but to do it in front of Cole of all people.
I silently pray for a sinkhole to open up and swallow me, but alas, it
doesn’t.
The big man upstairs must have more important stuff to deal with.
I drop the roll back into the basket. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“Not to be rude, but why shouldn’t she eat that?” Cole questions.
Oh, no.
Surprise illuminates Mama’s features, but she quickly laughs it off.
“Because carbs are the devil.” Crinkling her nose, she adds, “It’s a girl thing,
you wouldn’t understand.”
“Actually,” Cole counters. “As a football player, I know a lot about
nutrition, and carbs are necessary for energy. I’m sure you’re well aware of
how hectic Sawyer’s schedule is. If she stops eating carbs, she’ll be tired and
less productive. As her mom, I know you wouldn’t want that to happen
because you want the best for her.” Glowering, he takes a huge bite of his
own roll. “Right?”
I practically choke on my pot roast.
The only person who’s ever told her to lay off me is my father, and the
last time he did it practically caused a civil war.
Mama kept screaming that I was going to have health problems and eat
myself into an early grave, and Daddy kept yelling that I was just big-boned,
and my baby fat would go away soon.
It was utterly humiliating.
I was so depressed I scarfed down three chocolate bars I’d hidden in my
bedroom.
Mama looks down at the tablecloth. I can’t tell if she’s ashamed or
fighting the urge to kick him out. “Of course I want what’s best for my
daughter.”
The harsh look my father has been giving Cole since he walked through
the door eases up a bit. “I played some football back in the day.”
I breathe easier. Football is a safe subject.
Cole’s eyes light up like the Fourth of July. “Oh yeah? That’s awesome.
What position did you play?”
He beams a little. “Left guard.”
Cole reaches across the table to give him a fist bump. “Respect. You guys
take a lot of punishment on the field.”
Daddy nods. “Damn straight.” Judgment swirls in his big brown eyes. “If
I had to take a gander, I’d say you’re the quarterback.”
An arrogant smile unfurls. “That obvious, huh?”
“Yes.”
The ice in my dad’s tone makes it clear he didn’t mean it as a
compliment.
“So, how did y’all meet?” Mama asks, breaking up the tension.
“We go to school together,” I remind her.
She rolls her eyes. “I know that, Sawyer Grace. What I meant was, how
did you two start dating? And how come you never mentioned having a
boyfriend before?”
Here we go.
It’s time to clear things up. “We’re not—”
“Official yet,” Cole cuts in. “Sawyer insisted I had to meet her parents
before she agreed to be my girlfriend.”
My mom looks at me like I’m crazy. “Really?”
Daddy’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Good to know one of my daughters
still cares what her old man thinks.”
He’s obviously still hurt about Catherine’s fiancé going to my mother for
permission and leaving him out altogether.
“Dan,” Mama grits through her teeth. “This isn’t the time.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles.
Mama looks around the table until her eyes land on me. “Your birthday is
coming up soon. Is there anything special you want to do?”
Yeah…sleep.
Truth be told, I haven’t thought much about it. My parents don’t have the
money to do anything fancy and I don’t want to be a burden.
“I don’t know. I was hoping we could do something small here. Maybe
dinner and cake?”
Concern washes over Daddy’s expression. “Are you sure? It’s a big day,
Sawyer. You only turn eighteen once.”
“I’m sure, Daddy.”
“Gosh, I still can’t believe it,” Mama gushes. “Seems like just yesterday
we were bringing you home from the hospital and fighting over your name.”
Yup, it’s definitely time to change the topic of conversation.
“Time flies when you’re having fun, huh? Anyway—”
“When’s your birthday?” Cole interjects.
My stomach does that weird flippy thing before it falls to the floor.
I wave a hand dismissively. “It’s not important. Don’t worry about it.”
“Of course it’s important,” Daddy argues.
“What in the world has gotten into you, Sawyer?” my mother prods.
Oh, hell.
“November seventh.”
His gaze burns through me like thermite through metal. “That’s a great
day.” Shifting his stare, he plants a big smile on his gorgeous face. “It’s my
birthday too.”
No, it’s not.
Liam’s death must have been excruciating for everyone who loved him…
but his death didn’t erase Cole.
The real Cole.
Mama’s face lights up. “Wow, would you look at that? What are the
odds?”
With four people in a room…less than one percent.
But if one of those people is lying and putting on a façade? One hundred
percent bullshit.
“Imagine that,” I murmur, heaving a forkful of potatoes into my mouth.
“You two should do something special together to celebrate.”
Cole’s smile grows wider. “It’s like you read my m—”
“Can’t.” I stab the pot roast. “Dylan’s birthday is two days before mine
and we already made plans to celebrate our birthdays together.”
My dad takes a sip of his drink. “How has she been?”
“Good. Busy with work and college.”
And Jace.
“Speaking of college,” Daddy says. “Have you turned in your essay for
Duke’s Heart yet?”
Haven’t even started it.
I have less than twelve hours to submit it. Talk about walking on the
edge.
“Yup.” I wipe my mouth with my napkin. “Early this morning.”
“Cutting it close, sweetheart. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah, but I’m sure it will be fine.”
I make a mental note to take the Adderall Oakley gave me today after
dinner and get it done.
“So, Cole,” my mother begins. “Tell us a little more about yourself.
What do your parents do for a living?”
I want to remind her what Cole’s parents do for work has nothing to do
with him as a person, but it’s too late.
“My father owns Trust Pharmaceuticals—”
“Trust Pharmaceuticals, my ass,” Daddy mutters.
“Dan,” Mama shrieks.
Cole wipes his mouth. “No, it’s okay. To tell you the truth, I feel the same
way your husband does about the company.”
“Doesn’t stop you from reaping the benefits though, huh?” Daddy
criticizes. “I’ve been working on cars for the last twenty years and I can’t say
I’ve ever had the pleasure of working on a Ferrari.”
Cole straightens his spine. “In that case, I’ll have to bring my LaFerrari
by your shop sometime so you can pop open the hood.”
Clutching his fork, Daddy leans back in his chair. “I appreciate the offer,
but I don’t need your blood money or charity.”
“Daddy,” I snap. “You’re being rude.”
Here I was worried Cole would be judging us and it’s the other way
around.
“How about your mother?” Mama questions with a tight smile. “What
does she do?”
“Not much,” Cole answers with a straight face. “She’s dead.”
Daddy chokes on his drink. “Sorry to hear that.”
“Goodness, that’s awful. I’m so sorry—”
“You’re a fantastic cook, Mrs. Church,” Cole interjects. “This is the best
meal I’ve had in a long time.”
I’m not one bit surprised he changed the subject.
The trick works, because Mama is practically glowing. “Why, thank you.
You’re welcome to join us for supper whenever you want.”
Daddy grumbles something under his breath I can’t make out.
Mama loads more food onto Cole’s plate. “Do you have any siblings?”
Cole dives right into his second helping. “One older brother and a
younger sister.”
It’s kind of scary how easily the omission flows from his mouth.
As if he didn’t spare Liam a second thought.
“His brother Jace is dating Dylan,” I clarify to connect the dots for them.
“Oh,” Mama exclaims. “I guess that explains how y’all got together.”
I open my mouth to tell her we’re not together, but Daddy utters,
“Dylan’s boyfriend is your brother?”
“Yeah.” Cole pauses mid-bite. “I take it you’ve met him before?”
He nods. “He brought the car he got Dylan for her birthday into my shop
to have a second safety check done.” I’m not sure what to make of the look
on his face. “Nice kid. Hard worker, too.”
Cole nods. “He is.”
“Never would have guessed you two were brothers. You’re very…
different.”
I see a flicker of pain flash across his face. Pain I’m familiar with.
“Just because they’re siblings doesn’t mean they have to act the same,” I
exclaim. “Take Catherine and me, for instance. We couldn’t be more
different if we tried.”
We’re so different, people have outright asked if I was adopted and
openly referred to her as the pretty, thin one in front of me.
“Ain’t that the truth,” my mother agrees with a heavy sigh.
Wanting to put Cole out of his misery, I push my chair out. “Dinner was
great, but I have a lot of homework to finish up.” I look at Cole. “Come on,
I’ll walk you to the door.”
“Are you sure—” Mama starts to say, but Cole stands up.
“Thank you for having me. It was nice to meet you both.”
Mama starts clearing the table. “You come back any time now, you
hear?”
Daddy stays silent.
“Your father hates me,” Cole hisses after we leave the table.
“He doesn’t hate you. He’s just annoyed some boy showed up on his
doorstep unannounced, declared he was dating his daughter, gave flowers to
his wife, and then invited himself to dinner.”
“Technically, your mom invited me,” he says with a smirk.
I point a finger at him. “You should have said no.”
“That would’ve been rude.”
Seriously? “As opposed to all the other times you’re rude to people?”
“Look, you said I had to meet them.” Leaning in, he whispers, “And now
that I’ve held up my end of the agreement, it’s time for you to hold up
yours.”
Not today, Satan.
“We had no agreement, Cole. I told you I’d think about it.”
His jaw tics. “That was almost a week ago.”
“You’re right, and I think I’ve finally reached my decision.”
A self-satisfied grin plays on his lips. “I knew you’d—”
“No.”
His smile falls. “What? What do you mean, no?”
“No, I will not be your fake girlfriend.” I open the front door. “Now get
out.”
He blinks. “You’re joking, right?”
I point to my face. “Does it look like I’m joking?”
He blows out a breath. “You obviously need a little more time to think
about it. Let’s touch base tomorrow.”
It’s like he doesn’t understand English.
“I don’t need more time to think—”
Placing his finger over my lips, he closes the space between us.
“We’ll talk tomorrow, Bible Thumper.”
I nod.
Not because I’m agreeing with him. I just want him to leave so I can take
the Adderall and write my essay.
He looks like he wants to say something else, but I nip it in the bud.
“What’s that, Mama?” I call over my shoulder. “You need help with the
dishes?”
He playfully tugs on my ponytail. “Brat.”
With that, he walks out the door.
Chapter 23
COLE
I ’m two feet from my car when I hear the front door open behind
me.
“Hang on a minute, young man.”
Not quite the sultry southern twang I was hoping for.
Then again, maybe he came out here to apologize. The guy was a
goddamn prick during dinner. I’d have more respect for the dude if he’d just
come right out and told me I’m not good enough for his daughter.
Hell, I’d be the first one to agree.
I turn around. “Yeah?”
He holds up my varsity jacket. “You left this on the back of your chair.”
I take it from him. “Thanks.”
He folds his arms across his chest. “Got a minute?”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we were about to have a duel.
Despite the bad feeling I have brewing in my gut about this impending
conversation, I accept. “Sure.”
Chapter 24
SAWYER
Given I had feelings for him in the past, it’s safe to say fake dating could
pose a potential problem for me.
I need to figure out a way to protect myself.
Sawyer: I’m not sure yet. Meet me in the school parking lot at 6:45
tomorrow morning. I’ll have the contract written up by then.
Cole: Contract?
Sawyer: That a problem for you?
Cole: No.
Chapter 25
SAWYER
Cole: I know. School is such a cock blocker. We should cut the rest of the
day and go back to my house.
My lips twitch as I hit send. If her panties weren’t in a bunch before, they
certainly will be now.
Damn. Bad choice of words. Just thinking about Sawyer’s panties gives
me a semi.
I wonder if they’re the lacy and see-through kind.
Nah. Knowing her, they’re probably plain cotton.
Innocent and pure…just like her little pussy.
Sawyer: Are you out of your mind? We are never having sex. Not today, not
tomorrow…not ever. Understand?
Smiling to myself, I chew the end of my pen.
Cole: If you feel that strongly about not fucking me, you should have put it in
the contract.
Sawyer: And just so we’re clear, what I’m referring to is your dick.
J ust like the first three-quarters of the game, I can’t see squat.
Apparently, the mascot hangs with the cheerleaders on the
sidelines during all the fun stuff.
Along with a lot of other people.
People blocking me from seeing Cole.
I can hear everyone cheering for him though, and I know the Knights are
ahead of the Bears by sixteen points. Which is awesome considering there are
only two more minutes in the game.
I just wish I could have seen him throw a touchdown.
Because when he does? It’s a thing of beauty.
He throws with such precision it takes my breath away.
Reel it in, Sawyer. Your fangirl is starting to show.
I can’t help it though, Cole off the field is a ruthless asshole.
But the Cole on the field is such a skilled and smart player it’s impossible
not to notice him.
He was born for this.
The crowd cheers and people in the stands begin stomping their feet.
“Lucky Seven!!”
I can’t help but smile. Cole threw another touchdown.
People start jumping up and down and I’m able to make out bits and
pieces of him through the sea of bodies in front of me.
He steals my breath. He illuminates, he…
“Let’s go, Izzy,” Casey barks.
Fuck a duck.
I’m pretty sure Cole just threw the last touchdown of the game, which
means we’re on deck.
The only problem?
Izzy usually dances after we win…and I don’t dance…ever.
I’m going to kill Oakley.
The cheerleaders take their positions and proceed to shake and shimmy
their little hearts out.
Casey does her big flip—which even I’ll admit is impressive—and then
motions for me to join them.
Here goes nothing.
Placing my hand behind my head and extending my arm out in front of
me, I proceed to do the only dance move I’m good at.
The sprinkler.
I’m expecting everyone to boo and throw things but to my surprise, they
all cheer. Some people even start mimicking me.
Turns out being Izzy isn’t half as bad as I thought it would be, but I’d be
lying if I said I wasn’t in a hurry to get off the field and be Sawyer again.
The sound of the buzzer is music to my ears and when I look up, I see
Lucky Seven being rushed by his teammates.
I can’t see his face since his helmet is still on, but I can feel the energy
radiating off him.
It’s addicting.
I must be staring at him for too long though, because Bianca sidles up to
me and whispers, “Ogle my brother any longer and Casey’s gonna test your
armor out, Knight.”
Shit.
Turning, I promptly follow the cheerleaders off the field.
“You were amazing, Casey,” Morgan coos.
Kiss ass.
“I know.” Casey fluffs her hair and pouts. “But I really need to lose five
pounds.”
Seriously? The girl is a size two on a bad day.
Behind them, I see Bianca exchange an eye roll with Caitlyn and another
girl.
“Oh, please, girl,” Morgan tells her. “You’re perfect.”
“I know, but the head cheerleader of the Bears is skinnier and goes higher
than me when she flips.” She whips a compact out of her bag. “I really want
to be a cheerleader at Duke’s Heart, and they’re picky with who they accept
on the team. Losing five pounds would give me an advantage.”
“You could always try low-carb.”
Casey looks at her friend like she’s a bug in her soup. “I already do no
carb, Morgan.”
Bianca clears her throat. “You know, my dad’s pharmaceutical company
recently developed this new protein bar that’s supposed to help athletes lose
weight in a short amount of time. I can try to get you some if you want, but I
should warn you, it’s really powerful and it’s still in the beginning stages, so
it hasn’t been approved by the Food and Drug Administration yet.”
Casey stops in her tracks. “Does it work?”
Bianca nods. “I dropped three pounds this week. It gives you the shits like
crazy though.”
Morgan crinkles her nose. “Gross.”
Bianca shrugs. “Like I said, this stuff is no joke. Plus, it’s how you lose
all the weight. It has to go somewhere, you know?”
Casey thinks about this for a moment. “I suppose there’s no harm in
trying it out.”
Morgan makes a face. “Don’t be dumb, Casey. I wouldn’t take anything
from this little bit—”
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not taking it then, huh?” Casey counters.
“Although truth be told, you probably should. Your ass is getting huge.”
There are a lot of things wrong with Morgan, but the size of her ass isn’t
one of them.
“Oakley told me my ass looked great today.”
Casey makes a noise of disgust. “You mean the stoner who’s repeating
his senior year of high school?” She tosses her head back and laughs. “Please.
That moron can barely string two decent sentences together, let alone form a
cohesive thought or opinion that anyone important actually cares about.”
I open my mouth to defend my friend…but remember I can’t.
Bianca gives Casey a syrupy sweet smile. “I have to go catch a ride home
with my brother, but I can bring you some of the bars tomorrow if you want.”
Casey nods. “Yeah, thanks.”
The moment Bianca turns away, her smile changes to a menacing smirk.
That girl is definitely brewing something in her cauldron.
Chapter 29
SAWYER
“H old on. I’m not ready yet,” Oakley yells from the back room.
“I need another second.”
“He’s been in there for over forty minutes.” Dylan
motions to her near complete tattoo. “I’m almost done.”
“I know.” I try not to laugh. “I’m surprised Cole hasn’t lost his shit yet.”
“Okay—I think I’m ready now,” Oakley declares.
“Great. Take a deep breath for me,” the patient piercer instructs.
“Wait,” Oakley screams. “I need one more minute.”
“Jesus Christ!” Cole roars. “Motherfucker, if you tell her to wait one
more time, I’m putting that barbell through your dick myself.”
The laughter Dylan, Jace, and I were trying to suppress escapes us in one
big wave. Even our tattoo artist—who we found out is named Ivan—has to
pause to gather his bearings.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Oakley exclaims when he walks out a few minutes
later, looking smug.
“Speak for yourself,” a grim Cole grits out behind him.
That only makes us laugh harder.
Ivan wipes the excess ink off Dylan’s hip and holds a mirror up to it.
“What do you think?”
Dylan smiles from ear to ear. “Holy shit, I love it.” She looks at me.
“What about you?”
“It’s perfect.”
The 3D butterfly is mid-sized with intricate detail, and there are deep
shades of vibrant blue swirling through it.
It’s incredible.
I look at Ivan. “You did a really good job.”
He grins. “I’m glad you think so…because it’s your turn.”
Oh, right.
Jace gives the guy a fist bump. “Thanks for taking care of my girl, man.
Looks awesome.” He drops a kiss on Dylan’s forehead. “You did great,
baby.”
Dylan beams as Ivan puts Saran Wrap over her new tattoo. “It only hurt a
little.” She pats my arm. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”
Somehow, I doubt that, but here goes nothing.
My fingers find the waistband of my leggings…then I freeze.
Dylan’s body is perfect, and her hipbones are razor sharp.
Mine, however, are barely existent because they’re covered by layers of
fat.
Fat I don’t want a group of guys to see…even if some of them are my
friends.
Not missing a beat, Dylan looks at Ivan. “My friend’s a little shy—”
“Don’t worry.” He winks at me. “I got you, cutie.”
Ivan’s sweet, but the compliments will stop once he gets a load of all my
fat rolls, I’m sure of it.
Quick as lightning, he fetches some kind of divider and places it in front
of my chair, blocking everyone’s view.
Dylan walks around to the other side as I lower my leggings. “Wanna
hold my hand?”
I’m not even going to pretend like I don’t. I happily latch onto it. “Scale
of one to ten?”
Dylan purses her lips. “Sometimes a five, but never unbearable. Kind of
feels like a cat scratching you…repeatedly.”
I shudder.
“I haven’t even started yet, babe,” Ivan tells me. “Relax.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just a little jumpy. It’s my first time.”
I feel like a dumbass because he already knows that.
He wipes some alcohol on my skin. “You’re adorable.”
Dylan’s eyes light up like fireworks.
“He’s totally flirting with you,” she mouths.
No, he’s just being nice and trying to make the fat girl feel better.
“You ready?” he questions as he rips open a package containing a new
needle.
I blow out a shaky breath. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Chapter 32
COLE
“I t’s not really that deep,” Oakley tells Dylan. “Morgan and I
are just having fun.”
Dylan scoops some of the sundae she’s splitting with Jace
onto her spoon. “Does she know that?”
Oakley takes a long sip of his milkshake before he answers. “She should.
I told her from the get-go it’s money over bitches.”
Dylan and I glare at him.
Rolling his eyes, Oakley sits up straight. “I’m sorry, I meant money over
humans with two X chromosomes. Better?”
Dylan looks up at the ceiling. “No—”
“Yes,” I exclaim, glad our studying is finally paying off. “You got it
right.”
He grins. “Really?”
“Yup. And if you keep up the good work, you’ll be on track to graduate
this year.”
Dylan’s smile matches ours. “I’m really proud of you, Oak.”
She squeezes my hand under the table.
Jace looks around the ice cream shop. “Cole’s been gone for a while
now.”
The moment Dylan and I showed up, Cole said he was taking a walk.
Like he couldn’t get away fast enough.
We haven’t seen him since.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Dylan says. “He’s probably still cooling off or
whatever.”
Jace stands up. “I’m gonna go check on him.”
“I’ll do it.”
Before anyone can protest, I grab my bag off the table and head out.
After the words Cole and Jace had earlier, I’m not sure Jace is the best
person for the job.
I’m probably not either considering I was the reason he blew up on the
guy at the tattoo shop, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to clear the air
between us.
I peer through the window of Jace’s car, but he’s not in there.
I dip inside a few stores on the strip after that, but no dice.
He’s nowhere to be found.
I’m starting to get worried when a thought occurs to me. There’s only one
place I haven’t checked, and it’s because we were already there.
I highly doubt Cole’s inside, given what happened earlier, but it’s worth a
shot.
Awkwardness ensues when I walk in and see Ivan at the counter.
“Hey.”
“Let me guess, you’re looking for your boyfriend who’s not really your
boyfriend?”
He’s either psychic, or my guess was right and Cole is here. “I take it he
came back?”
“Yeah.” I don’t know what to make of the look he gives me. “He’s in the
back with Candace. They should be finishing up soon.”
“Oh.”
I’m not sure if he’s actually hinting that something is going on between
them, or if I’m just being paranoid.
Either way, I hate the way my stomach knots.
Maybe Dylan was right and I’m fooling myself into believing I can
handle this situation with Cole when it’s obvious I can’t.
Because if I could…I wouldn’t be barreling toward the back room like a
woman on a mission.
The door swings open when I reach it and Candace slithers out, closing it
behind her.
Like the other artists who work here, she’s covered in piercings and
tattoos.
She’s also beautiful…and thin.
Just the way Cole likes them.
“Is he—”
Words lodge in my throat because the only thing I care about is whether
she fucked my boyfriend or not.
“He’s getting dressed.” She smiles. “You can go in there if you want.”
Getting dressed.
Heart on the floor, I turn the knob and walk in.
Cole has no right to ask me to help him and then turn around and hurt me
like this.
“How could—”
My sentence dies the moment I see him.
He’s sitting shirtless on a black bench with his head in his hands…
looking so dejected, it tears my heart wide open.
