by J Bree
After another tense minute of silence the doctor looks up and smiles at Lips again, all of the gloom gone from around him. “He’ll be ready to go by midday. Stop worrying about my problems and go get some sleep, my girl.”
When we arrive at the hotel, Lips and Harley leave together to ditch the stolen van. Avery doesn’t seem concerned, even as she threads her arm through mine so I can lead her up to the room without tripping onto her face while she focuses on her phone.
“I have us covered, no one will ever know this happened,” she murmurs to me, her eyes darting over to Blaise, but he’s fucking itching for a high and isn’t paying us any attention.
“And what exactly are you going to say to Harley about it? He won’t let this shit go, Floss.”
The lobby of the hotel is busy, and Blaise catches a lot of interested looks. It’s all men in suits doing the looking so they’re not at all interested in his talent, only the last name his bastard father saddled him with. He looks ready to take a swing at someone over it, so I nudge my sister just a little and then we both flank him to corral him into the elevator without bloodshed.
“Stop giving a shit about some stupid, brainless suit, Morrison,” Avery mutters, throwing an icy look at a group of the men just as the doors to the elevator shut.
Blaise grunts and rubs a hand over his face. “Any second now my phone will be ringing and then—“
I cut him off, “Then what? Your dad will yell at you for not being at school? Turn your fucking phone off, let the cunt rage at your voicemail instead. All he really cares about is his image, and you’re not running around naked or fucking some random Mounty in the lobby.”
Avery huffs at us both and mutters under her breath, “In his dreams. On repeat, every night he’s absolutely fucking a Mounty.”
Dead silence.
None of us say another word the entire way up to the penthouse, Blaise and I both practically vibrating with tension and Avery oozing with smugness. It’s like an itch across my skin, irritating the fuck out of me until I want to break something.
But I would never hurt my sister, and she knows it too.
She swipes us into the penthouse and opens the door up wide for us all, stalking off to one of the rooms and calling out to us, “I’ll leave you two to get absolutely fucking wasted instead of dealing with your issues… typical boy bullshit.”
I refuse to answer her or look Blaise’s way.
The Mounty is like a ticking time bomb in our family, sitting there waiting for the clock to wind down before destroying everything. The worst part is that the more I watch her, the more I realize she has no idea just how much power she has over us right now.
She has no idea we’re all circling her, stuck in her orbit, while she’s busy trying to… survive? Graduate? Fuck knows what she’s completely distracted by. She’s so secretive that every time I think I might have some sort of clue of what her story is, something new happens and I’m back at square one.
Blaise groans, side-eyeing me a little before he stomps through the room and out to the balcony.
That’s where Lips finds us an hour later.
I’m not expecting her to join us but she does, slipping out into the night air without a word. Blaise gives me a look as though I’ll throw her over the balcony for interrupting us, or for existing in the first place, but I have nothing left to say to her tonight.
Not without telling her how fucking badly I want her.
She doesn’t say a word. I’m not really expecting her to jump into our conversation, she’s never shown any interest in sports or cars before, and she just sits and stares out at the city lights. It’s the calmest I’ve seen her since we hit the city limits, like we’re up here in a little bubble together where none of the dirty, messy, violent parts of her hometown can touch her.
At some point, Blaise gets up and walks back into the room to take a leak. He hesitates for a second before squeezing her shoulder as he moves past, his eyes on the ground as he scampers away like a fucking coward.
I’ll call him out on it later.
I wait for a second to see if she runs away or has something to say but when the silence stretches out, I hold the bourbon out to her. “Drink?”
She grabs it and takes a swig straight from the bottle. I quirk an eyebrow at her, expecting some snark or fire back, but all she gives me is a tired look, one she’s way too young to be so damn good at. “I need a hell of a lot more than a glass can hold right now.”
“Not happy to be home?”
She scoffs at me. “Cut me some slack. I just found out Doc’s grandkid is going to be brutally murdered just because she can’t remember to take a damn pill.”
She groans and hangs her head, misery clinging to every inch of her.