“Talk to me,” I whisper.
I don’t care what he says.
I just need him to let me in.
Because all the pain he keeps bottled up inside is slowly killing him piece
by fucked up piece.
And I refuse to let that happen.
Because no matter how ruthless and damaged he is…a world without
Colton isn’t a world I want to live in.
Slowly, he lifts his head.
His eyes—those beautiful green pools of depth which are usually so full
of intensity—look dull and lifeless.
Like he’s trapped inside something that’s sucking the life out of him.
I don’t think…I follow the impulse beating through my chest like a
drum.
The second my arms wrap around him, something inside him unhinges.
He hugs me so tight it steals every ounce of air from my lungs.
He can have it.
He trembles against me, shaking like a tree in a hurricane.
There are so many questions I want to ask him, so many things I wish he
would tell me.
But I know if I push him too hard, too fast, he’ll recoil back into his shell
and his protective armor will slip back into place.
All I can do right now is hold him.
Let him know he’s not alone.
After what feels like an eternity, he speaks.
“I thought it would help.” He lifts his gaze to mine. “But it didn’t.” His
voice drops to a painful rasp. “Nothing does.”
I want to scream that of course fucking some random woman in a tattoo
shop won’t help, but I don’t.
I grab his face in my hands. “That’s because Band-Aids only cover up a
wound…they don’t heal it.”
“Maybe I don’t want it to heal.” Those green orbs harden. “Maybe I
deserve the reminder.”
It’s only then I notice the Saran Wrap around his arm. “May I?”
He raises his arm. “Go for it.”
Being as tender as possible, I unwind the plastic film. “No one deserves
to live in agony, Cole.”
He snorts. “Says the girl who believes in Hell.”
My eyes widen when I uncover the ink on his inner bicep.
Like the rest of us, he got a butterfly…only his is three sizes smaller.
Nearly invisible. And green.
Next to the tiny butterfly, is a date. August 21 st, 2001.
Their—his—real birthday.
“Green was his favorite color.” His laugh is bitter. “It was the only thing
we had in common.”
I have a feeling they had more in common than he’ll ever let himself
acknowledge.
I roll the plastic back around his bicep. “It’s your throwing arm.”
The fact that he chose to get it there of all places feels significant.
That turmoil is back in his eyes. “Awfully perceptive of you, Bible
Thumper.”
Heart pounding, I brush my lips over his tattoo. “That’s because I see
you, Colton.”
He covers it up by making rude, hurtful remarks…but deep down, he’s
grieving a vital part of himself he lost.
Liam.
I turn around, intending to give him his space, but his hand wraps around
my wrist and he pulls me back to him.
I expect him to get angry and lash out, but he doesn’t.
He kisses me.
Chapter 34
SAWYER
1 99lbs.
The scale must be broken because there’s no way I lost five pounds
in four days.
I scan my brain, doing a quick inventory of my weekend.
On Thursday, Cole showed up for dinner, and I worked on my essay.
Friday, I gave Cole the contract and went undercover as Izzy.
On Saturday, I got my tattoo with a side of Cole drama.
Sunday, I attended church, went to choir practice, and studied.
That’s when it dawns on me. The Adderall.
Luis told me it made people lose weight, but I thought I was so fat I’d be
immune to that little side effect.
Come to think of it, I haven’t had much of an appetite lately.
I couldn’t even eat a full slice of birthday cake.
I look in the mirror. Can’t say I’m mad about it.
Feeling like the universe might be punking me, I jump back on the scale
to make sure it’s not a fluke.
A rush of happiness flows through me when it reads the same.
The last time I was under two-hundred pounds was when I had the flu for
two whole weeks.
Of course, the second I recovered and started eating, I gained it all back
and then some.
I dig the Adderall out of my bookbag and stuff one in my mouth.
I wasn’t planning on taking one today since I got so much studying done
yesterday, but why not? As far as I’m concerned, this is a miracle drug.
Not only does it help me study more and give me energy. It makes me
lose weight. I’ve finally cracked the code.
I’m practically skipping down the staircase.
“Someone’s in a good mood,” my dad notes when he sees me.
Just like that, my good mood dissipates.
I can’t look at him without replaying what he told Cole over and over in
my head.
Ignoring him, I head for the front door.
“Your breakfast is on the table,” my mother calls out.
“Sorry, I told someone I’d give them my study notes before school. I’ll
stop and grab something on the way.”
I ’m pretty sure this is the first time a girl has ever turned down a
designer bag.
“You don’t want it,” I repeat.
Goddamnit. Bianca told me she’d like it.
Not bothering to clarify or close her locker, Sawyer brushes past me. “I
have to get to class.”
Dumbfounded, I look at Oakley. “She doesn’t want it.”
Oakley shrugs. “What can I tell you, man. Girls are stupid.”
Yeah, but not this girl. Something’s going on.
The hallway is almost clear by the time I catch up to her. “We need to
talk.”
“By talk, do you mean bite my head off like you did on Saturday?”
“Is that why you don’t want the bag?”
I guess I could have been nicer about it, but she was going to reject my
ass—which would make her a hypocrite because we both know she secretly
wants me.
Sawyer is many things, but a liar isn’t one of them.
And if she stopped being stubborn and trying to resist me…we’d have a
lot more fun for the duration of the bet.
She gives her head a shake. “I don’t have time for this, Cole. I’m late for
class.”
“It’s homeroom. Nothing important happens there.”
She looks at me like I’m stupid. “Um, attendance does.”
She can sort that shit out later. My bone to pick with her takes
precedence.
Refusing no for an answer, I grab her elbow and lead her into an empty
classroom.
Then I stand in front of the door, blocking her from leaving.
She makes an irritated noise. “I don’t have time for your games—”
“What’s wrong with the bag?”
“Nothing. It’s beautiful.”
“Then why don’t you want it?”
Hitching her backpack up her shoulder, she groans. “I really don’t want to
talk about this, okay?”
“Tough shit.”
She huffs, growing more irate with me by the second. “Look, I appreciate
the gesture, it was really nice of you—”
“Then what’s the prob—”
“I’m not Casey,” she shouts. “I don’t have money, I’m not skinny, I don’t
—”
“What’s your point?”
I’ve taken a lot of hits to the head playing football, but not so many I’m
oblivious to shit.
She pokes her chest with her thumb. “My point is that I am okay with me
not being any of those things…but it’s obvious you aren’t.”
I’m not sure how me buying her a birthday present made her come to that
conclusion.
“It’s a fucking purse.”
“It’s not a fucking purse,” she counters. “It’s more than that. It’s…I am
not them. And no matter how much shit you charge to your daddy’s credit
card in hopes of making me trendy and popular so I’ll fit in and things will be
easier for you…it won’t work.”
Her words sting.
They shouldn’t, but they do.
“That’s why you think I did it?”
She draws in a shaky breath. “Why else would you?”
I tell her the honest truth. “Because a spiteful bitch destroyed something
of yours…and I wanted to fix it.”
Her eyes become glassy. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” I answer in frustration. “Because I fucking felt like it, all
right?”
“Colton,” she presses.
“Casey ruined your shit because of me,” I growl. “If it was anyone else
she fucked with, I wouldn’t care, but it wasn’t. It was you…and that’s a
problem for me.”
She swallows hard. “Why is it a prob—”
She doesn’t get to finish her statement…because I crush my mouth
against hers.
Unlike our last kiss, this one isn’t meant to tease and taunt her.
This one is carnal, unrestrained. A bomb detonating.
I lick the seam of her lips, urging her to part them for me.
The moment she does, I slide my tongue inside, ripping her bullshit
contract to shreds.
I greedily explore every inch of her hot little mouth like a fiend. She
tastes like innocence and fire…an intoxicating combination if there ever was
one.
I might not remember our first kiss…but I’ll sure as fuck never forget this
one.
Sliding my hands down her back, I give her plump ass a firm squeeze.
“That’s why,” I rasp into her mouth before I edge away.
“Oh.” A small smile unfurls. “That’s a pretty good reason.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Pretty good?” I lean in. “Fuck that, I can do better
—”
She places her finger to my lips, stopping me. “Not so fast. As nice as
that moment was…it also complicates things.”
“How so?”
Once more, she gives me that you’re an idiot look. “We’re fake dating,
rem—”
“Are we?”
She’s the one who looks confused now. “Are we what?”
“Fake dating.”
There’s no way she can’t acknowledge this attraction between us.
As far as I’m concerned, the lines are blurred enough, we shouldn’t have
to define what’s real and what’s not.
Or maybe we should.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Are we fake dating?” I repeat.
She blinks. “Is this a trick question?”
“If I told you it was real…that I wanted it to be real between us…what
would you say?”
She looks uneasy. “I don’t…is that what you’re saying?”
The one and only thing my father ever taught me was to never show your
hand until the opposing party shows theirs.
I don’t want to play games with Sawyer, but I need to know what’s inside
her head.
Find out if she’s ready to test out the waters like I am.
“No. But if I was…what would your answer be?”
Blowing out a breath, she takes a few steps back. “I have no ide—”
“Don’t bullshit me, Bible Thumper.”
Her nostrils flare. “Okay, fine. If you told me you wanted us to date for
real, I’d probably tell you…” She lifts her gaze to mine. “That I’d need a lot
of time to think about it.”
She’s not saying no, but it’s not a yes either.
Smirking, I trace her lips with my thumb. “You’re late for class.”
Chapter 37
SAWYER
Sawyer: Wow, you don’t miss a thing. Gold star for you.
Cole: For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about yesterday. You’re right. Your
weight is none of my business.
Sawyer: Thank you.
I watch as the dots appear and disappear before they appear again.
Sawyer: I accept your apology.
Good, now maybe she’ll accept something else I want to give her.
Cole: Are you always so defensive when someone tries to give you a
compliment?
Sawyer: Only when it’s you.
Cole: How come?
Sawyer: Because we both know you don’t have an honest bone in your
body.
Cole: Trust me, I have a very honest bone, and he wants inside you.
Cole: But he’ll settle for other stuff if he has to.
Sawyer: Do you always talk about your cock in third person? It’s a little
weird.
Cole: Do you always deflect whenever the topic of sex comes up between
us?
Sawyer: I’m not deflecting. I’m just not interested in hooking up with you.
Thanks for the offer though.
Cole: We both know that’s a lie.
Sawyer: Whatever eases the sting and helps you sleep at night, champ.
I clench my teeth.
Cole: Who?
Sawyer: Are you kidding? The Beatles.
Cole: I’m sorry. I only listen to music from the last decade.
Sawyer: And that’s another reason we’d never work. You wouldn’t know
great music if it crawled out of your laptop and slapped your big head.
Cole: If I start listening to The Beatles will you hook up with me?
Sawyer: No. But I’ll have a lot more respect for your taste in music. Also,
since we’re on the subject of music, you should add some Nick Jonas to your
collection.
Cole: Sex.
Sawyer: That’s because we won’t be having any. Ever.
Cole: I’d be willing to wait until you’re ready. For the sex.
Sawyer: Awesome. How does forever sound?
Cole: Come on, Bible Thumper. You’re human, right? Don’t you have
needs? Not necessarily for sex, since you don’t know what you’re missing.
But you know…other stuff.
Sawyer: Awe. I appreciate your concern, but once again. I’m good.
Cole: Who?
Sawyer: Who what?
Cole: If your needs are being met, I deserve to know who the person meeting
them is, goddammit.
Bianca’s words from Christian’s party a few weeks ago hits me like a
brick to the head, but before I can ask, my phone lights up.
I’m about to tell her that’s not what I meant, but her next text takes me by
surprise.
Sawyer: But since you’re so concerned, I’ve been on the pill since I was
sixteen, so don’t worry your little heart about it.
Cole: I thought you were a virgin.
Sawyer: I am.
Cole: Then why are you on birth control?
Sawyer: Not that it’s any of your business, but I have terrible periods. Is
there anything else you’d like to ask me? Blood type? DNA results? Perhaps
my social security number?
Cole: Do you use your fingers or a vibrator?
Cole: Fingers, I bet. But only one…because you’re still a good little girl
saving herself for Jesus.
Sawyer: And I’ve officially checked out of this conversation.
I haven’t.
Cole: You probably wake up in the middle of the night with your hand inside
your panties, feeling so wet and horny you could scream. Wishing someone
was around to ease the ache. Someone who would lick and suck your little
clit until you came all over his face.
She doesn’t respond, but it doesn’t stop me from sending my next text.
Cole: Last night you got me off.
Sawyer: I beg your fucking pardon, jackass. I did no such thing.
Cole: Ah, but you did. You were all I could think about as I jerked it. Those
nice full lips stretched around my dick, sucking me deep and fast while I
played with your big titties…right before I shot my load all over them.
Sawyer: I don’t even know how to respond to that.
Cole: It was so fucking good, Sawyer. So fucking hot. You were perfect.
Sawyer: You can stop now. I get the point.
Cole: No, you don’t.
Making sure no one’s looking, I angle my phone toward my lap and snap
a picture of my dick swelling in my pants.
Then I press send.
Cole: Fine. Now that I know your limits, I won’t cross them…today. I just
need something nice to look at while I jerk it.
Sawyer: There’s this neat thing called porn. You should try it sometime.
Cole: I don’t want to look at porn. Porn isn’t you.
Cole: I’ll make this real simple. Meet me here in five. If you don’t, I’ll never
proposition you again. But if you do…
Sawyer: If I do…what?
I ’m only going there so I can inform him to his face we will never
hookup.
At least that’s what I tell myself as I excuse myself from class
and amble toward the girls’ locker room.
I can’t believe I told him I’ve never blown anyone before.
It was almost as shocking as what his dirty words were doing to me.
And my panties.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I’m a smart girl, I know better than to fall for this. Again.
Yet, here I am…pondering what it would be like to take another bite of
the apple.
Determination surges through me as I push open the door to the locker
room.
I have every intention of putting a stop to this and outlining in step-by-
step detail why this is a horrible idea…
But all the reasons disappear the second I see him.
Just like that day in the tattoo shop, he looks tortured…only this time,
there’s not a drop of sadness in his eyes.
There’s just hunger.
Pure, raw, animalistic need pulsing through the body of a God…who’s
headed straight for me.
A vulgar smile curves his mouth. “I knew you’d come.”
“I only came so I could—”
His mouth crashes against mine.
Oh, sweet Jesus. I have no idea what’s happening.
All I know is I’ve never experienced anything like this before.
It’s the kind of kiss that makes your knees go weak and puts your brain in
a blender.
The kind of kiss you touch yourself to in the middle of the night while
you think the dirtiest of thoughts.
The type of thoughts that make you pray extra hard in church the next
morning.
It’s the kind of kiss that makes it clear there’s no point in putting up a
fight…because I’ve already lost the battle between sinner and saint.
My mind spins as he grips my hips and pushes me against a set of
lockers.
“Colton.”
My eyes flutter closed as his lips travel to my neck.
Fuck him for knowing my weak spot.
Fuck him for the way he grabs my breast and groans…like it’s solely for
his pleasure.
Fuck him for all the dirty things he wants to do to my body.
And fuck me…for everything I’m going to let him get away with in this
locker room.
“More,” a voice that sounds a whole lot like mine moans.
Dropping to his knees, he buries his head in my chest.
I hiss as his mouth finds my nipple through my shirt. “Oh, God.”
My thighs clench when he moves on to the next one and I notice the wet
mark he left on the white fabric.
I dig my nails into his shoulders as he reaches for my buttons. “Take it
out.”
“Trust me, I am.” He tugs the cup of my bra down, exposing me. “Jesus
fucking Christ.”
Groaning, he sucks my nipple into his hot, wet mouth.
A surge of pleasure zips up my spine as he plumps my other breast in his
hand before licking and teasing that one too. “I meant your dick.” I swallow
hard. “I want to watch you.”
Voracious green eyes cut through me as he unbuttons the rest of my
blouse. “As long as I get to keep playing with these.” Hooking a finger in the
band of my bra, he snaps it against my skin. “Take it off, Bible Thumper.”
Reaching around, I unhook my bra and remove it.
I’ve never felt so vulnerable or defenseless. I expect his face to twist in
disgust when he sees my stomach, but it doesn’t.
His eyes darken as he stands up. “Do you have any idea how hot you look
right now?”
I want to ask if he’s joking, but he runs his palm over the huge erection
tenting his pants. “See what you do to me?”
There’s a confident gleam in his gaze as he unzips his pants.
I understand why when his dick springs out of his boxers.
Like the rest of him, it’s impressive…and uncharacteristically attractive.
It’s not a strange shape, there are no weird bends or colors…his generous
girth and width are proportionate to one another.
He’s perfect.
But for some strange reason…right now in this moment? He’s looking at
me like I’m the one who is.
My heart hammers in my chest as I watch him wrap his big hand around
his cock and give it a slow, teasing jerk.
Witnessing him doing something so wicked, so personal, is such a turn
on.
Like a naughty show I know I shouldn’t be watching but can’t seem to
turn away from.
Biting his lip, he comes closer. “Lick it.”
Nerves lodge in my throat. He promised he wouldn’t…
He holds up his hand. “Unless you’re too chicken.”
There’s a taunting bite to his tone…a challenge.
His little dare shouldn’t excite me, but it does.
Especially because I know exactly what he thinks about me.
He thinks I’m an innocent nerd…and he’s right.
But not right now.
Holding his gaze, I flick my tongue against the rough, calloused skin of
his palm.
His breathing hitches. “Fuck.”
With a grunt, he places his hand back on his cock, jacking himself hard
and fast.
Then he stops.
I watch in earnest as he circles the wide crown with his thumb, gathering
the small drop of fluid on it.
“Open.”
When I do, he slips his thumb inside my mouth.
I close my lips around it, sampling the salty flavor.
He places his free arm on the wall beside my head, sagging against me.
“Fucking hell.”
He slides his now wet thumb down my body, stopping at my nipple.
“I want to fuck them,” he rasps.
“Okay,” I whisper before I can stop myself.
He buries his face in my neck, like he’s defeated and lost all sense of self-
restraint. “Lay down on the bench.”
“Can I try something first?”
I don’t want this to be over without satisfying my curiosity.
He smirks. “You can try anything you want, Bible Thumper.”
Reaching between us, I curl my fingers around him. “I just needed to…
feel you.”
His breathing becomes labored as I move my hand up and down his
length. “You’re killing me.” His teeth graze my neck as I jack him faster.
“Feels so fucking good.” He places his hand on top of mine. “Too good.” He
nips my skin. “Get on the bench before I come all over your skirt.”
Nerves bunch in my stomach as I position myself on the bench.
Kneeling, he traces my cleavage with his tongue. “Christ. I love your
goddamn tits.”
Rising off the floor, he straddles the bench and situates himself over me.
“You okay?”
All I can do is give him a nod because I’m too focused on the way he’s
sliding his cock between my breasts.
“Push them together for me.” With a strangled grunt, he picks up the
pace. “Yeah. Just like that. So fucking good.”
Watching him lose control like this is electrifying.
I love the way his Adam’s apple bobs. The sound of his balls slapping my
skin. The way his face strains with every thrust.
But mostly…how he can’t keep his eyes off me.
I watch as pleasure moves across his face. “Fuck. I’m gonna come.”
It’s the only warning I get before there’s a long spurt of hot liquid. “Holy
fucking shit.” Thighs shaking, Cole jerks his dick one last time, shooting
another stream of cum on my boobs.
Wondering just how dirty and open minded he is, I collect some on my
finger and hold it up to him like an offering.
He raises an eyebrow. “You want me to taste myself?”
Biting my lip coyly, I nod.
There’s a wicked look in his eyes as his lips close around my finger.
“You’re full of surprises, Bible Thumper,” he muses as he pulls me into a
sitting position and drops to his knees. “And covered in my cum.”
I’m about to ask for a paper towel, but to my shock, he drags his tongue
over my nipples, licking some of the fluid off my tits.
It’s so wrong…so depraved.
His lips crash against mine, and he winds my ponytail in his hand.
When I cry out, he shoves his tongue inside my mouth, making me taste
and swallow it.
So ruthless.
And I’m so screwed…because I like it.
Chapter 40
COLE
S he starts to stand, but I halt her. “We still have ten minutes before
the bell rings.”
“I know. I should get dressed.”
Fuck that shit. If it was up to me, she’d never have a stitch of clothing
on.
“Not so fast.”
I slip my hand under her skirt.
Her eyes widen. “What are you—”
She bites her lip as I run my finger along the damp crotch of her panties.
Cotton. I was right.
“I don’t—”
“You want me to stop?”
“No…yes. I don’t know.” Huffing, she looks at the ceiling. “I’ve
never...you know.”
Goddammit. That shouldn’t turn me on so much. I hate virgins.
But just like everything else about her…it does.
“Don’t worry.” Nudging her thighs apart, I give her a wink. “I’ll only use
one finger.”
She smacks me on the arm. “Ass.”
Christ, she has no idea how beautiful she looks right now.
Sitting topless on a bench with me kneeling between her parted thighs.
Those big tits of hers still glistening from my cum.
My future wife should go ahead and divorce my ass now because I’m
gonna jerk off to this for the rest of my fucking life.
“I’ll be gentle.” I pull her panties to the side, running my knuckle over
smooth, bare skin. “You shave your pussy.”
I was fully prepared to find a forest down here.
Not that it would have deterred me. I’m pretty sure nothing could at this
point.
I love the way her cheeks redden. “Wax actually. It’s Dylan’s fault. She
was nervous to go her first time, so I offered to go with her and—”
The pad of my thumb skates over her clit.
My brother’s girlfriend is not the girl I want to be thinking and talking
about right now.
“It’s sexy.” Slowly, I push the tip of my finger inside her. “What do you
think about when you touch yourself?”
She inhales sharply. “That’s a really personal question.”
“We’re doing a really personal thing,” I remind her, sinking my finger
deeper.
“Nick Jonas,” she answers with a smirk.
God help the son of a bitch if I ever run into him.
“Ever think about me?” I ask, getting straight to the point.
“Once,” she admits.
“Just once?”
“Fine. Twice.”
I suspect it was more than that, but I’ll take it. “What did I do?”
“Nothing, actually. It was mostly me doing stuff to you.”
My cock perks up, but I ignore him. He had his turn before.
The next eight minutes and ten seconds are all about her.
I push my finger to the hilt, clenching my teeth as I feel her stretch
around me. I want to be inside her so bad I can fucking taste it.
“Christ. You’re so tight.”
Leaning forward, I pull one of her nipples into my mouth.
Mewling, she sucks in a sharp breath. I love that her nipples are sensitive,
because I sure as fuck love playing with them.
Almost as much as I love playing with her little pussy.
Pressing my heel against her clit, I begin pumping my finger inside her.
Her eyes flutter closed. “Fuck.”
“You like that?”
“Yeah—oh my God,” she breathes as I rub slow circles over her clit.
“That feels so good.”
“Kiss me,” I instruct. “Now.”
There’s something about the way she kisses that drives me out of my
goddamn mind.
She starts off tentative, teasing, almost like she’s gonna put up a fight.
And then the moment she lets me inside, it’s sweet surrender.
The kiss we’re having right now is no different. She’s coy…taunting.
Pretending like I can’t have what’s very clearly already mine.
I fucking love it.
I’d chase her around every square inch of the motherfucking earth if I had
to.
I nibble her bottom lip, demanding access. When she doesn’t give it right
away, I press down harder.
The minute she parts her lips, I shove my tongue inside and curl my
finger.
Hand on my cheek, she pants into my mouth. “Oh…Jesus. Shit.”
“Careful, Bible Thumper,” I tease. “He might hear you.”
She bites my mouth. Hard.
“Fuck.”
My hand is soaked. She’s almost there.
The only thing that’s missing is my mouth. But given I’m almost six-four
and already kneeling on the floor, I can’t get any lower.
I need easier access.
“Lay down.”
Defiance flashes in her eyes. “I’m not a dog, Covington.”
“Do it,” I urge. “Trust me.”
When she does, I place one of her legs behind my head.
My dick stirs to life. She’s pretty and pink and perfect.
“What are you doing?”
I slip my finger back inside her. “Ever had anyone suck your clit while
they finger fuck you?”
She blinks. “Um…I’ve never had anyone do any of those things
separately, let alone at the same time.”
“Well, today’s your lucky day, sweetness.”
I spread her open with my free hand and give her clit a slow, leisurely
lick.
She shudders. “Cole.”
She tastes like heaven…if heaven actually existed and was full of
supreme tasting pussy.
I close my mouth over the sensitive bud and make a suctioning tempo
with my mouth.
Her back bows and she grips a handful of my hair. “Holy shit. If you stop,
I swear to God, I’ll break up with you.”
I have to stifle a chuckle, but the humor is short lived because her eyelids
go heavy and she rocks her hips—which of course makes those beautiful tits
of hers jiggle.
She lets out a breathy moan. “I think I’m gonna come.”
She thinks?
Fuck that noise. She most definitely is.
Her orgasm surges through my fingers and her body breaks out in
shivers.
This girl’s been wound up so tight for so long it’s like watching a geyser
explode.
A startled, strangled sound leaves her as she clutches the bench, clamping
her pussy around me.
“That’s it, babe.” I plant a soft kiss on her still throbbing clit. “Let go.”
Her chest heaves as I lap at her climax.
“I told you not to call me babe,” she says after a minute, but there’s a lazy
smile on her face.
“You also told me we’d never hookup, but here we are.”
“I know.” She sighs. “This can’t be an everyday occurrence.”
“I’m fine with every two days.”
She gives me a pointed look. “I’m serious. I don’t want things to get
messy between us. But…”
“But what?” I ask as she sits up.
“But you’re right. We’re humans, and therefore have needs. I don’t see
the harm in taking care of each other every once in a while…as long as we’re
smart about it and don’t get attached.”
Hold the damn phone. Is she trying to booty call me?
Bending over, she picks up her shirt and bra off the floor. “For what it’s
worth, I’m glad it was you. It was surprisingly…”
“Amazing?” I offer. “Out of this world?”
“Not weird.” She chews on her bottom lip, pondering. “Comfortable.”
I try not to take offense, but it’s like telling a blind person to look at a
rainbow.
“You just came all over my face…and it was comfortable?”
“I don’t mean that in a bad way. At all. You’re really good at what you
do, Cole. And best of all, I didn’t feel creepy about it.”
“Gee thanks. Make sure to leave a review on Yelp.” I stand up. “What the
fuck, Sawyer?”
She begins buttoning up her shirt. “What?”
“Comfortable isn’t what a man wants to hear after hooking up with
someone.”
“Oh.” She waggles her eyebrows. “You were the best I ever had, big
daddy. Better?”
I fucking hate her annoying ability to insult me and make me want to
laugh at the same time.
“Not even a little.”
She tucks her blouse into her skirt. “I don’t want to fight.”
“Then stop being an asshole.”
Her mouth drops open. “Did you just call me an asshole?”
“I’m sorry.” I flash her some teeth. “I meant—comfortable asshole.”
And then it happens…she starts laughing.
And her laughter is so contagious…I can’t help but join her.
I’m so fucked.
Chapter 41
SAWYER
Crap.
Oakley promised Scott he wouldn’t tell anyone the truth because he
doesn’t want to get replaced. Evidently, the kid has dreams of being a mascot
for the big leagues one day, and he thinks not mascoting, or whatever it’s
called, for the last games of the season will leave some kind of blemish on his
permanent record.
Which means I can’t tell anyone I’m Izzy.
Not even Cole.
Which really sucks because tonight’s game is a big one.
Whoever wins will go on to play in the championship bowl.
I don’t want Cole to think I don’t support him.
Not to mention that as his girlfriend, it’s pretty much expected I attend his
games.
Fortunately, I’ve figured out a plan.
As long as Cole doesn’t throw the winning touchdown and the Knights
don’t score three minutes before the game ends like last time…I won’t have
to go on the field and dance with the cheerleaders.
I can sneak away in time to change and then come back and act like I saw
the whole game as Sawyer.
Cole will be happy I was there, and I’ll still be keeping my promise to a
ninth grade boy with a bad case of mono.
I blow out a breath.
It’s tough having a secret identity. I’m starting to have a whole new
appreciation for Superman.
I’m about to walk out, but the door opens.
“Stop ignoring me,” Bianca snaps.
I slink back into the lab closet.
“I’m not ignoring you,” Oakley says. “I’ve been busy.”
“Yeah, busy with Morgan and Hayley.”
“Well, from what I’ve been hearing, you’ve been busy with Hayley too.”
“Aw, are you jealous?” Bianca taunts. “Good. Maybe now you know how
it feels.”
Oakley sighs. “I told you—”
“Shut up,” she hisses. “We’re still at school. Someone might overhear
us.”
Yes, someone might. What the actual fuck is going on?
On second thought…I’m not so sure I want to know the answer.
“I’ll come over tonight after Cole goes to sleep,” she says. “We can talk
then.”
Talk about what?
“No,” Oakley grunts. “There is nothing to talk about. Whatever you think
is going on in your sick, twisted, fucked-up psycho little head is wrong.”
Jesus, Oak. A little harsh.
“You know what?” Bianca says. “You’re right. I’ll just make sure to tell
my dad you’re selling drugs out of his guesthouse, and that one night you and
his daughter—”
“I told you. That night was a mistake.”
Oh no. Bad Oakley. Bad.
First his stepmom. Now Bianca.
It’s like his dick has a preference for girls who are totally wrong for him.
Jace and Cole will literally kill him for this.
And that’s not even taking Dylan into account.
I feel faint.
I can’t breathe.
But mostly? I really wish I hid out in the library.
“But you—” Bianca tries to say, but Oakley cuts her off again.
“Get it through your thick skull, kid. I don’t want you. I will never want
you, and I sure as hell will never fuck you. Doesn’t matter if you’re sixteen or
one hundred and sixteen. As far as I’m concerned, you’re Satan in a dress.
The only reason I tolerate you is because of your brothers.”
Wow, dude. I understand you need to end things, but could you be more
of a dick?
“But—” Bianca starts to say.
“Go ahead and tell your daddy. Tell your brothers. Tell the fucking po-po
I’m selling drugs for all I care. You can’t manipulate me into fucking you,
because it ain’t never gonna happen.”
Well, damn.
“And the next time you crawl into my bed while I’m sleeping, I’m calling
Morgan and letting her deal with you. Got it?”
Good Lord. Bianca went full-blown fatal attraction on his ass.
“You’re such an asshole,” Bianca chokes out.
Oh, man. Truth be told, I didn’t think the girl was capable of feeling
emotions.
Well, other than anger and manipulation.
“Just so you know, the night I snuck into your guesthouse was the
anniversary of Liam’s death. I went there looking for you because Jace was
busy with Dylan, Cole never wants to talk about him, and my dad is never
home.” Her voice cracks. “I miss him so much…but no one cares.” She
draws in a shaky breath. “You were always so nice and understanding. And
no matter what I told you, you never judged me for it. I thought I was safe
with you, Oakley. Until that night.”
“I didn’t—”
“It doesn’t matter.” She clears her throat. “But since you’ve obviously
forgotten. It was you who kissed me. Not the other way around.”
“I didn’t know—”
“Yeah, I know. You thought I was Hayley. Or Morgan. Or whatever bitch
you thought you brought home while you were high off your ass that night.
Sorry it was just the psycho kid sister of your friends who needed a shoulder
to cry on so she wouldn’t drown herself in the fucking pool.”
My heart squeezes. It’s all I can do not to run right out there and hug her.
“Bianca—”
I hear the sharp smack of skin against skin. “Leave me alone.”
Oakley tries to speak again, but Bianca isn’t having it.
“No.” A small grunt escapes her, like she’s trying to physically push him
away, but can’t. “Don’t fucking touch me. Leave.”
A moment later, the classroom door slams shut…at the same time my
phone vibrates with another text from Cole.
Cole: Are you mad at me again? Or do I need to start a search party because
someone kidnapped you?
Sawyer: No. Sorry, I was studying. I’ll be at the game. Promise.
“You can come out of the closet now, Sawyer,” Bianca snaps. “Or should
I say…Izzy.”
Shit.
“How did you know?” I say, taking a few tentative steps.
“Because Scott has mono and I overheard that idiot Morgan tell Casey
that Oakley was filling in for him. Only, Oakley is six foot one and Scott is
five foot six. The costume won’t fit him.”
“Oh. But how did you know it was me?”
“Scott doesn’t jump up like a Jack in the Box whenever my brother’s on
the field. He also doesn’t ogle his ass the entire time.”
Fair enough.
Now that we got that out of the way.
“Look, I overheard what happened. I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be.” She laughs callously. “God, you thought that was real?” She
rolls her eyes. “I was just fucking with him because I was pissed he dissed
me.”
She puts on a good act, but I can’t help but feel her bravado is all a show
right now.
She must have learned it from Cole.
Those big brown eyes sharpen like razor blades. “But just so we’re clear,
if you ever tell anyone what you overheard, you can kiss your relationship—
fake or otherwise—with my brother goodbye.” She gets uncomfortably close
to my face. “Because I’ll tear your heart right out of your goddamn chest and
eat it for a snack. Got it?”
Devil in a dress? Sounds about right.
“I won’t tell a soul.”
“Good.” She gives me a sugary sweet smile. “Now tell Izzy to get his ass
in gear. Casey wants us out on the field in five.”
With that, she heads for the door.
“Bianca.”
She makes no move to turn around. “What?”
“If you ever need someone to talk to…I’m here.”
“Jesus Christ. Stop being such a suck up, Church. Despite only being a
five, my brother somehow managed to fall for you. Congratu-fucking-
lations.”
Chapter 42
COLE
air.
I’m so excited I jump up and down, pumping my fist in the
It’s only when I notice Cole looking toward the stands with a sad
expression on his face that I realize…
He’s looking for me.
It’s a good thing I’m wearing a giant stupid knight head because I’m most
definitely frowning as I join the cheerleaders.
My sprinkler is barely a sprinkle…and the moment I’m done, I run off the
field.
I’m halfway to the chemistry lab to change into my regular clothes when
my phone rings.
Cole’s name flashes across the screen.
Shit.
“Hey,” I say when I pick up. “Great game.”
“How would you know?” he questions.
“Duh. I was there, silly. I saw everything. You were amaz—”
“Jace said he never saw you.”
Dammit. That rat bastard. This is what I get for rooting for him and
Dylan…even when he was an asshole to her.
“That’s because he didn’t…I didn’t sit with him. It was so packed.”
“There was an empty seat right next to him and Dylan.”
I open my mouth to tell him the truth, but I can’t.
I told Oakley I’d keep his secret, and I’m not the type of person who goes
back on her word.
I’ll just have to track Oakley down and have him tell Scott that I’m
spilling the beans to Cole.
In the meantime, I have to tell a little white lie.
“I’m sorry, Cole. My boss called me into work the second I got to the
game. There was an emergency and—”
“Why didn’t you just tell me that?”
“I should have,” I admit. “I just didn’t want you to be mad.”
“I’m not mad at you, Sawyer. Disappointed you didn’t come…sure. But I
get it. Your boss is a dick.”
“Trust me, you have no idea.”
“What time do you get off?”
“Huh? Oh, you mean work…right. Eleven. Why?”
“Want to go to Christian’s with me later? I can pick you up. Or…we can
do something else if you want.” I start to answer him, but then he says, “I
don’t mean sex. Although I wouldn’t mind sex. I just want to see you…I
don’t give a fuck what we do.”
Hold the phone. “Was that your way of asking me out on a date?”
“Maybe.” He clears his throat. “Actually, you know what? It fucking was.
Got a problem with it, Church?”
“I can’t seem to think of one, Covington.”
“Good. I’ll see you at eleven.”
With that, he hangs up the phone.
Chapter 44
COLE
I should have taken it as a sign this was a bad idea the moment I
walked in and saw him at the counter.
Stone DaSilva.
Tommy’s little brother.
Beside me, Bianca tenses up. “I didn’t know she worked with him.”
Me either.
You’d think she would have said something.
Granted, it’s Stone, not Tommy.
Not that it matters…much.
They still have the same venomous killer blood pumping through their
system.
The look on his face when he spots us tells me he doesn’t like us being
here any more than we like seeing him.
He throws his towel on the counter. “What do you want?”
“Wow,” Bianca says mockingly. “You’d think we weren’t welcome
here.”
“You’re not.”
Bianca looks at me. “You know, I’m a little insulted by his lack of
hospitality.”
Me too.
“Who says we’re not welcome, dipshit?” Snorting, I look around. “Your
family eats cockroaches for dinner. I highly doubt you own this place.”
His jaw works. “If you’re looking for Tommy, he left town.”
“Then it’s a good thing we’re not looking for that murdering piece of
fucking shit.” Bianca knocks over a pitcher of water. “Isn’t it?”
He folds his arms across his chest. “Look, I highly doubt a bunch of rich
prissies like you are here for the food, so why don’t you just cut to the
chase.”
“We’re here to see his girlfriend.” Bianca flutters her fingers. “So why
don’t you be a good little bitch and run along and get Sawyer for us.”
He barks out a laugh. “No, seriously. Why the fuck are you here?”
I lean in. “Did she stutter, asshole?”
“Nah, man.” He winks. “That was your brother, remember?”
Anger brews in the pit of my stomach and I fist the collar of his shirt.
“You have about two seconds to tell me where the fuck my girlfriend is
before I break your teeth on this countertop.”
Coughing, he chokes out, “Sawyer isn’t here.”
“Bullshit,” I seethe, tightening my grip.
Sawyer doesn’t lie.
“It’s true,” he insists. “I usually work in the back, but she asked me to
cover her shift tonight so she could go to the football game at her school.”
Bianca makes a face. “On second thought…he’s right. Sawyer was
definitely at the game.”
“No, she wasn’t. She told me she got called into work.”
She holds up a finger. “I’ll be right back…I just need to make a quick
phone call.”
She runs outside before I can stop her.
What the hell is going on?
Why the fuck would Sawyer lie to me?
“No!” some older man with a broom in his hand shouts. “You out.
Now!”
Releasing my hold on Stone, I turn to look at him. “I’m sorry, pal. Who
the fuck are you?”
He stomps his foot. “This is my place.”
It all hits me in one big wave.
Bianca telling me about Sawyer and her boss.
Sawyer lying about being at the game.
Her boss calling her before her shifts, demanding she come in early so he
could see her.
Stone covering for her by telling me she went to the game and she wasn’t
here…even though she confessed she was here.
Bianca running outside to make a phone call…most likely warning her.
For fuck’s sake, he’s old enough to be her father. Hell, maybe even her
grandfather.
“You’re Sawyer’s boss.”
It’s not a question. I don’t have time for those. I’m already stepping
toward the disgusting old man like a vulture descending on its prey.
He opens his mouth to speak, but doesn’t get the chance.
I wind my fist back and launch it into his face. “You sick perverted,
motherfucker.”
Chapter 45
SAWYER
I scan the party for Cole the second we walk through the door.
I don’t find him, but I do spot Bianca dancing with Hayley.
“Hey. Where’s your brother?”
Her eyes become saucers. “You’re here. Why? I told you not to come.”
“I need to see Cole.”
She laughs nervously. “Not tonight you don’t. Trust me.”
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out something is seriously wrong.
“What’s going on?”
“He’s…having a bit of a rough night. And if he was sober—which he
most definitely is not—I really don’t think he’d want you to see him like
this.”
My chest tightens. “Why?”
Grabbing my wrist, she drags me off the makeshift dance floor. “Please
don’t put me in a position where I have to choose between my brother and
my friend, because it won’t end well for you.”
“I don’t understand—”
“Go home, Sawyer. Trust me.” She looks down. “And when you get to
school on Monday, try to ignore the rumors.”
My stomach flips. “What rumors?”
She holds my gaze. “My brother has feelings for you. But right now, he’s
drunk and hurting. Being a stupid boy—”
The queasy feeling in my stomach gets worse. “Where is he?”
She shakes her head. “No. I won’t—”
“He’s out back in the hot tub,” Cortland interjects with a smile. “You
should probably go check on him before he drowns.”
“What?”
Pushing past them, I rush out the patio doors.
The organ in my chest shatters like glass when I see him.
Or rather…them.
Cole’s eyes are closed and his head is resting against the ledge. There is a
large cup in his hand and a few empty bottles scattered around the outside of
the tub.
But that’s not the worst of it.
The worst of it is straddling him as she nuzzles her face into his neck.
Her string bikini—if it even qualifies as one—is barely hanging on.
“Drowning in Casey’s pussy,” Cortland shouts behind me.
A few people laugh.
“You’re such a piece of shit, Cortland,” Bianca snaps.
Picking up a bottle off the deck, she flings it. It crashes against the side of
the tub.
“Wake up, idiot. Your girlfriend is here.”
That rouses him.
“Oh, hey, babe,” Cole slurs, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “You
should come in and join us…the water feels great.”
“I don’t want that fat heifer anywhere near me,” Casey shrieks.
Cole pushes her off him. “You’re one to talk, skank. Have you seen
yourself lately?” He staggers out of the tub. “When I walked in, I thought you
were pregnant…but then I realized no one here wants to fuck you anymore.”
Bianca starts laughing, and everyone joins her.
But it’s not funny. It’s sad and pathetic.
“Fuck this.” I glower at him. “Fuck you.”
I turn to go back inside.
“Come on, Bible Thumper,” Cole slurs. “Don’t be like that. Have a little
fun with your boyfriend.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to correct him, but there’s still a part of me
that cares about the ass too much to do it.
I quicken my steps.
“Come on, babe,” he taunts, chasing me into the house. “There are all
these people around. That’s exactly what you wanted, right?”
What the hell is he talking about?
I spin around to face him. “What—”
“Don’t act like I don’t know the real reason you’re dating me.” He thrusts
his cup, sloshing some of the amber liquid over the rim. “Hell, everyone here
knows why someone like you is dating me.”
Hands on my hips, I stare him down. “Oh, really? Well, go ahead,
Covington. Enlighten me.”
If he wants to put an end to this, I won’t stand in his way.
It’s his loss.
“Because I am me,” he states, wobbling. “And you…are you.”
“Wow, way to really clear things up, champ.”
Surprisingly, a few people laugh.
“Oh, look at that. Sawyer’s finally getting some attention.” He takes a sip
of his drink. “Come on, everyone. Give her what she wants.”
I have no idea where any of this is coming from.
I’m not dating him to get attention.
“It’s like you don’t even know me.”
He taps his head with his free hand. “Oh, but I do.” He steps closer.
“Everyone here can see you for what you really are…everyone except you.”
“Oh, yeah? What am I?”
He titters, trying to get his balance. “An attention whore. A crazy,
dramatic, good-doer crybaby asshole who always needs the spotlight.” He
points a finger in my face. “And you know what? I don’t fucking like you.
No one likes you. It’s why everyone bullies you.” His eyes glaze over. “You
know what else? I’m better than you. Always have been. Always fucking will
be.” He punches his chest. “Because I’m alive and free…and you’re nothing
but a fake coward who will never be good enough.”
“Cole,” Bianca yells. “Shut the fuck up.”
I clutch my stomach. I’m trying really hard not to take offense to the
things he’s saying because he’s clearly drunk out of his mind…but his words
burn.
No, more than that. They sear my goddamn soul.
It’s like he pulled out my worst fears and darkest thoughts and put them
on display for everyone to see.
“So why don’t you do me a favor!” he yells to the ceiling. “And stop
fucking torturing me so I can live my life!”
I didn’t realize he felt suffocated by our…whatever we are. Were.
“I didn’t—”
“What’s that, Bible Thumper?” he questions. “You got something to
say?”
I clamp my mouth shut. He’s so drunk nothing I say will make one bit of
difference now.
“You think you’re so special, don’t you?” He looks around the room.
“But ladies and gentlemen…don’t let my innocent angel fool you. She, too, is
nothing but a liar.”
My cheeks flame. “I didn’t lie to you because I wanted to hurt you.”
He skims my cheek with his thumb. “No, of course not. You just showed
your true colors is all.” His grin is cruel. “And now…I’m showing you
mine.”
These aren’t true colors…this is someone getting drunk to escape
something he can’t handle.
If anyone is the coward, it’s him.
“That’s it. I’m calling Jace,” Bianca tells him.
“Please do,” Cole taunts. “Trust me, I’d love for him to hear this. Maybe
he’ll get another tattoo to commemorate the special occasion.”
Oakley steps forward. “You’re drunk.”
“And you’re a lame pothead who likes to fuck MILFs. Thank you for
stating the obvious for everyone. We all appreciate it.”
Cortland laughs. “Man, I think I like drunk Cole.”
I most definitely don’t.
Cole flashes some teeth. “Do you, bud?” He places his hand over his
heart. “Well, thank you, pencil dick. It’s truly an honor to be liked by a
nobody.”
He turns his attention back to me. “Look, Sawyer. It’s our guy—”
I slap my hand over his mouth. “Be quiet, Cole.”
He taps my nose. “You’re so damn cute, you know that?”
Jesus. From one end of the spectrum to the other.
“And you have fantastic tits. Best I’ve ever seen, in fact. And trust me.
I’ve seen a lot.”
I’m positively mortified when a few guys howl.
He tries to put his arm around me, but I move out of the way.
“Oh, Bible Thumper. Don’t be shy. Give daddy a little taste.”
Oakley shoves him away. “That’s enough. This isn’t you, Cole.”
“You’re right.” He takes another sip of his drink. “It’s not. Because Cole
sucks.” He looks around the room at everyone. “Lucky Seven is who you
bitches want. Am I right?”
A few people cheer.
“Look, babe.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Your boyfriend is the shit.”
“More like a shithead,” I tell him.
“Burn,” some guy calls out.
Cole, not taking well to being mocked himself, scowls. “Is that right,
Sawyer Grace?” He slaps his leg. “Well, yeehaw…why don’t we have a little
showdown and let the court of public opinion decide?”
God, I actually pity him right now. He has no idea how much he’s
embarrassing himself.
He grabs his crotch and swivels his hips. “How many girls here want
Lucky Seven?”
Every girl but me and Bianca react.
“Take it off,” one girl shouts.
“Take it out,” another one says.
“All right settle down, bitches. It’s Sawyer’s turn.”
“Please don’t do this,” I whisper. “You’ve made your point.”
“No. I don’t think I have.”
“You did. Everyone wants you. I get it.”
Something passes in his hazy eyes. “That’s not the point I was trying to
make.” He slaps his leg again. “Which means, it’s on to round two.” He
gestures to me. “How many guys here want my Sawyer?”
I literally want to crawl in a hole and die when you can hear a pin drop.
“Come on,” Cole yells. “What the fuck is the matter with you bastards?”
He cups a hand over his mouth. “How many guys here want Sawyer?”
No one says a word.
“Goddamn sheep,” he seethes. “None of you will ever be good eno—”
“I do.”
Before I can blink, Oakley cups my face.
Right before he kisses me.
Chapter 48
SAWYER
“O kay, but if I let you go to class, you’re having lunch with me.”
Those baby brown eyes harden. “No.”
“Dinner then.”
She makes a face. “Not happening.”
Giving her my sexiest smile, I run a finger down her arm. “Dessert?”
Her nostrils flare. “Move.”
“Fine.” Leaning in, I whisper, “Go to class, Bible Thumper. But this is far
from over.”
She mumbles something I don’t catch under her breath.
I wait until she’s halfway down the hall. “One more thing, Sawyer.”
She stops walking. I can practically see the anger rolling off her. “What?”
“You look beautiful today.”
Truth is she always looks beautiful, but I want everyone to hear me say it.
She quickly scurries inside a classroom.
Casey and Morgan exchange a glance as they pass me.
“Wow, someone’s whipped,” Morgan says.
“He’s only whipped because he made a bet with someone on the football
team.” Casey looks at me. “As soon as he’s done with the fat pig, he’ll come
crawling back.”
The fuck I will.
“Don’t hold your breath, you rancid cunt.”
Shooting me a dirty look, they both run off.
“Today went better than yesterday,” Oakley notes. “At this rate, you
should have your girl back in say, ten to twenty years.” He slaps my shoulder.
“Give or take.”
“I don’t know what else to do.”
I’ve already done everything I can think of. All the typical shit girls love.
To be honest, I really thought the Nick Jonas bullshit was gonna be a
slam dunk, but evidently not.
“That’s because you’re not paying attention,” Oakley says as he starts
walking down the hall.
He motions for me to join him. “Stop thinking about the three Ps and start
listening to what your girl is saying.”
“What she’s saying is to leave her alone,” I bark. “And that’s not
happening. Ever.”
“Relax, killer. What I meant is, what her heart is saying. Chicks have this
weird way of telling you what they need without really telling you…you feel
me?”
No. I fucking don’t. “How so?”
“When you snuck into her room. What was the last thing she said to you
before you left?”
“She told me to go.”
He shakes his head. “Before that.”
“That I only wanted her back because of the bet.”
“And what did you say to that?”
“I told her it wasn’t true and I would fix it.”
“Do you really think you’ve done that so far?”
I glare at him. “Obviously not. But between the flowers, the candy—”
“Look, the solution to your problem is a very simple one, my friend.”
Walking backward, he opens his arms wide. “You have to give her something
real.”
Chapter 53
SAWYER
I press down on the ivory keys, filling the church with the chords
from “Counting Blue Cars” by Dishwalla.
It’s a new one for me, but the second Dylan played it, I fell in
love.
I live for the kind of music that makes you ponder the meaning of life
while making your soul feel alive.
Which is exactly why I decided to strip it down. Not only does it heighten
the emotion of the song, it makes it easier to soak in each word.
Doing a quick glance around to make sure the church is empty, I open my
mouth.
Normally it takes me weeks to memorize sheet music, but not this time.
This time it’s as though every note comes straight from my heart.
I close my eyes, letting the song take me away.
When I reach the chorus, I hold nothing back. My vibrato emanates from
the tips of my toes, reverberating through the walls.
“Jesus Christ…your voice,” Cole says.
I croak mid-lyric and my fingers slip on the keys.
“What the he—” I catch myself. “What are you doing here?”
In a church of all places.
His shoulders rise in a shrug. “Figured this is where I’d find you.” He
grins. “I was right.”
I’m seriously regretting coming here before choir practice now.
Not taking the hint that I want him gone, he walks over to the first pew
and sits. “I didn’t know you played piano…or sang. Especially like that.”
“It’s nothing.”
There are far better musicians and singers out there. In fact, I hardly even
consider myself one.
But I can’t focus on that right now. I’m too concerned about why he’s
here. “Did you need something?”
He looks around. “It’s a little smaller than I imagined, but it’s nice.” His
lips twitch. “You know, for a church.”
I try again. “Is there something I can help you with?”
He stretches his arm across the pew. “Do you think God is a her?”
“Huh?”
“The song.”
“Oh.” I highly doubt he came here seeking spiritual enlightenment, but I
indulge him anyway. “I suppose anything is possible. There are all sorts of
different religions out there. Some even have multiple gods.”
He leans back, assessing me. “You mean to tell me you’re actually
admitting another religion may have it right, and there’s a chance your people
got it wrong?”
“My people?”
“Christians. Jesus lovers.”
“I love Jesus, but it doesn’t mean everyone else has to.”
“That isn’t what I asked you.”
There’s an edge to his tone, but I’m not insulted.
Despite my frustration with him, I like that he’s asking questions instead
of assuming.
Therefore, I give him the truth. My truth.
“Just because I have my own beliefs regarding God doesn’t mean I can’t
respect the fact that other people have theirs.” I shrug. “At the end of the day,
we're all just trying to get to the same place, right? Who am I to judge?”
“What about those who don’t believe at all?”
I rub my palms on my skirt. “I carry a heaviness in my heart for them.”
His green eyes gleam in challenge. “Because they don’t believe what you
do?”
“Because it must be awfully hard to have the weight of the world rest
solely on your shoulders every day.” I look him right in the eyes. “But no
matter my personal beliefs, I would never try to convert someone, nor tell
them they were wrong for not believing. I’m sure they have their reasons for
it…just like I have mine.”
He stares at me for the better part of a minute before he speaks. “There is
no one in the world like you, Sawyer.”
My heart folds in on itself. I hate that he’s looking at me like I’m the most
fascinating thing he’s ever encountered.
But not nearly as much as I hate the way my heart kicks up whenever he’s
in the room…
And the deep, dull ache in my chest whenever he’s gone.
Like my soul is attuned to him and only him.
“Look, I don’t think you came here to debate religion,” I say, trying to
put some distance between us.
“You’re right.” Walking over to the piano, he pulls out an envelope. “I
came here to give you this.”
“If it’s another present—”
“It’s not a present.” He hands it to me. “Promise.”
Baffled, I open it.
A weird combination of surprise and despondency tangle in my chest
when I see the check made out for ten-grand.
“I can’t accept this.”
Not only would it feel wrong, I don’t want him to think his donation will
persuade me to uphold my end of the contract.
As far as I’m concerned, our fake relationship is real over.
“I had a feeling you’d say that.” His features harden. “Take the money,
Church. You earned it.”
I hold it out to him. “Hardly.”
We were barely even together.
And yet? It felt like my entire world ended the night he got drunk.
God, I loathe all these conflicting feelings I have regarding him.
One second I want to punch him, and the next I want to launch myself
into his arms and go back to when things were good between us.
But mostly? I just want to know what caused the events of that night.
Why he got so blackout drunk and said all those brutal things.
How he can be so open and blunt one minute…but so closed off the next.
What he’s trying to escape from.
If he sincerely regrets hurting me…or if it’s all just another part of Lucky
Seven’s act.
He crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m allowed to donate money to
whatever organization I want, Sawyer. If you don’t accept it, I’ll just give it
to your uncle myself.”
Stubborn ass.
“Fine,” I concede. “I’ll give it to my uncle.” Whatever gets him going.
“Anything else?”
“Yeah.” A muscle in his jaw bunches. “I fucking miss you…a lot.”
“Co—”
“You don’t have to say anything back. I just wanted you to know.”
I peer at his hand. The bruises and scrapes are starting to fade. “Hopefully
your hand doesn’t interfere with the big game.”
He doesn’t look too worried about it. “I’ll manage.”
We awkwardly stare at each other until I break eye contact. “Thanks for
stopping by—”
“I don’t like this.”
“What?”
“The small talk that’s happening now. The awkwardness.” The groove in
his forehead deepens. “It’s not us.”
I start to tell him there is no us, but the door opens and people start
shuffling inside.
“Choir practice,” I tell him.
His brows furrow. “Can we talk after?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” The organ in my chest protests. Stupid
traitor. “I have a lot of schoolwork to catch up on.”
He looks like he wants to argue, but he simply gives me a quick nod
before taking off.
“Who was that?” Amanda asks after he leaves.
“My boy—” I stop myself. “Just a guy I go to school with.”
A guy who’s still holding my heart in the palm of his big hand.
Chapter 54
SAWYER
M y team’s chants bounce off the walls as they rush into the
locker room in one giant tidal wave. “Izzy! Izzy! Izzy!”
I swallow a laugh. I knew they’d find the little fucker
sooner or later.
The clock on the wall snags my attention. Coach will be coming out of
his office any second.
Time to focus.
I eye Dwight and Lennox, who are still enthusiastically bouncing Izzy on
their shoulders. “Put Izzy down.”
As if on cue, Coach Stalter yells, “All right. All right. Everybody touch
somebody!” He claps his hands. “It’s time for our quarterback to lead us in
prayer.”
Damn how I hate this part.
The irony of a non-believer leading the team in prayer before every game
isn’t lost on me.
I snort. If only Sawyer was here to witness this.
If only I didn’t fuck up everything and make her hate my fucking guts.
“Something funny, Covington?” Coach barks.
“Yeah,” I shout, covering up my fumble. “How badly we’re going to kick
the Viking’s asses today!”
Everyone erupts in cheers and howls.
“Okay, okay, settle down!” he growls after a minute. “Take it away,
Covington.”
“Dear, Lord,” I begin.
I may not believe in the almighty, but I believe in my team.
I believe in this sport.
And when I’m out on that field…I believe in myself.
“As we approach the big game, we ask that you be there to guide us
through every move and be there to celebrate every touchdown with us.”
I draw in a deep breath. “May our feet be swift, may our muscles never
tire…and may we never run out of hope and determination as we crush the
Vikings into dust today. We are grateful for you, for the people in the stands
who came to see us play, for our coach who never gives up on us…and for
every single player on this team that I’ve had the honor of sharing the field
with these past four years. Last season was a rough one, but please…help us
bring home the championship this time.” Glancing up at the ceiling, I utter,
“Lord knows, we’ve fucking earned it.”
I look around at my teammates, even Cortland, the fucker.
Because every quarterback worth a damn knows he’s only as good as the
team he has behind him. “Amen.”
The room erupts in cheers. Well, except Izzy, who’s still praying.
Hey, whatever works.
“Damn, Covington,” Dwight drawls. “That was beautiful.”
Coach clears his throat. “Well, shit. I don’t know how the hell we can
lose after that.”
“We’re not going to,” I rumble.
“Damn straight,” Lennox shouts.
“Fuck, yeah!!” Dwight yells.
Coach starts motioning to the door. “Well, you can’t beat ‘em if you’re
not on the field to play, now can you? Get your asses out there.”
The muscles in my chest draw tight. “Actually, I need another minute.”
This is the last time we’ll all be in the locker room together, so it’s now or
never.
It sucks that it’s come down to this, but I told her I would fix this.
And I fucking meant it.
Chapter 56
SAWYER
A slow surge of anger fills my veins as I watch Todd Harris throw his
fourth touchdown of the game.
Half the people in the stands go nuts, and the two scouts I spot
from Duke’s Heart start furiously scribbling on their notepads.
He pumps his fist in the air, dancing like he’s already won. The bastard.
With only two minutes left in the game, they kick the extra point, making
the score thirty to twenty-seven. Coach Stalter looks like he wants to puke…
two minutes isn’t a lot of time.
He’s ready to accept defeat.
I’m not.
Lennox looks at me with remorse in his eyes as he walks off the field.
However, it’s not the defense’s fault we’re losing this game.
It’s the offense…specifically me.
My gaze wanders over to Izzy—Sawyer.
I had no idea. Although I probably should have guessed last week. Izzy’s
never been one to drop to his knees in the middle of a game to start praying.
My chest coils. She saw me.
“You ready, man?” Dwight drawls.
Cortland snorts. “Man, first he steals our QB’s girlfriend, then he steals
our championship. Might as well bend over. Cole. You’re fucked.”
A swell of determination rises within me. “Nah. Fuck that.”
Todd might screw my ex, poach my offer from Duke’s, and win the
game…
But if I’m going down…I’m going down fucking swinging.
I’ll bleed my goddamn black heart out for this sport.
My stare veers to Sawyer again. For her.
“We’re not going out like a bunch of pussies.” Grabbing the front of
Dwight’s helmet, I crack mine against his. “You with me?”
He grins. “Fuck yeah!”
I clap my hands. “Let’s do this.”
We start our steady march down the field. I can tell Coach is playing
scared, sending in one run play after another. He doesn’t trust me to pass,
afraid I’m going to choke in the clutch. Fuck that. I’m Cole fucking
Covington and I am clutch.
We still have half the field to go and a glance at the scoreboard reminds
me we have less than a minute to play.
Less than a minute left in my high school football career. I’m not going
out like a sucker.
My eyes find Izzy, down on her knees again, and I have to smile.
Keep praying, Bible Thumper, but I got this.
Ignoring the play our running back just brought in from the sidelines, I
call my own. Dwight runs his slant route perfectly, never breaking stride as
my pass falls right into his hands. He heads toward the end zone, but their
safety is lightning fast and manages to take him down from behind on the
nine-yard line.
I hear Coach screaming for a timeout, our last, and I look to see how
much time is left.
Ten seconds. One play.
All or nothing.
We head to the sidelines and Coach gets in my face.
“Don’t pull that shit again, Covington. And don’t push me. Duke’s Heart
won’t take you without my recommendation. Am I clear?”
Fuck. “Yeah, Coach. Loud and clear.”
He diagrams the play and sends us back out onto the field. It won’t
fucking work. I know it won’t. I’ve been watching their linebackers all night
and they’re smart. If I run Coach’s play, we lose.
I don’t fucking lose.
“Huddle up.” I call the offense together once we’re back on the field... an
unusual move after a timeout. Their confusion is replaced with apprehension
when I call a new play.
“Zero right Y jet knightmare on one.”
“Cole, that’s not what Coach—”
“Zero right Y jet knightmare on one. You got this, Dwight?”
He looks around the circle, then at me. “We got this, man.”
I look every player in the eye before I ask, “Are you with me?”
Their affirmative growls are exactly what I expected to hear.
“Our entire season comes down to this play, boys. Let’s have some fun.”
I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.
Except her.
My team runs up to the line of scrimmage and I line up in the shotgun
formation, alone in the backfield. I watch their safeties and linebackers shift
now that they know we’re going to pass. I hear Coach screaming in the
distance, but I ignore it. We’re out of timeouts, so he can’t stop this.
The guy needs to relax.
“Ready. Set,” I call out, my voice carrying over the noise of the crowd. I
stomp my foot, sending Dwight in motion. Just as he passes behind the left
guard, I call, “Hike.”
The defense is caught by surprise when the ball is snapped directly to
Dwight, who takes off toward the right end of the line. I watch and wait…the
longest three seconds of my life. When I see the linebackers and the safeties
bite, all heading to the right side of the field, I take off left as fast as I can
run.
No one on the defense pays any attention to me. They’re all fixated on
stopping Dwight. I’m three yards from the end zone when I turn, just in time
to see Dwight pivot and throw the ball with everything he’s got.
The throw’s high and farther ahead of me than I was expecting. I power
through two more yards, then launch myself as far and as high as I can, never
taking my eyes off the ball. The leather hits my hands with more force than I
expect, but they close around it and I pull the ball in just as my shoulders hit
the ground. I hear the crowd go crazy and the buzzer signaling the end of the
game.
The ref closest to me throws his arms up indicating a touchdown. I jump
up and spike the ball like it’s my bitch. “Fuck yes!”
Holy hell. We fucking did it.
The crowd storms the field and seconds later my entire team rushes me.
But as thrilled as I am with our well-deserved victory—there’s only one
face I want to see right now.
I zero in on the mascot who’s currently doing the sprinkler, revving the
crowd up even more.
I might not deserve Sawyer…but I want her.
All of her.
No walls. No guardrails. No safety nets.
No stupid contract or bet.
Just us.
For real this time.
Chapter 58
SAWYER
A husky moan fills the room. “Fuck. That’s it, Bible Thumper. Right
there.”
Holding back a laugh, I continue pressing my fingers into his
muscles, working out the knot in his back.
His team wanted him to go to Christian’s to celebrate their victory
tonight, but Cole told them he had other plans.
Evidently those plans involved coming back to his house.
With me.
Not that I’m complaining.
There are far worse ways to spend your night than in bed touching a
shirtless Cole.
My boyfriend.
Holy shit.
“That feels so fucking good,” Cole rasps low and deep. “Marry me.”
That zaps me out of my trance.
“You’re getting a little ahead of yourself there, buster,” I joke. “We just
started dating.”
I look around his room. I expected it to be extravagant and posh like the
rest of his house, but aside from the giant flat screen T.V. and a California
king bed…it’s completely swathed in football memorabilia.
There aren’t any pictures or personal touches.
“What are you going to do about your car?”
“Nothing. It’s Cortland’s.”
“You’re not going to try to get it back?”
It’s a million-dollar car for crying out loud.
If I ever told my dad he gave it up, I’m pretty sure he’d actually shed a
few tears.
Hell, he might even forbid me to date Cole due to his stupidity.
“Nah. I got something much better in return.”
His words are almost as sweet as the gesture itself, but seriously. This is a
big freaking deal.
“Won’t your dad be upset?”
At that, he tenses. “Yup, he’ll be pissed.”
There has to be a legal loophole somewhere. I’m about to tell him so, but
then he says, “It is what it is. My mom put aside some trusts for her children
with the money she made from her films. I won’t get mine until after I
graduate high school. It isn’t millions or anything, but I’ll be able to buy a
new car with it.”
Graduation is still over five months away. “What will you do until then?”
Angling his head, he waggles his eyebrows. “Beg my very sexy and very
generous girlfriend for rides.”
I sigh dramatically. “Fine. But it’s gonna cost you.”
“That so?”
There’s a seductive edge to his voice that does all sorts of things to me.
Before I can respond, he flips over on the bed and grabs my hips, pulling
me on top of him.
He licks his bottom lip suggestively. “What’s it gonna cost me, Church?”
I swallow hard as I straddle him. Usually I’m quick on my feet, but he’s
turned my mind into mush.
“I—what do you want?” I ask, but then I remember it’s supposed to be
me telling him what I want. “I mean—”
Nerves catch my throat when the hand on my hip moves to my ass.
Given I’m his girlfriend now, will he expect me to have sex with him?
Because I’m not sure…actually I am.
I am positive that I’m not ready to entertain going there with him yet.
Not only because of my faith, but…we’re still so new.
And while I don’t doubt that Cole has feelings for me, I want my first
time to be with someone who loves me.
“Is this okay?” Cole questions as his hand moves to my thigh.
I give him a nod. “Do you…” I clear my throat and try again. “I mean,
you know I’m not read—”
“Relax,” he says. “I know where the line is.” He circles my inner thigh
with his thumb. “I won’t cross it without the green light from you first.”
The pressure in my chest eases up. “I’m not trying to be a prude—”
Words die in my throat when his thumb brushes over my sex through my
leggings. “Trust me, after what happened in that locker room, the last thing
I’d call you is a prude.”
I give him a coy smile. “Still thinking about that, huh?”
He raises his hips, letting me know just how long and hard he’s been
thinking about it. “You tell me.”
Sliding back, I stare at the impressive bulge outlined by his gray
sweatpants. “I think I’m gonna need a little more proof. You know, this way I
can make an informed decision and all.”
His eyes darken as he stretches his arm out, cupping my pussy through
the thin fabric. “You sure about that? Because it feels like I’m not the only
one who’s been thinking about it.”
He’s not wrong. God, these little games of ours always manage to get me
fired up.
Playing along, I crinkle my nose. “Who, me? Nah.”
Liar, liar.
Groaning, he rolls us over so he’s now on top of me. “You have no idea
how much I’m going to love proving you wrong.”
My eyes flutter closed as his mouth finds my neck. Before him, I didn’t
even know it was a hot spot of mine.
“You’re gonna have to try harder than that,” I tease because I know how
much he enjoys a challenge.
I pout when he rolls off me. “Hey.”
Propping himself up on one elbow, he smirks. “I enjoy looking at you.”
A big part of me wants to ask why when I look the way I do, but I don’t
want to ruin this moment.
Especially when he slides his palm over my breast. “Fucking perfect.” I
hiss when he tweaks my nipple. “I love how sensitive your tits are.”
I feed his words right back to him. “That so?”
“Oh, yeah.” His Adam’s apple bobs as the hand on my breast slides
lower. “I also love how sensitive you are right—” I whimper when he presses
the pad of his thumb to my clit. “Here.”
Goosebumps graze my arms and when I look down, I notice my nipples
puckering through my shirt.
So does he.
Biting his lip, he traces the shape of me with the tip of his finger. “You
like it when I tease your pretty pussy, huh?”
I fight back a shiver because what he’s doing lights all my nerve endings
on fire.
“Not even a little,” I say sardonically. “Feels terrible.”
“That’s a shame,” he drawls, inching his way down the bed.
The look in his eye is downright predatorial.
“Why?”
He wrenches my thighs apart. “Because then you definitely won’t like
this.”
Before I can blink, his mouth is on my pussy.
My hips jerk when he nibbles and sucks, toying with me. I so badly want
to yell at him to rip the stupid leggings off, but then I’ll lose this little game
of his.
“Feels so bad,” I moan. “So fucking bad.”
He chuckles, his hot breath sending another round of shivers up my
spine.
“Oh, God.”
“Most people just call me Cole,” he murmurs.
“Dick—”
His teeth scrape along my slit and I arch my back. “Is hard as a fucking
rock right now, thanks to you.”
“Oh, well, I definitely don’t want to play with it,” I joke. And because I
want to drive him crazy too, I add, “Or kiss it.”
He groans. “This is my game, remember?” He nips my pelvic bone. “Not
yours.” He licks the already wet fabric. “So be a good little Bible Thumper
while I play with my pussy.”
“Um...I think you mean my pussy. Thank you very much.”
Smirking, he looks up at me. “Not anymore, it’s not.”
“Oh, so I guess that means your cock just became mine.”
“It’s yours whenever you want it,” he deadpans. “Just say the word.”
If that’s the case, I’ll happily take this trade.
I pretend to think. “Hmm. How about now?”
He shakes his head. “Can’t.”
“But you just—”
He peppers kisses between my legs. “The game isn’t over yet.” He
nuzzles the fabric with his nose. “But these are soaked now, so we should
probably take them off.”
In one fell swoop, he tugs my leggings and underwear down.
I’m confused when he stops mid-way down my legs.
For a moment I think something bad or embarrassing happened, but he
presses my thighs to my stomach and holds them in place with his hands.
Not only does it block my view of him going down on me, the position
leaves me wide open and exposed.
I’m about to protest the injustice, but his stubble scrapes my bare skin…
right before he thrusts his tongue inside me.
All I can do is moan as he works me to the point of oblivion.
“God, I’m so close.”
“Really?” he muses, lapping at me. “But I thought you hated this?”
My legs quiver. “It’s the worst.” Gripping the bedsheets, I grind against
his face. “Please don’t make me come.”
“Don’t worry,” he says gruffly. “I definitely won’t.”
His lips wrap around my clit, and I choke out a moan as the pressure
builds and builds.
He sucks harder…until the tension snaps like a rubber band.
I swear I see stars as I convulse and shake.
I should probably be embarrassed by how much I came and the damp spot
I feel beneath me when he releases my legs, but I honestly don’t have the
energy to worry about it.
And the way Cole’s looking at me, tells me he doesn’t mind my mess one
single bit.
Laying down next to me, he gives me a lopsided grin. “We should never
do that again.”
“Never,” I agree with a smile.
I look down at the obvious erection he still has. “And I really shouldn’t
return the favor.” I walk my fingers across the elastic band of his sweatpants.
“Should I?”
“Nope.” His throat bobs on a swallow. “Because I’m definitely not dying
to put my dick in your mouth.” He must see the hesitation on my face,
because he quickly adds, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
It’s not that I don’t want to…I’m afraid I’ll be bad at it.
There’s no getting around the fact that our levels of experience are like
night and day.
I don’t want to be a four—and I’m being generous here—when he’s used
to having an eight or better in terms of skill.
Hell, I’ve watched porn before. There’s a reason they call it a blow job.
However, I’m not opposed to learning something new. Especially if it
will give him even an ounce of the pleasure he just gave me.
“No, I wan—”
“Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything.”
I’m not sure what to make of his expression. “What’s the farthest you’ve
gone with someone?”
My cheeks heat. “I went to Florida with my parents once.”
He makes a face. “Come on, Sawyer. I’m not trying to be an asshole.”
I know he’s not, but it still doesn’t make this conversation any less
uncomfortable.
“In ninth grade, Abbott Carney stuck his tongue in my mouth and put his
hand up my sweater.”
Cole’s eyes narrow. “I hate Abbott Carney.”
That gets a laugh out of me. “You don’t even know him. He’s actually
insanely smart. I had the biggest crush on him when I was a kid, but he had a
crush on Catherine who used to babysit him.” I shrug. “We were really good
friends…until the day that happened and he admitted he was pretending it
was my older sister the entire time.”
His nostrils flare. “What a douchebag.”
I wave a hand. “Eh, spilled milk. I’m over it.”
Besides, Abbott Carney doesn’t kiss half as good as my Colton does.
There’s a cocky gleam in his eye as he places my hand on his cock. “So
this Abbott Carney tool aside, I’ll be all your firsts?”
“Ye—no,” I say as the memory flashes through my head.
It’s funny how your mind can put horrible experiences you’d prefer to
forget on the back burner.
Cole raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna need some clarification on that.”
I squeeze his length through his sweatpants, hoping to shift the focus
elsewhere. The last thing I want to bring up is him.
Especially right now.
“It’s not important.” I start to maneuver down the bed. “What’s important
is how much I don’t want to try this right now.”
Cole makes a face. “I’ve bullshitted my way out of enough answers to
know when someone is doing it to me.” He tips my chin. “I’ll never judge
you. Besides, after the stuff I’ve done in the past, I have no right to be upset
by anything you’ve done in yours.”
Normally, I’d agree. However, there’s always an exception to the rule.
And unfortunately for me…I’ve found it.
Or rather…jerked it. Twice.
Fuck my life.
I bolt upright on the bed. “Please don’t be mad. I probably should have
told you sooner, but there was never really a good time to mention it. And to
be honest, it’s not something I really think about, so it slipped my mind.
Hooking up with him was a mis—”
“Who?”
“Trust me, it’s better for us both if I don’t say. Bringing it up will only
upset you. Like I tried to tell you before, it was a huge mistake.”
Actually, compared to Cole and half the guys in the locker room that day,
it was a pretty small mistake, but there’s no need to mention that.
Cole looks like he’s going to be sick. “It was Oakley, wasn’t it?” He
stands up. “Swear to God, I’m gonna fucking—”
“Holy shit. No. I never hooked up with Oakley.” I pause. “Apart from
when he kissed me at Christian’s.”
The way his jaw tics tells me that definitely did not help the situation.
He pales. “Jace?”
“No.” I smack his shoulder. “What the hell is the matter with you? I
would never do that to Dylan.”
Placing his hands on his hips, he shrugs. “Those are the only two guys I
can think of who would make me upset.” He makes a face. “Shit. It wasn’t
Bianca, was—”
“Oh, my God,” I exclaim, exasperated. “I’ve never hooked up with your
best friend or either of your siblings, you weirdo.”
“Then who?” He waves his hands. “Who is this mystery man you don’t
want to tell me a—”
“Tommy,” I admit. “It was Tommy.”
Chapter 60
COLE
“I ’m gonna go.”
I look down at her plate. She barely took a bite of her
pizza.
After the Tommy bomb she dropped earlier, things have been a little
tense between us.
Reaching down, she grabs her purse off the floor. “I have to work all day
tomorrow. I’d say stop by, but…yeah.”
I’m not allowed. Which is bullshit if you ask me.
Any place that prevents me from seeing Sawyer is a place that deserves to
be burned to the ground.
“Tell Stone I said hi.” A gut-wrenching thought bred from pure jealousy
strikes me. “Unless you’re hooking up with him too.”
I regret the words the moment they leave my mouth, but it’s too late.
Sawyer is already looking at me like I’m a royal asshole.
I am.
She draws in a deep breath, like she’s trying to remain as composed as
she can. “I can’t…I literally have no words, Colton.”
I should apologize.
She didn’t do anything wrong.
It was me.
It’s always me.
Chapter 61
COLE
“A bout time you brought a girl home,” the drunk bastard slurs.
“Sawyer’s my friend. She’s helping me get some of my
stuff,” Oliver informs him.
“Get your stuff? Oh, you think you’re leaving, you little homo? Let’s see
how far you get after I—”
And that’s where I come in. “Lay a finger on him and I’ll break every
single one of yours, motherfucker.”
Eyes growing big, the asshole staggers back. “Who the hell are you?” He
turns to Oliver. “Let me guess. He’s a fudge packer too.”
“Hey—” Sawyer starts to shout, but I grab the guy by his shirt.
“I’m the guy who will obliterate your miserable drunk ass if you don’t
shut the fuck up.”
I look at Oliver and Sawyer. “Grab your shit.”
“A re you two sure you don’t want to stay for a little while?”
Oliver’s boyfriend asks. “It’s bad out there.”
He’s not wrong. It rarely rains in California…except tonight
of course.
Tonight it’s pouring.
I pluck Sawyer’s keys out of her hand. “I’ll get her home safe.”
Oliver smiles. “Thank you for—”
“You don’t have to thank us.” Sawyer gives him a hug. “I’ll call you
tomorrow, okay?”
“You better.”
I grab her hand as we walk out to the parking lot of the apartment
complex. The rain is coming down in buckets, so we make a run for it.
We’re almost to the van when Sawyer chokes out, “Cole.”
“I know. The weather s—”
She kisses me.
Safe to say I couldn’t give two fucks about the rain now.
Jesus Christ. There’s so much passion behind her kiss it draws a husky
groan from my throat.
That only spurs her on. She pins me against the side of her van.
I have no idea what warranted this, but fuck if I’m gonna do anything to
stop it.
Her mouth travels to the side of my neck. “What you did for Oliver—”
she rasps. “You’re amazing.”
I don’t know what she’s talking about. It wasn’t a big deal.
If anything, what she did for him made the difference. I was just the
muscle.
However, I’m also not an idiot. If she wants to lavish me in compliments
while she—fuck.
And now I’m hard.
“Get inside,” I growl as she continues rubbing my dick through my wet
jeans. “Now.”
The rain has slowed to a drizzle now and if I speed, I can have us to my
house in under fifteen.
She quickly opens the passenger door and hops inside.
To my shock—and my cock’s delight—I find her undoing the buttons of
her sweater when I come around and climb in.
As always, this girl is full of surprises.
I reach across the seat and squeeze one of her tits. “I want to fuck these
again.”
Leaning her head against the seat, she whispers, “Put your mouth on them
first.”
Hell, if doing something nice revs her up like this, I’ll become a goddamn
saint.
Not wasting any time, I yank down her bra, drawing her nipple between
my lips.
She starts to moan…then freezes. “Wait. Stop. I think someone’s
watching us.”
Sure enough, when I shoot my gaze out the windshield, I notice some guy
standing under the awning of his terrace, smoking a cigarette.
Staring right at us.
Sawyer shoves her tits back inside her sweater. “I can’t believe he—”
“Put your hands on the dashboard.”
“What? Why?”
I flick my tongue along the column of her throat. “Trust me.”
“What are—”
She gulps when I stick my hand under her skirt. Usually I hate these long
ass things because of the way they hide her curves. However, it’s convenient
as hell for what I’m about to do.
“He’s staring at you because you’re beautiful.” I slide my hand up her
thigh. “And he wants you.”
She rolls her eyes. “Please—”
Dipping my head, I nip and tease her nipple through her cardigan. “But he
can’t have you…can he?”
Her eyes turn dark with lust and she shakes her head. “No.”
I brush my finger over the wet spot on her panties. “Why?”
She knows what I want to hear. What I need to hear.
She spreads her thighs ever so slightly. “Because I’m yours.”
“That’s right.” I tug her panties down her legs. “Is he still watching?”
She licks her lips. “He lit another cigarette.”
Of course, he did.
Unfortunately for him, our new position means he won’t be able to see
anything…
Except the look on her face as I make her come.
“Don’t take your hands off the dashboard.” Slowly, I sink my finger
inside her. “He doesn’t get to see what’s mine.”
I press my palm to her clit while I work her.
Her chest heaves, lifting those heavy tits high. “That feels so good.”
Due to the rain and it being mid-January, the windows are starting to fog.
Which means I need to speed it up.
I want to teach this perverted fucker a lesson and let him know exactly
who Sawyer belongs to.
She jerks in surprise when I add a second finger, clenching around me.
“Relax,” I whisper. “I won’t hurt you.”
Those big brown eyes are so full of trust it tears me wide open.
I slow it down a little, letting her get used to the new sensation.
When her body is calm again, I drag my thumb over her clit and thrust a
little faster. “Does this hurt?”
“No.” Her head lulls back. “Don’t stop.”
Edging forward, I press my lips to her throat and look out the window.
Fucker is on his third cigarette now.
She moans. “Go faster.”
I do.
My dick twitches as she clamps and spasms around me. Using the
dashboard as leverage, she starts to ride my hand. “That’s it. Fuck my
fingers.”
A crease forms between her brows as her jaw drops. “Oh, God. I’m gonna
come so fucking hard.”
Christ. I love it when my innocent Bible thumper loses control like this.
“Oh yeah?” I coax. “You gonna make me taste it.”
She shudders, gripping my fingers like a vise.
The man standing outside couldn’t be further from my mind as she comes
all over my hand.
“Such a messy girl,” I rasp as she whimpers and squirms against the seat.
Sucking her release off my fingers, I peer out the window.
Looking irritated now, the man tosses his cigarette and goes back inside.
Sawyer laughs. “I guess he didn’t like the show.”
“Who cares.” I place her hand on the bulge in my jeans. “I did.”
Her lids lower. “We should probably do something about that, huh?”
I start to nod but grunt when she scrapes her fingernail up and down my
zipper. “Can we go to the backseat? Just in case he comes out again.”
“Trust me. I don’t give a fuck if he sees my cock.”
She blushes, looking so timid and nervous no one would ever think I just
finger fucked her while a stranger watched.
“I don’t want him to see my mouth on your cock.”
My brain temporarily goes on the fritz.
Ever since the Tommy talk that day, Sawyer hasn’t brought it up again.
There was one time I was titty-fucking her in my bedroom, and she opened
her mouth like she wanted a taste…but then…
Well, let’s just say that visual alone sped things along.
I’m in the backseat so fast my head spins.
Although that probably has more to do with the fact Sawyer’s about to
suck me off.
My dick is downright throbbing as she drops to her knees in the backseat.
For all the crap I’ve talked about her driving an old ass minivan, I find
myself grateful for the extra room.
That bashful expression is on her face again.
As much as I want this, it’s not half as fun if she doesn’t. “You don’t
have to do—”
“Oh, no. I want to,” she says in a rush. “You have no idea how badly.”
My blood pressure rises…and then plummets south.
She pops open the button on my jeans and unzips me. “I was just…I
really want…” Her voice trails off.
I raise my hips as she pulls my jeans down. “What?”
Her fingers toy with the waistband of my boxers. “I’ve never done this
before, so I was kind of hoping you’d let me…take my time and explore you.
This way I know what you like.”
My dick jerks and my heart races.
I suppress the urge to tell her she’d only have to put her mouth on it at
this point and palm her cheek instead. “You can explore me and my dick all
you want.”
She pulls down my boxers. “Will you let me know what you like? Things
I can improve on?”
I’m so hard, my cock slaps against my stomach. “Sure thing.”
The fact that she cares so much about pleasing me is…hot as hell.
I bite my lip as she ties her hair back.
Inch by excruciating inch, she lowers her head.
I hold my breath as she wraps her hand around me and kisses my lower
abs.
“You’re so sexy.”
Plenty of girls have said the same thing during a hookup, but she’s the
only one I ever gave a fuck about.
It’s different when you care about someone…distinctive somehow.
It means more.
The first sweep of her tongue over my tip has me muttering a curse.
Sawyer looks up, “Good or bad?”
“Good—” I grunt when she repeats the movement. “So fucking good.”
I grit my teeth when she licks a hot line along my shaft.
I told her she could explore, but I don’t think I can take it.
For fuck’s sake, my dick is literally weeping for her.
Seeming to take notice, she circles the fluid around with her thumb and
brings it to her mouth. “You taste good.”
Holy hell. This blow job is going to kill me, and she hasn’t even started
yet.
“Sawyer.”
I’m dying. Fucking dying here.
“Yeah?” She laps at my tip again, only this time, she flicks her tongue
against the hole.
She’s killing me. Goddamn, killing me.
“I need you to suck it.”
“Oh. Right.”
I snatch the seatbelt and damn near rip it in half when she draws my
cockhead into her mouth and sucks.
“More pressure or less?”
“A little more…and a lot lower.”
She wanted honesty.
Wrapping her hand around my base, she glides her mouth down before
sliding back up.
“Oh, fuck. Just like that.”
She gives my cock a slow jerk as she releases me with a wet pop. “I don’t
think I can deep throat you.” She huffs like it’s an inconvenience for her.
“You’re too big, Colton.”
I have to stifle a laugh. Little eager beaver. “It’s fine. What you’re doing
is good.”
I mean it. Does she suck me off like a porn star? No.
But her eagerness to please me, her need to want to know what I like…
makes up for any lack of experience she has.
“However, if you want some frank feedback, Bible thumper. Less talking
and more suc—Jesus fucking Christ.”
A rush of heat sizzles up my dick as she begins sucking me
longer…harder…deeper. “Holy shit. I like that…I like that a lot. Please
fucking don’t stop. Ever.”
Fuck me. This girl has reduced me to pleading.
My hands. Goddammit. I’m aching with the need to place them on the
back of her head and keep them there permanently.
I have to be smart about this though. One wrong move could put Sawyer
off giving me head for good, and I don’t want that to happen.
I’m about to sit on them, but her movements come to a halt. “What’s
wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lie.
The look she gives me makes it clear she’s not buying it. “Come on, Cole.
We’re supposed to be honest with each other, remember? Tell me—”
“I’m trying not to grab the back of your head and fuck your face, okay?”
There. I said it.
She looks like she’s trying her hardest not to laugh. “I mean, you can if
you want.”
I no longer have to wonder if Sawyer is an angel on earth…because right
now, I’m sure of it.
Wrapping her mouth around my cock again, she goes back to sucking me,
her fingers lightly brushing my balls.
I’m so close. “So fucking close,” I rasp.
Sawyer must take that to mean she needs to work harder because she goes
to town on my dick.
This time, I do grab the back of her head and thrust.
Between the slurping and my balls feeling like they’re about to blast off
into outer space, there’s only so much a man can take.
I thrust again, hitting the back of her throat this time. “Fuck yeah.”
She makes a gagging sound, but it’s too late.
The pleasure is so strong I almost black out as I come.
She swallows. Of-fucking-course she does.
Because she’s perfect.
I sag against the seat, my body feeling more depleted than after the
championship game.
“Sorry,” I say on an inhale, hoping she doesn’t hate me.
“For what?”
“I should have…I don’t know…been less rough. I guess.”
She doesn’t look too worried about it. “I wish you warned me before you
came, but I managed.”
She sits down next to me. “Are you okay?”
I nod, pulling her to me. “More than okay. That was amazing.”
She’s about to brush it off, but I won’t let her.
I’m probably the least considerate boyfriend on the planet most days, but
I know what she did tonight was a big deal to her.
“I mean it, Sawyer.”
She leans her forehead against mine. “I care about you…so fucking
much. It scares me.”
That makes two of us.
My feelings for this girl are so deep…so intense they’re becoming all-
consuming.
She doesn’t deserve you.
“Kiss me.”
The second her lips are on mine, the pressure in my chest eases up and I
can breathe.
But it’s short lived.
Because the ugliest truths can only stay buried for so long.
And if Sawyer ever finds out mine…
She’ll never look at me the same.
She’ll run far away and never turn back.
She’ll hate me…
Just like I hated him.
Chapter 65
SAWYER
I trace his eyebrow with my finger. “When did you know football
was what you wanted to do with your life?”
Since I have the night off, we’re spending a lazy Sunday in
his bed.
And sulking over the fact that neither of us has heard back from Duke’s
Heart yet.
He doesn’t even think about it before replying, “The second Jace placed
one in my hands.”
“So it was love at first sight.”
He grins. “Pretty much.”
He traces little circles up and down my spine. “When did you know being
a teacher was what you wanted to do with yours?”
“I don’t,” I admit.
His brows furrow. “But I thought—”
“I mean, I definitely want to be a teacher,” I clarify. “I’m just not sure I
want to be a science teacher.”
“What subject would you rather teach?”
There’s no point in telling him because it’s not going to happen.
“Doesn’t matter. And I don’t want you to laugh at me.”
“I’m not going to laugh at you…unless you tell me it’s clown school.”
That actually makes me laugh. “My feet aren’t that big.” I avert my gaze.
“If I had my way, I’d be a music teacher for kids.”
Unlike my mother, I’d encourage them to pursue their dreams…no matter
what they looked like.
“Who says you can’t?”
“It’s not very practical, Cole. More and more schools are getting rid of
their music departments.”
He props himself up on his elbow. “Not all of them. Besides, you could
always teach privately.”
I think about this for a moment, but decide that’s even more impractical.
“No. I’ll just stick with the plan.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “What’s the plan?”
“Become a science teacher. Marry a nice southern man who’s involved
with the church and have one child…because more than one will make you
broke. Not to mention—fat.”
I can thank my mother for that little tidbit.
“That sounds like a boring ass plan.”
I roll over until I’m facing his ceiling. “Blame my parents. They’ve been
shoving that plan down my throat for years.”
“You don’t have to follow it. You could always make a new plan.”
A laugh flies out. “I guess…but my plan isn’t that much different from
theirs…except…” Nope, definitely not telling him that. “Never mind.”
Never one to let things go, Cole laces his fingers through mine. “You
know you have to tell me now, right?”
I sigh. Yup. Sometimes it’s just easier to give the stubborn ass what he
wants.
“Fine. In my ideal life, I’d be a music teacher.” I look at him. “Marry
someone who’s so in love with me he’ll always fight for us…no matter how
hard it gets.” Because I don’t want to be like my parents. “And I don’t just
want one baby…I want many babies.”
At that, his eyebrows shoot up. “How many?”
I grin as I think about skinned knees, kisses, bedtime stories, and loving
each and every one of them so much my heart could burst.
“Four…at least.”
He blows out a breath. “Damn. That is a lot.” He frowns. “But with so
many of them…one is bound to feel left out and neglected. Especially if they
aren’t your favorite.”
I can’t help but wonder if that’s how he felt growing up? As if Liam—
and the rest of his siblings—were more important than he was.
I can’t say I don’t understand, but fortunately for me, I only have one
sister to compete with.
Catherine’s obviously my mom’s favorite, but I’ve always known I’m
secretly my dad’s. Or rather…was.
Either way, I was still lucky enough to feel loved by one parent.
Something tells me Cole’s never felt that.
And God how much that sucks…because his mother gave birth to an
incredible human being.
It’s a shame she wasn’t alive to witness it.
But not nearly as shameful as her not valuing him for who he was while
she was still here.
Shifting slightly, I run my thumb over his cheekbone. “Children aren’t
dolls or movies. You shouldn’t favor one over the other. They’d each get an
equal piece of my heart and soul.”
The way it should be.
Bringing my hand up to his mouth, he kisses the inside of my wrist.
“You’ll be an amazing mom, Sawyer.” The look he gives me cuts right down
to my marrow. “Not anytime soon, but…eventually.”
My heart is pounding so fast I feel like I just ran a marathon.
I don’t know if that’s his way of saying he sees us together for the long-
haul like I do…or insinuating it will happen after we’re over and we’ve both
moved on.
However, the sharp pang in my heart tells me I’ll never move on from
Colton Covington.
He’s not just under my skin…he’s buried so deep inside me I no longer
know where I end and he begins.
I’ve never been the type of person to beat around the bush, so I cut right
to the chase. “Do you want that life…with me?”
His eyes go so big I’m afraid they might pop out of his head. “I’m gonna
go order us some food.” He hops off the bed like he’s been burned. “In the
mood for anything in particular?”
Yeah. Him to stop acting like I just asked if he wanted to become serial
killers and begin our first string of murders tonight.
“I’m not hungry.”
“I’ll get you something anyway.” Phone in hand, he starts walking to the
door. “Be right back.”
I open my mouth to ask him why he needs to walk away to order food…
but he’s already gone.
Chapter 67
COLE
R age pumps through my blood as I charge out the front door. I feel
around for my keys, but remember I don’t have a fucking car.
Turning around, I make a run for the guesthouse.
Oakley answers on the second knock. The look in my eyes as I demand to
borrow his car must tell him I am not fucking around, because he hands the
keys over.
“What’s going—”
I’m off before he can finish his sentence.
She shouldn’t have gone in there.
She had no goddamn business poking around Liam’s things.
A flash of dread runs through me.
Now she’s going to ask questions about him.
Questions like—why did he take his own life?
What was up with that Bible passage?
I might be able to skirt around the truth with Jace for the sake of our
family, but I can’t lie to her.
She sees right through me.
I slam on the gas so hard I burn rubber as I fly down the street.
I’m gonna lose her.
I grit my teeth as I make a sharp left.
I need to beat the shit out of something—someone—before I lose my
goddamn mind.
Lose her.
Unfortunately for Stone, his big brother’s no longer around to take the
heat.
A morbid laugh flies out of me as I pull around to the back of Sawyer’s
job and cut the engine. My big bro isn’t here either.
I was planning to wait until his shift was over, but I don’t have to,
because I spot him taking some garbage to the back dumpster.
While Bianca chases after him, screaming her head off.
I have no idea what that’s about, but I’m already fired up, so I hop out of
the car.
“Yo, DaSilva.”
It’s the only warning he gets before I bash his face in with my fist.
Chapter 70
SAWYER
“I don’t know what to do,” Bianca yells. “Jace won’t answer his
phone and I don’t have Dylan’s number.”
Jesus. I’ve never heard her so terrified.
“Okay, calm down. What’s going on?” I grab my purse and walk down
the Covington’s stairs. “Better yet, tell me where you are. I’ll come get you.”
There’s a moment of hesitation before she says, “I’m at Cluck You.”
“Why—”
“It’s not important. What’s important is that Cole is currently beating
Stone to a bloody pulp. It’s bad, Sawyer. So fucking bad.”
My heart jumps to my throat as she screams, “Get off him, Cole. You’re
gonna kill him.”
I sprint to my van. “I’m on my way.”
I never should have gone inside Liam’s room.
I honestly didn’t think it would set him off this much.
I just wanted to know something.
Because he tells me nothing.
“Cole, please!” Bianca cries out. “Sawyer, I don’t kno—”
“Hit him,” I yell. “Hit him with something. Now. It will make him stop.”
Money doesn’t always guarantee you’ll get out of a murder charge and I
can’t lose him.
I hear a loud bang on the other line. “I threw a brick at his head.”
I almost veer off the road. “Jesus, Bianca—”
“Don’t worry, I missed. It hit the side of the dumpster. But it broke up the
fight and—shit. What are you doing now, you maniac?”
“What happened?”
“Cole’s taking off.”
“Taking off? How? He doesn’t have a car.”
“He’s driving Oakley’s car.”
Fuck a duck. I thought he took an Uber.
“Okay, just…call an ambulance for Stone.”
“Are you kidding—”
“Just do it, Bianca. He’s probably seriously hurt.”
I hang up before she can protest and dial Oakley.
“Hey—”
“Does your car have some kind of GPS tracker thing?”
Fuck if I know what it’s actually called. My van is old as dirt.
“I figured you and Cole might be fighting, but I don’t—”
“Cole is fighting Stone, Oakley. At least he was before he took off again.
Do you have a location tracker or not? OnStar? Anything?”
“Yeah.”
I suck in a breath. “Good—”
“But I had Jace disable it. I didn’t want my pop’s tracking me.”
Of fucking course it’s disabled. Jesus, take the wheel.
“Do me a favor and call Jace. See if he picks up for you.”
“If he does, do you want me to tell him Cole beat up Stone again—”
“No. I want you to ask if he knows where Cole would go when he’s upse
—” It hits me so hard I feel like I just got hit in the head with a brick.
“On second thought, I figured it out. Gotta go.” Another thought occurs to
me. “Call your dad. Bianca said Cole beat Stone up pretty bad—”
“Why was Bianca there?”
“I have no idea. And right now, I honestly don’t give a fuck. The only
thing I care about is getting to Cole.”
“A re you fucking happy now, Liam?” I scream at the night sky. “Is
this what you wanted?”
The pain is so deep it cuts like a thousand knives stabbing
me at once.
So crippling, every breath feels like it might be my last.
Karma.
I took his life…so it’s only fair he destroys mine.
Fillet me open and expose me for the ruthless asshole I really am.
“Cole,” Sawyer calls out before she comes into view. “What’s going on?
Talk to me.”
I look up at her. The way the moon shines behind her head makes her
look like an angel missing a wing.
Because I destroyed it.
I destroy everything.
“How did y—”
“It’s your favorite place.”
I hate that she knows me so well.
Before I can stop her, she lays down beside me on the grass. “I’m sorry
—”
“Don’t apologize.” The muscles in my chest draw tight. “It was bound to
come out sooner or later.”
I was just hoping it was later. Much later.
“What was?”
The ugly truth.
No matter how hard I try to forget…it will never make up for the ugly,
horrible event I’m responsible for.
I turn my head to look at her again.
She’s so goddamn beautiful.
So pure and innocent and good.
The saint a sinner like me never deserved.
For once, I wish God was real. I wish Heaven and Hell and reincarnation
were legit so I could pay my penance and ask for a second chance.
Meet her again in another lifetime. One where I actually deserve her.
“I’ll tell you everything.” Shifting, I turn to face her. “I just want to kiss
you one last time before I do.”
One last time before it all disappears.
Before I show her the worthless piece of shit I really am and she gives up
on me.
You won, Liam.
I didn’t care about you, but it’s gonna kill me to lose her.
Sawyer’s brows knit together in confusion and she sits up. “No, you can’t
kiss me one last time. Because no matter what you tell me, I’m not going
anywhere.”
She’s wrong. So wrong. “You say that now—”
“I mean it.” She grabs my face. “Whatever it is, it won’t change the way I
feel about you. Ever. Colton, I lo—”
“It’s my fault.”
Her hands tighten. “What is?”
“Liam…his death. It’s all my fault.”
Chapter 72
COLE
Past…
“Liam is so mad at you,” Bianca says the moment Jace and I walk
through the front door.
I wanted to patch things up with Hayley, but Jace read me the riot act
about being a shitty brother to Liam and forced me to come home with him.
A lot of good it did me. The bastard ratted me out.
Jace looks at me. The disappointment is back.
“It’s not my fault he ran out of the dance crying,” I shout. “Blame Tommy
DaSilva.”
I’m so tired of everyone constantly reprimanding me for Liam’s
problems. He does it to himself.
“Not you.” She looks at Jace. “You.”
Jace looks surprised…that makes two of us.
Unlike me and Liam, Jace and Liam get along great.
So great Jace denies his real feelings for Dylan. Which is a heaping pile
of bullshit if you ask me. Anyone with a pulse can see Dylan and Jace are
perfect for one another.
“Me?” Jace questions. “Did he say why?”
Bianca thinks about this for a moment before replying, “Nope.” Smirking,
she looks up at the ceiling. “But he did ask me where the bat was.”
As if on cue, there’s a loud crash upstairs.
Well, shit. Looks like Liam isn’t a pussy after all.
I let out a wolf whistle. The drama train express has officially left the
station. “I’m gonna take a guess and say you pointed him in the right
direction.”
Bianca blows on her nails. “Duh.”
“Thanks a lot,” Jace mutters before charging up the staircase.
I’m right behind him. “What did you do?”
I gotta hear this. Jace and Liam never fight.
“I have no idea.”
I don’t buy it. Given Liam’s taking a bat to shit, he must have done
something.
“I’ve never seen him so mad before,” Bianca whisper-shouts behind us.
That makes two of us. Which means she needs to stay on the couch where
it’s safe.
Jace and I turn around. “Go downstairs.”
Pouting, she slinks down the staircase. “I hope Liam takes a bat to your
balls.”
Glass shattering assaults my ears when Jace opens his bedroom door.
My mouth nearly hits the floor as I step inside. His room is completely
ransacked.
The jerk even managed to destroy Jace’s most prized possession, a giant
computer monitor.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jace shouts.
Bat in hand, those angry eyes swivel to us. “T-t-taking s-s-something you
l-l-love aw-w-way.” Liam swings again, attacking the tower this time.
“Maybe n-n-now you’ll k-k-know w-w-what it f-f-feels lik-k-ke.”
Jace looks every bit as lost as I am. “I have no idea what you’re talking
about. I didn’t take anything away from—”
“Dylan,” Liam seethes, moving on to his Xbox. Various pieces of plastic
and metal propel across the room. “I s-s-saw you two k-k-k-kissing in t-t-the
c-c-c-loset.”
Mic. Drop.
Well, shit. Go Jace. Finally.
“About damn time,” I tell him.
For years, Jace has been stuffing his feelings for Dylan down in hopes of
not hurting Liam, who laid some stupid claim to her the second Jace brought
her home.
“S-s-shut up,” Liam screams, his voice breaking.
Jesus Christ. What a baby.
I hold up my hands, attempting to get a handle on the situation. “Bro,
you’re acting like a psycho. Put the bat down.”
“No.” He hits a stack of video games next. “You k-k-knew how m-m-
much I l-l-loved her.”
Jace looks like he’s going to be sick. “How did you find out?”
A smug face belonging to a certain bully flashes through my head.
I have a sneaking suspicion it was Tommy DeSilva.
Like both my brothers, he’s had the hots for Dylan too.
Only unlike them, Dylan wants nothing to do with him.
Although they were awfully close tonight.
Then again, Jace went to the dance with Britney who everyone knows is
Dylan’s enemy.
I rub my chin. Maybe that’s why she said yes when Liam asked her to the
dance. Dylan was jealous and hurt. Perhaps she wanted to return the favor
and give Jace a taste of his own medicine.
And what better way to do it than to use Liam, the brother who has a
crush on her. Only, Liam probably thought she said yes because she actually
liked him. The sucker.
Meanwhile, Dylan spent most of the dance cozying up to Tommy of all
people.
And then somehow, ended up kissing Jace in a closet…where surprise,
surprise Liam was magically there to witness it.
I smell a rat. Actually, I smell two of them.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
And a tormenter who likes to stir up shit.
“I j-j-just t-t-told you, dumbas-s-ss,” Liam screams. “I s-s-saw—”
“How did you know we were in the closet?” I can see the moment it
finally dawns on Jace. “Goddammit.”
Yup, this shit is bad. Real bad.
Especially considering what Tommy did to Liam right after.
Talk about kicking someone while they're down.
Liam smashes Jace’s television next. “Tommy t-t-told me you were s-s-
sneaking around b-b-behind my b-b-back. I didn’t b-b-believe him, but he s-
s-said he could p-p-prove it.”
Damn, that asshole is good.
Jace’s face falls. “I’m so—”
A Jimmy Eat World song fills the room. Dylan’s ringtone.
The girl has some balls calling him after what she’s done.
Liam eyes him like a hawk. “Is t-t-that her?”
Of course it is, dumbass. What other girl do we know who’s obsessed
with that stupid band?
Jace swiftly presses the ignore button on his phone. Smart move.
“Doesn’t matter.”
Liam places Jace’s brand-new Apple laptop on top of his desk.
My father offered to buy it for him for his birthday, but Jace declined…
just like he always does.
Instead he saved up every cent he earned cutting lawns for the past year
to buy it himself.
Jace takes a step toward him. “Liam, stop!”
Liam swings at the air—taunting him—before he flips the laptop open
and smashes it to smithereens.
I’ve never felt the urge to kill someone before now. I know how hard Jace
worked for that.
I know how much he loves Dylan.
And Liam.
This isn’t right. Liam’s acting like a spoiled brat who isn’t getting his
way and it’s not fair to Jace.
“Did you t-t-tell her I l-l-loved her?” He swings again. “Did you b-b-both
g-g-get a g-g-good laugh?”
“No. I told you I wouldn’t do that to you.”
I believe him. There’s no way Jace would ever betray Liam.
“Ha. Like I c-c-can t-t-trust you,” he screams. “You’re n-n-nothing b-b-b-
b-but a liar.”
No, he’s not. He’s a good brother who doesn’t deserve any of the shit
Liam’s currently giving him.
“Christ, man. Get a grip,” I yell. “Stop acting like a maniac and
destroying Jace’s stuff.”
Liam glares at me. “He k-k-kissed, Dy—”
“Yeah, I know. But Dylan was never yours, dude.” I snort. His oblivion is
almost comical. “Did you really think you had a shot with her?” I rock back
on my heels, trying not to laugh. “A blind person could see she’s been into
Jace for a while now. But even if she wasn’t, no way would she ever date
someone like you.”
Despite being weird and bitchy, Dylan’s a dime piece.
Liam isn’t even a five. Well, not anymore.
Some kids at school dubbed him the green-eyed monster because of the
scars slashing his face.
Thanks to our parents’ exceptional looks, everyone in our family is well
above average looking.
Everyone except him. Now his outside matches his inside.
“Cole,” Jace snaps.
No. If he’s not going to defend himself and stop the Liam pity train…I
will.
It’s time someone put Liam in his place. Who better than his twin to do
it?
“No one likes you, Liam. Not even your own family.” Disgust rolls
through me. “You’re embarrassing. Always looking for attention with your
crying and stuttering—”
“That’s enough,” Jace growls, winding his fist back. “Say another word
and I swear to God I’ll beat the shit out of you.”
Seriously? Liam destroyed all his stuff, won’t let him be happy with the
girl he likes, and somehow, I’m still the problem in this scenario?
It’s like everyone I care about has blinders on and no one can see the real
him.
Maybe I should walk around with a mask on too.
One that fools people into thinking I’m so great…just like Liam does.
“Whatever. Screw this.” I look at Liam. I’ve never hated anyone more
than I hate him. I’m pretty sure I never will. “Screw you.”
I flip them both the bird. “You assholes sort your own shit out. I’m done.”
I start to walk away but pause when I reach the door frame. “I wish it was
one of you who died instead of Mom. Maybe then this family wouldn’t be
such a disaster.”
With one of them gone, maybe she could have finally loved me.
P ain.
Sharp shooting pain that makes my entire chest feel like it’s
caving in.
I spring up in bed. Liam.
I look at the clock on the nightstand. It’s just after three in the morning.
Liam’s probably sleeping.
Another sharp shooting pain stabs through my heart like a needle through
a pincushion. It hurts.
It hurts so bad I have no choice but to cry out. “Liam.”
The idiot better not be doing something he’s not supposed to. I’m not in
the mood for another diet change or ear-piercing trombone playing incident.
I should go check on him. Make sure he isn’t hurt while doing God only
knows what.
Lifting the covers, I swing my legs over the bed.
But just like that…the pain subsides.
He’s fine.
Yawning, I slide back into bed and fall asleep.
“S o I said, you should come work for the Lord. The work is hard,
the hours are long, and the pay is low. But the retirement
benefits are out of this world.” Abbott Carney laughs like it’s
the funniest thing he’s ever heard in his life. “Get it? Because hea—”
“Heaven, yes.” I force another laugh. “That is a good one.”
I really hope God is feeling extra merciful right now and takes pity on
me, because I don’t know how much more I can take of this.
“I’m gonna go to the bar and get a drink.”
Winking, he points his finger at me like a gun. “Hope it’s a virgin.”
Good Lord, how I wish that fake gun was the real thing right now.
For years I had the biggest crush on this idiot and I honestly have no idea
why.
I blame it on Knightdale being a small town. Not enough variety.
I pull my phone out of my clutch, debating if I should call Cole.
No. Don’t be desperate.
He knew how important being here was to me and he still chose not to
come.
“Be right ba—”
Words jam in my throat, and for a minute I think I must be seeing things
because Cole Covington is standing in front of me.
Looking more gorgeous than any guy has any right to.
I want to pinch myself to make sure it’s real. “You’re here.”
He sucks in a breath. “I’m here.”
“I thought you weren’t—”
“Who’s your friend, sugar?” Abbott drawls, slinging an arm around my
waist.
Abbott’s been calling me sugar ever since I can remember, but I don’t
have a chance to explain that to Cole—or remove Abbott’s arm—because
Cole’s fist goes flying into his nose.
“I’m her motherfucking boyfriend, sugar.”
Chapter 78
COLE
I ’ve been watching Sawyer sleep for the last thirty minutes.
She looks so peaceful I didn’t have the heart to wake her
before I left.
So I stayed.
“Morning,” I say as she wakes from her slumber.
Yawning, she nuzzles against my chest. “Good morning.”
“How do you feel?”
I know she was sore last night, but I’m hoping it’s gone now.
She looks up at me, her finger trailing up and down my ribcage.
“Different.” She smiles. “But a good different.”
She looks a little different too…like she’s glowing.
I kiss her bare shoulder. “Love you.”
Her smile grows. “Love you.”
We stare at each other, grinning like two love struck idiots before Sawyer
gasps. “Shit. What time is it?”
I glance over at the clock on the nightstand. “A little past nine. Why?”
She digs the heel of her palm into her forehead. “I was supposed to go
downstairs with the rest of the bridal party for the breakfast sendoff.”
I have no idea what that is. “Breakfast sendoff?”
“My sister leaves for her honeymoon today. They wanted to have
breakfast with the bridal party before they left.”
I toss back the comforter. “I’ll be out of here in three minutes.”
She tugs on my arm. “No.”
“No?”
“Don’t go.”
She looks over at the empty still-made bed across the room. “I’m
assuming Clementine is down there…which means we still have at least
another hour to ourselves.”
“What about the breakfast sendoff?”
“Her new husband is taking her to France for their honeymoon. Trust me,
she doesn’t need her little sister to be there for her breakfast sendoff.”
Biting her lip, her hand disappears under the sheets. “However, there is
something I need right now.” She wraps her hand around my cock. “Good
Lord, Cole. Are you always this hard in the morning?”
Yes. “When I wake up next to a sexy, naked girl I am.”
Smiling coyly, she plants a row of kisses down my torso. “Well, this sexy
naked girl wants to have some hot, naked sex with her boyfriend before her
roommate comes back. You up for the job, Covington?”
I gesture to my dick. “You tell me, Church.”
She pouts. “I don’t know. I’m not convinced yet.”
A groan lodges in my throat when she lowers her head and sweeps her
tongue over the head of my cock.
Six months ago, if anyone would have told me I’d be driving cross
country to declare my love to a girl who had every reason to hate my guts…I
never would have believed them.
Funny how things work out for the best.
“Fuck.” I fist the sheets as she pulls me into her mouth and sucks me long
and deep. “Jesus.”
My girl has a mouth like a goddamn Hoover.
I look down at her. “Sawyer.”
She releases me with a wet pop. “Yeah?”
I drag her up my body. “If you keep sucking my cock like that, there will
be no hot naked sex.”
Rolling her over so she’s on her back, I nudge her thighs apart and
maneuver between them. “Just so you know, you will be coming all over my
dick this time.”
She smiles coyly. “Whatever you s—”
A hiss escapes her mouth as I thrust inside her.
“You okay?”
Eyes fluttering closed, she hums. “More than okay.”
Grabbing the headboard for leverage, I pick up my pace. “Have any other
family functions you need to attend today?”
“Nope.” Her eyes pop open. “Why?”
I give her a smug smile. “Because an hour won’t be long enough.”
“I t was just a fight, I’m sure it will all blow over soon.”
I’m currently laying in Cole’s arms, sobbing like a baby in
his bed.
“Dylan and I never fight.”
Her words. The way she looked at me like I was lower than dirt…it hurt
like hell.
I just don’t understand why she—why no one—can be happy for me.
“She’s just worried about you,” he whispers.
“Why? I lost weight, Cole. I didn’t join a prostitution ring or a gang.”
He looks down at me. “It’s just...you’ve been a little on edge recently.
Defensive.”
“Because everyone is on my case about my body.”
And then it happens…the tears fall faster and faster. So fast I can barely
breathe.
I’m not just losing weight anymore. I’m losing everyone I love.
And I don’t understand why. Why is such a positive thing becoming
negative?
Why does everyone hate me?
Why am I so angry all the time?
Why am I never good enough?
Cole rocks me in his arms. “Relax. Everything will be okay.”
“What if it’s not?”
What if Dylan and Oakley hate me forever?
What if Oakley was right about me having a problem?
I shake my head. No. It’s Adderall.
A medication prescribed to people all over the world.
And with the exception of Cole, it’s the best thing to ever happen to me.
There’s only one small problem. It might be ruining my life.
Because I can’t tell anyone about it.
Because they won’t understand why I want to keep taking it.
Because I’ll lose everyone.
You’re losing them anyway—my mind taunts.
Shifting, I wrap my arms around him. “Cole.”
The worry in his eyes takes my breath away. “Yeah?”
“Please don’t ever leave me.”
I feel so helpless and exposed, so unguarded.
He cups my cheek. “You have me. Always.”
Needing more than words, I lift his shirt over his head. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
His eyelids hood when I reach inside the waistband of his sweatpants.
“Wh—”
“I want you.”
Right now, I feel like he’s the only one in the whole wide world who
cares about me and I need to be close to him.
As close as I can get.
Rolling me on my back, he pulls my panties down my legs.
His head descends south, but I stop him. “No.”
Spreading my thighs as far as they’ll go, I glance up at him. “Now.”
His expression is a mixture of desire and turmoil as he lowers himself on
top of me, rubbing the tip of his cock over my swollen pussy.
“Sawyer.”
It comes out like a plea as his hands slide under my ass and he propels
himself inside me.
I stretch to accommodate him…like my body was molded for his.
He groans, his fingers digging into my hips as he pumps with greedy
thrusts. “Fuck.”
“I need you,” I whisper, my head and mind spiraling.
I don’t feel normal lately and my life suddenly feels like it’s spinning out
of control, but he’s the calm to my storm.
His green eyes swirl with unrestrained hunger as he repeats what he said
before. “You have me. Always.”
Raising my hips, I meet him thrust for thrust.
I need him so bad…because it hurts so much.
I wrap my arms around his neck, clinging to him.
I need him because I love him so much…and he’s the only good thing I
have left.
Chapter 88
SAWYER
Making sure he’s still asleep, I fish the pill bottle out of my pocketbook.
I’ve been taking five per day—usually into two different doses—but it’s
not working as well as it used to.
Given I really do have to study today, and I’ll be getting more pills from
Loki, I don’t see the problem with taking a little more.
I pour the remaining five pills in my hand and pop them in my mouth.
I’m reaching for a glass of water on the nightstand when I hear, “What
are you doing?”
I quickly swallow the pills. “I have a headache and remembered I had
some Tylenol in my purse.”
Truth be told, I really do wish I had some because my body is sore as hell
from our workout last night.
He frowns. “Maybe you have a headache because you never sleep
anymore.” He pats the spot next to him. “Come back to bed.”
I’m about to make up an excuse, but I really can’t say no to him.
I crawl under the covers. “Okay, but only for a little while. I have to go
home and study.”
He drapes his arm around me. “You can always study here.”
I have to suppress a laugh. Cole is the most distracting thing in the
universe.
“Thanks, but that’s not gonna work out well for me.”
He looks offended. “Why?”
I run the tip of my finger down his nose. “You distract me too much.”
Dipping his head, he kisses the crook of my neck. “You distract me too…
but in a good way.”
“I never said you distracted me in a bad way,” I point out.
My pulse speeds up as his fingertips trail down my stomach.
“Does it distract you when I do this?”
I bite my lip. “So much.”
My breathing accelerates as he toys with the drawstring on my sleep
shorts.
“You okay?”
That’s weird. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
He studies my face. “You look a little pale.”
“That’s what happens when you have a busy schedule. You never have
time for fun things like getting a tan.”
Smirking, he slips his hand inside my shorts. “How’s this for a fun
thing?”
My heart does a little flip…and then a wave of nausea hits me.
“Whoa.”
“What?”
I move his hand. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t feel so hot.”
He blinks. “Feel so hot how?”
“I’m a little nauseous.”
He bolts up like he’s been singed. “Nauseous?”
Good Lord. You’d think he was the one feeling sick.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure it will pass.”
I sit up in his bed…but the room starts spinning. Or not.
His eyes cut to mine. “Do you think you might be pregnant?”
Now the room is spinning for an entirely new reason.
However, I’m ninety-nine percent sure I’m not.
“I’m on birth control, remember?”
His jaw tics. “I know. But it’s not foolproof.” He stands up, squeezing his
neck. “Sawyer, I love you, but I am not ready to be a father. I’m only
eighteen.”
He acts like we’re not the same age.
However, the petrified look on his face has my heart in my throat. “Relax.
I take my birth control every day.”
“When was the last time you had your period?”
“A few days before the wedding.”
Although it was so light it barely qualified as one. Not that I’m
complaining.
He looks like he’s trying to add things in his head, but I stop him.
“I’m not pregnant. We had sex the weekend of the wedding.”
The look on his face tells me he has no idea what that means so I clarify.
“We’ve only been having sex for three weeks. If by some crazy chance I
was pregnant, we wouldn’t even know yet.”
He looks relieved…until I see the wheels spinning in his head.
“I did that thing.” He gives me a look. “You know what I'm talking
about.”
If by thing he means the night he snuck through my bedroom window and
stuck his cum in my pussy with his fingers. Then yes, I know what thing. But
that was a while ago.
“We’re fine.”
I, however, am not. Another wave of nausea hits me, worse than before.
“Do you have any ginger ale downstairs?”
He looks between me and the door of his bedroom, almost like he’s
debating making a run for it.
What the actual fuck.
“Are you serious right now?”
“I love you,” he repeats. “But I’m not ready to be a dad. Christ. We
haven’t even graduated from high school yet. I know you probably don’t
believe in abort—”
That does it. There is no need to talk about this because there is no baby.
“Would you shut up? I’m not pregnant.” I get off the bed, intending to
leave. “But it’s nice to know if I was, you wouldn’t respect my choices.”
His eyes widen. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I think you should take a test. Just to be sure.”
“Fine. I will get one on my way home. Without you around.”
He looks like he wants to argue, but I don’t give him the chance.
I throw my sweatshirt over my head, slip my sneakers on, then grab my
purse and overnight bag.
He tugs on my arm. “Sawyer.”
“What—”
He kisses me so gently…like I’m made out of glass.
“Whatever happens, I’m in this.”
“I know my body, Cole. I’m not pregnant. But, since you don’t believe
me, I’ll take a damn test.”
Hell, I’ll take as many as I can afford to prove him wrong.
“I don’t want to fight with you. You’ve just been so moody the past two
weeks—”
“Have a good day.” I push him away. “Me and my moody ass are
leaving.”
“Sawyer,” he calls out when I reach the door.
“What?”
“I love you.”
My heart skips a beat. “I love you, too.”
Yes, I am.
Sawyer: That you didn’t believe me? Yes. That I’m not pregnant? No.
Like he said before, we’re only eighteen. We have our whole lives ahead
of us to have babies.
Cole: I won’t apologize for being worried and wanting to make sure we’re in
the clear. There are two of us in this relationship, you know.
Cole: You better tell Sawyer’s parents the truth right now, shithead. Or I will.
The least he can do is look her parents in the eyes and explain to them
why their daughter is lying in a hospital bed…fighting for her life.
T he room feels freezing cold the moment I walk inside.
But it’s nothing compared to the icy chill up my spine when I see her.
Mr. Church told me it was a lot to take in, but I didn’t listen.
A slew of cords and IV’s surround her.
A mask covers most of her face…one that’s hooked up to a machine.
There’s a bandage on her forehead. I’m guessing from when she
collapsed and hit her head on the sink.
But it’s the lifeless way she’s lying there that does me in.
For as long as I’ve known this girl, she’s been a spitfire…lighting up my
life with her sass and sarcasm.
With her big heart.
I want nothing more than for her to wake up and tell me it will all be
fine…but she can’t.
Chest heavy, I take the seat on the left because there’s less shit in my
way.
I hate that her glasses are off and I can’t look into her eyes, so I reach for
her hand instead.
There are a million questions I have for her about how we ended up
here…but none of them matter right now.
Bringing her hand to my lips, I give her a kiss.
Then I stand up.
Because I am not watching her wither away like this.
I refuse to.
The girl I love isn’t a goddamn wilting flower.
She’s a motherfucking fighter.
All her life she’s been fighting society, the assholes who bullied her…
even her own mother.
But right now, I need her to fight for me…for us.
“You better fucking fight, Bible Thumper.” Leaning over the bed, I glare
at her. “Fight for me the way I fought for you…because I can’t do this
without you.”
I won’t.
Without her...there is no me.
Chapter 91
COLE
I hear bickering in the hall the second I walk outside her room.
“Everything was great before she started hanging out with
you,” Dylan screams at Bianca. “You screwed her up with all
your manipulation and bullshit. Constantly making her feel like she wasn’t
good enough. She’s dying in there because of you.”
“Kind of like what you did to Liam?” Bianca snaps.
Jesus. This is the last thing Sawyer would want.
Before anyone can stop her, Dylan swings her fist into Bianca’s face.
“You little bitch.”
“Hey.” Wrapping his arms around her waist, Jace yanks his girlfriend
back. “That’s enough.”
Mouth open in shock, Bianca places her hand on her red cheek. “Did you
seriously just punch me?”
Bianca lunges toward Dylan, but Oakley grabs her. “He said enough.”
The fact Oakley’s still here tells me he still hasn’t told them the truth yet.
I stride toward them, but Dylan’s isn’t done.
“God, your family is so fucked up.” She’s screaming at Jace, attempting
to wiggle out of his arms, but it’s obvious her actual wrath is directed at me
and Bianca. “Why did they have to mess with her? She was perfect.” Big,
ugly tears roll down her cheeks as she looks my way. “She was so fucking
perfect and he ruined her…because that’s what Cole does. He shatters
amazing people…right before they die.”
Bianca rears back like she’s been punched again and Jace filches.
I just stand there and take it.
Dylan’s angry and confused. She needs someone to blame. I get it.
Dylan’s eyes sharpen on me. “She was perfect, and she loved you so, so
much. All she ever wanted was to be good enough for you…and you
destroyed her.”
Dylan’s right. I do destroy people.
But I never wanted to destroy Sawyer.
All I wanted to do was love her.
“No, he didn’t,” Oakley whispers, his voice hoarse. “Cole wasn’t the one
supplying Sawyer with Adderall for months…I was.”
“Let me go,” Dylan grunts, slapping Jace’s arm.
When he does, she gets in Oakley’s face. “Tell me you’re joking.” The
sorrow in her expression is replaced by pure rage as she shoves him. “Tell me
you’re fucking joking, Oakley.”
There are tears in Oakley’s eyes when he looks at her.
Good. Hurt, motherfucker.
“I’ve been working for Loki, and Sawyer asked me to get—”
The sharp sting of Dylan’s hand slapping his already bruised cheek is so
loud I feel it. “You’re disgusting.” Dropping her voice, she leans in close.
“You better pray she’s okay. Because if she’s not…I will never fucking
forgive you.”
She stalks off in a cloud of fury.
Jace glares at Oakley. “Jesus Christ. I don’t even know what to say to you
right now.” His gaze shifts to Bianca and then me before settling on Bianca.
“I always put you first. Every single fucking time I choose you and this
goddamn family over her.” He backs away. “Not anymore.”
“Jace,” Bianca calls out, her voice trembling.
Ignoring her, he chases after Dylan.
I look at Oakley. “Tell her parents. Now.”
“I already did. I was coming out here to tell everyone else too, but Dylan
and Bianca were already fighting when I came back.” He exhales a shaky
breath. “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t. An apology won’t fix this, asshole.”
“I know it won’t,” He braces himself against the wall. “I just—”
His eyes roll back and his body breaks out in a fit of jerks and shakes.
Bianca’s quick on her feet and makes herself a cushion for him before he
hits the floor and cracks his head.
“Cole, I need your help. He’s too heavy.”
He’s the last person in the world I want to help right now…but I know
Sawyer would want me to.
So I do.
“T he doctor thinks you have brain damage,” I tell her. “I know it’s
scary and it really sucks, but…we’ll make it through this.” I squeeze her
hand. “Truth be told, you’re so damn smart…a little brain damage might
enable the rest of us to finally catch up with you…you know?”
Leaning over her bed, I place my lips on her forehead. “Whatever
happens when you come back to me…I’ll still love you. And I promise I’ll
never ever fucking leave you. Just please, Sawyer. Come back to me.”
“I ’m sorry I said those things the other day,” Dylan says beside me. “I
was angry and devastated.”
I turn to look at her. “And now?”
“I’m fucking petrified.” She starts sobbing so hard she shakes. “Her mom
doesn’t think she’ll make it.”
That doesn’t surprise me one bit. She’s always thought the worst of her
daughter…why would now be any different?
“Her mom is a cunt.”
She snorts through her tears. “Yeah, she is. God, she really fucking is.”
I cut my gaze to hers. “Don’t give up on her.”
“I won’t…I just.” Her bottom lips quivers. “I miss her.”
I miss her, too.
“G et out.”
Mrs. Church stares at me with wide eyes. “I beg your pardon?”
“You have no right to see her when you’re going around telling people
she won’t make it.” I grab her by the elbow and haul her ass back out to the
hallway. “Get the fuck out.”
She struggles against me, but I’m stronger. “Get your hands off me right
now before I call security.”
Mr. Church rushes over to us. “What the hell is going on?”
Face full of shock, she peers up at her husband. “Cole is trying to kick me
out of my own daughter’s room.”
Hell fucking yeah, I am. Sawyer can’t speak right now, so I’ll speak for
her.
“A daughter you don’t fucking deserve,” I seethe as I look at Sawyer’s
dad. “You know as well as I do, she’s a big reason Sawyer started taking
those pills, sir.” I turn my glare on her. “Maybe no one has the guts to say it
to your face, but I will. You’re poison. A horrible fucking mother. You might
be pretty on the outside, but you sure as hell are hideous on the inside.”
She slaps me. Hard. But I don’t care.
“I’ll never understand how someone as beautiful as Sawyer ever came out
of someone as ugly as you.”
She rears back. “How dare you.”
“How dare you, lady. How dare you make your daughter feel like she’s
not good enough when she is everything that is right with the world. How
dare you give up on her when she’s fighting like hell to come back to me.” I
look at Mr. Church. “There is never a reason good enough to stay with
someone who treats her own flesh and blood like she does. Ever.”
Mr. Church’s eyebrows shoot up. “I—”
“Cole’s right,” Dylan says behind me. “I was there for one of the dress
fittings. Sawyer had already lost a little weight at that point and was feeling
good about herself. I don’t think she was looking to lose more, but your wife
insisted she needed too.”
He turns his now livid eyes on his wife. “Jolene—”
“It was a wedding,” she screams. “My gosh, you people are acting like I
told her to starve herself. I had no idea she was taking pills to lose the weight.
I never would have been okay with that.” She jabs a finger in the air. “I just
wanted her to be healthy with some diet and exercise. That doesn’t make me
a bad mother.”
Mr. Church makes a painful noise in his throat. “What about happy?”
Jolene looks like that’s a foreign concept to her. “I don’t—”
“You spent so much time worrying about her weight and what other
people thought…but zero worrying about her happiness.” His expression is
etched with pain as he brushes past her. “You make me sick.”
“W ell, I told your mother off,” I inform her. “And before you get mad,
I don’t regret it. Not one single bit. She needed to hear how much she was
hurting you.” I kiss her hand. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you again, Sawyer.
Not without me hurting them right back and making them pay.”
I kiss her forehead. “I just need you to wake up so I can prove it to you.”
Because without her…there is no me.
“I spoke to the coach at Duke’s Heart,” Jace says. “He sends his…” he
stops short before he finishes his sentence. “He told me to have you
to give him a call and reschedule whenever you’re able to.”
I don’t care.
The only thing I care about is her.
He squeezes my shoulder. “You’ve been here for five days. I think you
should go home and rest for a bit. Or at least take a shower.”
No. I need to be here the second she wakes up.
Because she will wake up.
She has to.
EGiven
verything passes in a whirl as I trudge up to the waiting room.
everyone’s eyes are puffy and glassy…I take it Jolene told them all
the news.
Expression full of sorrow, Jace walks over and wraps his arms around
me. “I’m so fucking sorry, Cole.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a priest with a bible in his hand talking
to Sawyer’s grandfather and uncle.
The very same priest who presided over mom and Liam’s funeral.
No.
Pushing Jace out of the way, I march over to Sawyer’s goldfish tank of a
hospital room and bang my fist against the glass. “You fucking promised.”
My voice is so thick with tears they’re the only words I can get out.
She made me promise not to leave her…and I made her promise not to
ever give up on me.
But only one of us is breaking theirs.
Wherever she goes…I go too.
Because without her there is no me.
Chapter 94
COLE
T he lights are turned off when I walk into the room and a nurse is at
her bedside positioning her on her side.
“Just a few minutes,” she whispers.
I suppress the urge to tell her to fuck off.
They change shifts soon and the nurse coming in is a little more
understanding of my need to see Sawyer whenever the hell I want.
I wait until she slips out the door and crawl into the bed with her.
I’m probably not supposed to, but a bulk of the machines are gone now,
and I need to be close to her.
“Hey, you,” I whisper, draping my arm around her and reaching for her
hand. “Wake up whenever you’re ready, okay?” I kiss the spot below her ear.
“I’ll be here.”
My chest ripples with relief and appreciation when she squeezes my
hand.
I look up at the ceiling. “Thank you.”
He came through for me…I know he did.
Chapter 95
SAWYER
W aking up from a coma feels like being told you attended some
epic wild party…that you have absolutely no recollection of.
At first you have no idea why everyone is making such a
big deal about it…until they start filling you in on all the pieces you missed.
I had a heart attack—or cardiac arrest—depending on which parent of
mine you talk to.
I was in a coma for seven days. Yikes.
And the scariest of all…I was taken off life support. Holy shit.
No wonder my parents are looking at me like I’m a ghost. I almost was.
“Are you okay?”
“Do you need anything?”
“Is there anything we can get you?”
“Are you cold?”
“Do you want a blanket?”
“What’s two plus two?”
My head swirls as I try to process all these questions.
“I think she needs a little more time,” Cole says, wrapping his arm around
my waist. Despite the nurses trying to kick him out of my bed, he refuses to
leave. Which is just fine by me. “We need to give her some space.”
Thank God someone said it. As happy as I am to see everyone—and to
be alive—I need a minute to play catch up and get my bearings.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Mama questions. “What’s five
plus five?”
Daddy giving me CPR in the bathroom and ten.
I open my mouth to answer, but Daddy sighs.
“Jolene, will you stop?”
“I’m just trying to make sure she’s not brain damaged.”
Say what? “Brain damaged?”
The terror in my voice must be evident because Cole barks, “Out. Now.
The doctors specifically told us to take it slow and you’re scaring the shit out
of her.”
Nodding, Daddy points to the door. “You heard him.”
Mama looks like she wants to argue but stalks off instead.
Well, okay then.
My eyes ping-pong between Cole and my dad. “Do I have brain
damage?”
They exchange a worried glance.
“Do you feel like you do?” Cole asks.
I think about this for a second and decide even if I did, it probably isn’t
something I’d be aware of anyway. “No?”
A smile plays on his lips. “I think you’ll be just fine, Bible Thumper.”
I look at my dad. “You gave me CPR.”
His forehead wrinkles. “Of course, I did.”
“I thought you hated me,” I whisper.
I thought everyone hated me.
The pain in his eyes is unmistakable. “Never in a million years,
sweetheart.”
My throat prickles as I reach for his hand. “I hate fighting with you. Let’s
never do it again, okay?”
Smiling, he gives it a squeeze. “Deal.” Wiping away tears, he stands up.
“Is there anything you want? Anything I can get you?”
Water. Lots and lots of water. My mouth feels like the Sahara.
“Am I allowed to have water?”
He juts his head toward the door. “Let me go find out. If so, I’ll bring you
the best water I can find, okay?”
“Sounds perfect.”
He’s walking to the door when I halt him. “Daddy?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
It feels like forever since I’ve told him and that is not okay. Especially
after what happened.
His eyes become glassy. “I love you too, sweetheart.”
I turn to Cole. “You.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Yeah?”
I lean my forehead against his. “I love you, too.”
A triumphant grin plays on his lips. “I know.”
An awkward silence descends as we both tiptoe around the elephant in
the room.
I can’t even imagine how he feels. If Cole kept something like this from
me, and then almost died because of it…I’d be utterly devastated.
His pain trumps any embarrassment I feel.
“I’m so sorry.”
Anger tightens his features. “Are you done?”
“Done?”
“Taking pills to lose weight you didn’t need to lose to begin with and
lying to me about it?”
Wow…talk about a loaded question.
I mean the obvious answer is yes…I don’t want to die.
But my head space regarding my weight? I don’t know how to answer
that. I’m one hot mess right now.
The only thing I can tell him is the truth.
“I almost lost you and everyone else I care about.” I grab his face. “I
don’t ever want that to happen again. I’m done taking Adderall.”
Bringing my hand to his mouth, he kisses the inside of my wrist. “Then I
accept your apology. But you better believe I’m going to be on your ass about
this.” Deep lines of pain form along his forehead and his voice drops to a
whisper. “I thought you were going to die, Sawyer.” His hurt is so tangible I
feel it blazing right through me. “I thought you gave up on me…on us.”
A deep ache fills my chest. I hate what I put him through.
Choking back emotions that feel like razor blades, I utter, “I promised
that would never happen.”
I meant it.
The only thing I remember from my coma was feeling like someone was
waiting for me and that I needed to get to them as soon as possible.
That someone was my Colton.
Colton who’s looking at me with so much love it takes my breath away.
“I love you, Bible Thumper.”
“I love you,” I tell him again, because if there’s one thing I’ve learned
from what happened, it’s that you can never tell the people you care about
that you love them enough.
You never know what words might be your last.
He goes to kiss me, but I stop him. “I’ve been in a coma for seven days,
remember?”
“I don’t give a fuck,” he says before he slams his mouth against mine.
My dad clears his throat. “I got you some water.” He glares daggers at
Cole. “One of these days I’m gonna shoot your ass.”
Cole just smiles. “No, you won’t.”
“H ey,”“Of
Dylan says as she taps on the door. “Can I come in?”
course.”
She takes a few steps forward, then hesitates, wringing her hands. “I’m
really sorry—”
“Dylan.”
She has nothing to apologize for.
Our eyes meet…and then she’s running and we’re wrapping our arms
around each other.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I’m so sorry.”
“I love you,” she whispers. “You scared me so much.”
My chest constricts as I hug her tighter. “I love you, too. I’m so sorry.”
She edges away, cupping my face in her hands. “I wish you could see
yourself the way I see you, Sawyer.”
Oh, man. I was already teary-eyed, now she’s going to make me cry so
hard I’ll have snot coming out of my nose.
“I—”
A knock at the door cuts me off.
“Sorry to interrupt,” some woman says. “But I need to speak with Sawyer
privately.”
Uh-oh. This can’t be good.
I’ve been awake for almost two whole days now and I’ve never seen this
woman in my life.
Dylan looks between us before her gaze lands on me. “I’ll be right
outside, okay?”
I want to tell her not to leave, but this woman doesn’t look like she’d
approve.
“Okay.”
She gives my hand a squeeze before she walks off. “Can I get you
anything while I’m gone? Juice? Wat—”
“Are you still my best friend?”
Her smile reaches her eyes. “Always.”
I return her smile. “Then I’m good.”
My eyes drift to the woman pulling up a chair beside my bed.
Like me, she has brown hair and brown eyes…only her eyes are harsh.
Like she means business.
Oh, boy.
“Hi.” I gulp. “Who are you?”
“My name is Sandy. I’m one of the psychologists here at the hospital.
Your father asked me to come down and speak with you.”
Geez. You’d think he would have mentioned something about that when
we talked earlier. “Oh. Why?”
She studies my face. “I specialize in eating disorders.”
I almost fall right out of bed.
“It’s nice to meet you, but I think there’s been a mistake. I don’t have an
eating disorder.”
She taps her pen against her pad. “So how did you end up here then?” She
cocks her head to the side, assessing me. “Is it because you’re addicted to
amphetamines?”
I’ve never been so stumped in my life. I feel like I’m in the hot seat of all
hot seats.
“Well, no…not exactly. I was only taking the Adderall, so I wasn’t
hungry, and I’d keep losing we…” My voice trails off as the lightbulb goes
on. “Shit.”
Her harsh eyes soften a fraction. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
I don’t think I could say no even if I wanted to. “Yeah?”
“Before the Adderall, how often did you think about your weight and
food?”
I try to calm my shaking hands, but it’s no use. “A lot.”
She scribbles something else down in her notepad. “Weekly? Daily?
Multiple times a day?”
“At least once every hour,” I admit.
Nodding, she smiles sympathetically. “Eating disorders aren’t always
anorexia or bulimia, Sawyer. And to be frank? It sounds like you have some
major issues with not only food, but how you view yourself.”
She’s not wrong.
I blow out a ragged breath. “Yeah…you may have a point there.”
She places her pen and pad down. “I have to ask you another very serious
question.”
“Okay.”
“If I told you—after you’re discharged, of course—that I wanted you to
come to my inpatient eating disorder clinic for three weeks…and then meet
with me for weekly sessions after. What would you say?”
I’d say—holy shit…that’s a lot to take in.
“I’d say I’m nervous,” I settle on, before it occurs to me. “I’d also say I
have graduation coming up and—”
“We can have your school send your assignments to the clinic so you
won’t fall behind.” She folds her hands in her lap. “But the thing is…this
won’t work and I can’t help you if you don’t want it. You have to want it.”
Tears prickle the back of my throat. “I know I want to feel better about
myself. I know I don’t want to go back to using Adderall to lose weight.”
“That’s a good place to start.” Looking at her watch, she says, “What do
you know, I have the next hour free. Why don’t you tell me a little about
yourself?”
Part of me wants to run away from confronting these issues because it’s
scary as hell.
However, the biggest part of me, the one beating in my chest—the one
that almost died because I never felt good enough—wants to get better for
myself.
And for the people I love.
Chapter 96
SAWYER
O h, no.
My stomach drops the moment I spot him at my door.
“Hi, Mr. Gonzalez.” I plaster a fake smile on my face. “Come
in.”
I expect him to tell me I’m fired, but to my absolute surprise, he folds his
arms around me. “Please don’t die.”
Turns out I was wrong. This is the most awkward hug I’ve ever had.
The man is practically sobbing in my arms. “Stone is a horrible waitress.
Gets all the orders mixed up. Curses at customers. Everybody complains.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I’m sure he’ll get better…eventually.”
He edges away, his eyes pleading. “When can you come back?”
Oh, boy.
“Well, I get discharged tomorrow…but I have to go to a special clinic for
three weeks.”
“Oh.” Panic flashes in his eyes. “But then you’ll be back?”
My, how the tables have turned. “Sure, of course.”
He holds up a bag. “Good. I brought you some chicken.”
I eagerly take the bag from him. It smells delicious.
“Thanks, Mr. G.”
“See you in three weeks,” he says as he treks out the door. “Don’t be
late.”
Some things will never change.
Sighing, I open the bag and take a big whiff. Heaven.
“For goodness’ sake, Sawyer Grace. You had a heart attack two weeks
ago and you’re eating fried chicken?”
Here we go.
I’ve been meaning to have this conversation. I’ve just been putting it off
because I know it will hurt her.
But not nearly as much as it’s going to hurt me.
She’s my mother. The woman who gave birth to me.
She’s taken me to doctor appointments, celebrated all my birthdays, taken
care of me whenever I got sick, showed up to all my school award
ceremonies, and so many other things throughout the years.
But…she’s also given me scars.
My whole life I’ve tried to figure out why she is the way she is. Why
she’s so focused on appearance that it takes precedence over everything
else…but I honestly don’t know.
My grandmother never bothered with superficial things, and my
grandfather is the same way, so it doesn’t make any sense.
And then it hit me. Society screwed her too.
All her life people have droned on and on about how beautiful she is.
How she has the most stunning smile. The nicest teeth and hair. The most
gorgeous face. The most perfect body.
But no one ever told her she was more than any of those things.
Therefore, her looks are the only thing she believes she has going for her.
Unfortunately, she passed that toxic belief down to her daughters.
She needs help.
But until she gets that help…I have to do the hardest thing I’ve ever
done.
I have to break up with my mother.
“I love you, Mama.”
And I mean it. Even with all the bad…I still love her.
I always will.
But I have to cut this thread and do what’s best for me.
She blinks, looking so uncomfortable I could scream. “If you’re just
buttering me up so I’ll let you eat that chicken—”
“Mama, I really need you to listen to me.”
Concern washes over her face. “What’s going on? I thought you were
getting discharged tomorrow—”
“I am.”
Her concern changes to confusion. “Then what—”
“All my life you’ve made me feel like I’m not good enough.”
Frustration lines her face. “For heaven’s sake, Sawyer Grace. Stop with
the dramatics. I’ve only been trying to help you.”
“Help me what?” I ask honestly, because if there was a lesson in all this,
I’ve obviously missed it.
“Help you be healthier.” Her hands find her hips. “The doctors can blame
it on Adderall until they’re blue in the face, but between you and me, I think
what happened was a side effect of how heavy you used to be. I told you all
that extra weight wasn’t good for your health.”
My heart crumbles. She’s never going to get it.
“You’re not good for my health.”
Her mouth drops open. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Mama. I said you’re not good for my health. Which is
why, after I’m discharged from the clinic, I’ll be staying with Dylan and Jace.
Well, until they open up the dorms for Duke’s Heart. Point is, I’m moving
out.”
It broke my father’s heart when I told him the news, but he’s supportive
of me doing whatever it takes to not end up back here.
“What? Why?” she questions.
I repeat what I said before. “Because you’re not healthy for me.” I wipe
the tears falling down my cheeks with the back of my hand. “And I’m so
tired of never measuring up to your standards…so I’m done trying. I’m done
with you.”
It’s time to have my own standards.
“What do you mean you’re done? I’m your mother, Sawyer Grace. You
can’t be done with me.”
“Then get help. See a counselor, talk to someone, get your shit together.
Because the way you treat me…the way you treat yourself…it’s not okay.”
“Sawyer Grace, you better stop talking to me like that. I am not a crazy
person.”
“And I’m not a fat person,” I scream, my voice cracking. “I’m your
daughter. A daughter you’re supposed to love…but can’t unless she’s
perfect.” I look her in the eyes. “I’m never gonna be perfect, Mama. Which
means I can’t be your daughter…not until you accept and love me the way I
am.”
“I’m tired of being blamed for trying to help you. But go ahead, Sawyer
Grace. Keep burying your head in the sand and deluding yourself into
thinking you weren’t fat. Guarantee you’ll be right back here.”
She storms out of the room so fast there’s practically a trail of dust behind
her.
I wish I could say I’m surprised, but I’m not.
But no matter how much it hurts…I know I did the right thing.
Chapter 98
SAWYER
“O
life.
kay, don’t freak out,” Dylan says as she tugs on the zipper for dear
Just the words you want to hear from your best friend when she’s doing
up your prom dress.
“What happened?”
“It won’t go up. But hey, it is not your fault at all. It’s Jace’s.”
I look over my shoulder at her. “What does Jace have to do with my dress
not fitting?”
“He used a humidifier the other day for his sinuses and it obviously
shrunk your dress.” She scowls. “The rat sneezy bastard.”
I have to stifle a laugh. I love how she’s trying to protect me from the
truth.
I gained weight at the clinic…a lot.
Turns out when you’re not stuffing amphetamines down your throat and
you start eating again, your body soaks up the calories like a sponge.
Deep down I had a feeling the dress wouldn’t fit—hell, I’m surprised I
even managed to get it over my head—but it’s so freaking pretty, I still
couldn’t help but try.
Fortunately, I still have my bridesmaid dress—the one from the first
fitting—at Dylan’s house.
“No big deal. I’ll just wear the—”
“All right, chop chop, bitches. I don’t have all day,” Bianca snaps,
breezing into the bedroom like a storm.
When I told her I planned on doing my own hair and makeup for prom,
she just about had a coronary.
Now here she is…along with a suitcase full of makeup and hair tools.
Good Lord.
She glares at us. “Did I speak Russian or something?” She makes a karate
chop with her hands. “What part of chop chop don’t you two understand?
Prom starts in two hours.”
Dylan and I exchange a glance.
Bianca arches one perfectly tweezed eyebrow. “What’s going on?”
Dylan stands in front of me protectively. “I’ll tell you, but so help me
God if you say one negative thing, I will shove a curling iron up your ass and
make you my puppet.” She clears her throat. “The dress doesn’t fit.”
I’m expecting Bianca to freak out, but to my surprise she’s totally calm.
“Okay.” She examines me from head to toe. “No big deal. This is why we
have backup plans.” She looks at Dylan. “You know that curling iron you
want to shove up my ass?”
Dylan blinks. “Yeah?”
“Turn it on for me.” She taps a few buttons on her phone. “I’ll be back.”
I’m so confused. “Where are you going?”
“To be your freaking fairy godmother.”
B ianca“What
hands me a black garment bag when she returns. “Here.”
is it?”
She unzips the bag. “Your prom dress, silly.”
Sure enough, it is.
I look at the identical dress hanging up on Dylan’s bedroom door. “But
that—”
“I got you a new one.”
My throat stings with tears. “You didn’t have to—”
The snapping of her fingers cuts me off. “Blah, blah, blah. Quit yapping,
Church girl. Time is ticking. We have to get you into this thing now.”
I throw my robe off and step into the dress.
“What size—” I start to ask, but then I stop myself.
The size doesn’t matter.
I’m going to prom in a beautiful dress with the guy who loves me for me.
“H oly Bianca
shit,” Dylan sighs. “You look so beautiful.”
grabs a tissue from the box and starts dabbing her eyes.
“It’s my greatest work yet. Per-fucking-fection.” She sniffs. “You ready?”
After all that? Hell, yeah.
Grabbing me by the shoulders, she turns me around.
Hmm. Not what I expected.
The long green off-the-shoulder satin V-neck with an empire waistline
dress really flatters my figure and makes me feel gorgeous.
There’s only one problem.
“Uh…Bianca. I’m not trying to critique your skills or anything, but did
you even put makeup on me?”
I look exactly like me. Well, a less tired and glossy lip version of me.
“Of course, I did. I put a little cover up under your eyes. A little powder
on your nose, I even used your favorite lip gloss…clear.” Her eyes meet mine
in the mirror as she rests her chin on my shoulder. “I told you…you’re a
ten.”
My first impulse is to decline or turn it into a joke.
But not this time.
Instead I look at my reflection and smile.
Because one thing counseling has made me realize is that I have so much
love in my heart...and I've given none of it to myself.
Chapter 99
SAWYER
T he hotel is the biggest one I’ve ever been to and so classy and
glamorous it makes total sense why the prom theme was red
carpet.
I look up at the gigantic crystal chandelier swinging above us. “It’s so
beautiful.”
Cole shakes his head like he was lost in his thoughts. “Sorry. What?”
“I was commenting on the chandelier.”
He looks up. “Oh.” He shrugs. “It’s nice…for a chandelier.”
I’m really trying not to let negative thoughts enter my head, but I can’t
help it. Cole’s been a little distracted this evening. Like he has something else
on his mind.
Something that’s definitely not me.
He spins us around the dance floor. “What time does this thing end
again?”
He’s got to be freaking kidding me.
Granted, this shindig is a little boring. Okay, a lot boring. But we only get
one senior prom.
“Eleven,” I grit through my teeth.
Frustration lines his handsome face. “What time is it now?”
“I have no idea.”
Because unlike him, I’m not an impatient ass who’s in a rush to get out of
here.
I hate the way my stomach tightens with anxiety.
But not nearly as much as I hate that negative voice whispering untrue,
mean things in my ear.
Things like—Cole doesn’t want me anymore because I’ve gained weight.
It’s a stupid voice. I know better than to listen to it.
Nothing positive comes from that voice. In fact, it literally ruins almost
everything in my life.
However, this is the first time since the hospital that we’ve had any time
to ourselves as a couple…and he hasn’t even so much as made a sexual
innuendo.
I know my man—I know him very well—and this isn’t him.
Given the only thing that’s changed since the last time we had sex is my
appearance...my weight gain is the only possible conclusion I can come up
with.
“I need some air.”
Nope. Can’t run away from this.
Sandy has me doing this new thing where I confront these dark thoughts
instead of stuffing them down.
Because stuffing them down landed me in the hospital with a heart attack.
“Actually no, I don’t need air.”
He blinks. “Okay.”
I jab his chest with my finger. “Let’s get one thing straight, buster. If you
don’t want to be with me, or if you’re no longer attracted to me because I
gained weight…you can go fuck yourself.”
Fuck that negative voice.
His eyebrows shoot up to the ceiling. “What—”
The music shuts off abruptly. “Ladies and gentlemen, if I can have your
attention, please. It’s time to announce the prom king…and his queen.”
The room erupts in cheers. I picked one hell of a time to start a
confrontation.
I can feel everyone’s eyes on me—well, not me—Cole.
He’s a shoo-in.
However, Cole looks like he couldn’t care less about being prom king.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Leaning in, I hiss, “You used to not be able to keep your hands off me.
But tonight? You haven’t even so much as grabbed my ass.”
And now, I feel like an idiot.
What girl in her right mind yells at her boyfriend for not grabbing her ass
in the middle of prom?
This girl does. “I’m sor—”
Seizing the base of my neck, he pulls me in for a kiss so hot, so lewd, it
sends a rush of heat from the tips of my shoes to the top of my head.
“It’s prom, you look beautiful, and you have a fancy dress on,” he exhales
in a rush. “I was trying to respect you and be a gen—”
“The new prom king of Royal Hearts Academy is,” the announcer
interjects. “Our favorite quarterback—Cole Covington.”
I feel like an even bigger idiot now. Here he was trying to be respectful,
and I was all but begging him to violate me in front of everyone.
“I’m sor—”
In one fell swoop, his hand wraps around my wrist and he starts tugging
me.
Holy shit. He’s walking so fast I can barely keep up with him.
“Where are we going?” I ask when we reach the hallway.
He drags me into an empty banquet hall next door. “I got us a hotel room
for the night.” I gasp in surprise when he lifts me up and sets me on a table.
“But I’m sick of waiting.”
Oh, hell. I’m such a damn fool. “So don’t.”
He crashes his mouth against mine.
Our kiss is fire and ice…saint meets sinner.
A frantic, palpable need so combustible there should be flames around
us.
I yank his fly down as he plants a line of kisses on my neck and palms my
breast.
“I’m sorry,” he rasps.
“Why—”
I can barely get the word out before I hear the sound of material ripping
and my breast pops out into his eager hand.
“That’s why.”
My head lolls back as he teases my nipple with frantic flicks of his
tongue. “Oh, God.”
His groan is low and feral. “I missed you so fucking much.”
My heart takes flight. “I missed you too.”
Plumping my tit in his hand, he looks up at me as he sucks my nipple into
his mouth. “I was talking to them.”
Of course he was.
“Asshole.”
His lips curve in a vulgar smirk as he reaches under my dress. “You
should stop wearing panties.”
“Why?”
He shreds the lacy fabric down the middle as though it were nothing more
than paper. “They keep getting in my way.” Not wasting any time, he licks
two fingers and shoves them inside me. “Fuck my fingers. Now.”
Yes, sir.
I proceed to do exactly that as he strokes himself with his free hand.
“Has anyone seen Cole Covington?” the announcer from the banquet hall
asks. “We need to give him his crown.”
His eyes darken. “Spread your legs, Bible Thumper.”
I spread them as wide as they can possibly go as his hands slide under my
ass and he angles my hips.
We both make a strangled noise as he drives inside me with one powerful
thrust.
“Fuck.” Pulling back, he slams into me again. Harder this time. “Feels so
fucking good.”
It does. It so fucking does.
“I guess we’ll move onto the prom queen,” the announcer declares. “No
surprise here. It’s Casey Mulligan.”
“Fuck me harder,” I moan, dragging my nails down his back.
He fucks me so hard the table we’re on starts knocking against the wall.
Loudly.
“Do you hear that?” some woman yells.
“You gonna come for me like a good girl?” Cole roars, picking up the
pace.
He’s fucking me so good, I’ll do anything he wants right now.
I claw at his back as intense pleasure sizzles up my spine. “Oh, God. Oh,
my fucking God.”
“It’s time for the prom king and queen to dance,” the announcer states
nervously. “So once again…has anyone seen the prom king?”
Yeah, he’s busy fucking his girlfriend.
I cling to his shoulders and rock my hips as tension in my core tightens.
“I’m close.”
Reaching between us, he starts rubbing my clit vigorously. Sweet baby
Jesus.
I try to swallow my scream when the tension snaps and releases, but I
can’t. It feels too good.
“Fuck yeah,” he groans as I clench and shudder around him. “Come all
over this cock.”
I come so hard I don’t just see stars, I see the entire solar system.
“So beautiful,” he groans. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Sawyer.”
I kiss up his jaw as he spasms against me. “So are you.”
There’s a sheen of sweat on his face, his hair is a mess, and his suit is in
disarray…but he’s never looked sexier.
And I’ve never felt luckier.
Because he loves me.
Even when I didn’t know how to love myself.
Chapter 100
SAWYER
I look down as my phone vibrates for what feels like the hundredth
time in an hour.
Good Lord.
Making sure they’re still calling up the students in the B row, I answer
him.
Sawyer: I’m ignoring you because we’re about to graduate and all you care
about is whether or not I’m wearing panties.
Cole: Your point?
Stubborn ass.
Sawyer: That’s not the way it works, champ. You’re gonna have to try a little
harder.
Cole: How hard?
Sawyer: Jonas hard.
Cole: Fuck that. I’d rather cut off my ears.
I grin.
Even though we’re seven chairs away from each other, I can feel the heat
from his gaze.
Cole: But the thought of anyone else having you makes me jealous.
Cole: Which is why I always want you close.
Wait a second…
The last word of those texts are titles of Nick songs.
My fingers start flying across the keyboard…until the kid next to me
hisses, “Can you move?”
Oh shit. Of course, this is when they call up our row.
I watch as Miles Cabalo—our valedictorian—walks across the stage to
accept his diploma.
I could waste my time being upset about the fact that I didn’t get it.
“Sawyer Church,” the announcer calls out.
But I’d rather focus on the things that actually matter.
Drawing a deep breath, I walk across the stage.
“Whoop. Whoop. Go, short stack,” Oakley yells from the back row as I
accept my diploma.
“Woo! Sawyer!” Dylan, Jace, and Bianca cheer.
“That’s my baby girl!” Daddy roars, causing everyone to laugh.
Like the people who were always there for me.
My heart nearly pounds out of my chest when they call Cole’s name.
“Lucky Seven!” someone shouts when he accepts his diploma, but
Colton’s attention is solely on me.
And the love of my life...who will always take my breath away.
I can’t help but smile as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me in for a
kiss.
Earlier this year, I thought I knew exactly what my life would be like.
But I was wrong.
Because sometimes when you least expect it…
The most popular quarterback can fall in love with the Jesus-loving nerd.
Pride swells in my chest and I cheer my lungs out as I watch Oakley walk
across the stage and accept his diploma.
The school pothead can end up becoming one of the smartest people you
know.
Tears prickle my eyes when I notice the green and black-tipped wings
fluttering above us.
You’ll see a butterfly in the middle of a rainstorm.
Epilogue
Series Order:
Cruel Prince (Jace’s Book)
Ruthless Knight (Cole’s Book)
Wicked Princess (Bianca’s Book) Available for Pre Order
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About the Author
Ashley Jade craves tackling different genres and tropes within romance. Her first loves are New Adult
Romance and Romantic Suspense, but she also writes everything in between including: contemporary
romance, erotica, and dark romance.
Her characters are flawed and complex, and chances are you will hate them before you fall head
over heels in love with them.
She's a die-hard lover of oxford commas, em dashes, music, coffee, and anything thought
provoking...except for math.
Books make her heart beat faster and writing makes her soul come alive. She's always read books
growing up and scribbled stories in her journal, and after having a strange dream one night; she decided
to just go for it and publish her first series.
It was the best decision she ever made.
If she's not paying off student loan debt, working, or writing a novel—you can usually find her
listening to music, hanging out with her readers online, and pondering the meaning of life.
Check out her social media pages for future novels.
She recently became hip and joined Twitter, so you can find her there, too.
She loves connecting with her readers—they make her world go round'.
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