I instantly want to fix every problem she’s ever had. “This Matteo will kill her instead of just getting rid of the baby?”
“He doesn’t exactly value life, in any form.”
Well, that’s fucking bleak. I nod slowly and look back over the lights so I don’t have to keep watching her, losing my goddamn mind over her. “I’ll pay. Get her out and I’ll pay for the costs.”
There’s a stunned silence for a second, one I refuse to be pissed at because of course it’s a shock to her that I’d give enough of a fuck to attempt to fix this. Fuck, I’d attempt to fix it even if she weren’t so fucking miserable about it. When she stares at me like she’s never seen me before, I give her a sidelong look back, taking what’s left of the blunt from the ashtray.
I hesitate for a second before offering it to her, but she waves me away. I should attempt to deflect her away from me for a second, but I can’t bring myself to do it. “I’m not a fan of domestic violence or women being killed. Besides, you just saved Joey. I owe you.”
She takes another swig of the bourbon, squeezing her eyes shut like she’s in pain and I’d like nothing more than to wipe it away for her. To just reach over and take the bottle, pull her into my arms, and have her riding my dick until she can’t think about any of this shit.
Her voice is nothing but a croak as she hands me back the bottle. “Thanks. I’ll reach out to her.”
I shrug and lift the bourbon to my lips, enjoying her eyes following the action as I drink straight from it just like she had done. Her eyes turn molten when I swipe my tongue across my lips, chasing any taste of her that I can because I’ll never fucking forget how sweet she really was.
It’s all I can think about.
She stands up and steps back through the door like a startled rabbit, and I know I’ve won something. I look back out at the city lights so I don’t chase after her.
She hesitates in the doorway for a second and says, “You don’t owe me. I did it for Avery and if you’d just stop hating me, I’d do it for you, too.”
My eyes don’t waver from the lights of the city because I can’t look at her right now without her reading way too fucking much all over my face.
All I can do is nod at her and pray she knows what I’m trying to say.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Blaise
If I had any sense at all, I’d start avoiding Lips like the fucking plague, but I’m obsessed with her. Fuck, it’s pathetic how desperately I want her. I’m obsessed with the shape of her lips when she smiles, the dry sound of her sarcastic laugh, and the fire that burns in her eyes when she’s fucking seething with rage. I can’t even get into my obsession with her hands and her legs, her ass and what little I’ve seen of her body thanks to her preference for oversized clothes.
The problem is that all three of us are fucked over her and no matter who she chooses, it’s going to be a fucking mess.
Even though I know I should just forget about her, just move on to someone else so I don’t have to face the music that she’s definitely going to pick Ash or Harley over me, I can’t help wanting to go looking for her when she skips dinner to study.
After we walk Avery back up to her room and find it empty, I go back to my room with
the other two like nothing is wrong, but there's no fucking way I can head to bed without knowing she's made it back safe as well. I change out of my uniform into sweats and a band tee, not bothering with shoes, and head for the door..
The other two side-eye me hard, but I slip away before it turns into a full blown argument… or a field trip for us all. I don’t want to have to share her right now. I want my next hit of her in private to get me through my withdrawals.
I’m fucking pathetic.
I pass by two teachers on my way down and even though it’s just about curfew time, they look the other way and scamper off like their asses are on fire. I smirk and there’s an extra pep in my fucking step as I push my way into the library, but it evaporates the second I see Annabelle looming over my Mounty.
Fuck.
I want to tear over to them and shove her away but then I hear Lips snarl at her, her voice carrying over to me loud and clear, “Hand it over or I’ll break every finger on your hand. One warning, that’s all you’re getting.”
Well now.
That might be fun to watch, and Annabelle’s eyes are wide as she stares at the single finger Lips is holding up, calm and completely prepared to break this bitch’s bones.
There’s quiet for a moment as Lips looks Annabelle up and down. I can’t see her face from here, but I bet she’s staring the bitch down for everything she’s done to us this year. All of the shit Avery found out about her and has been biding her time to ruin Summers fully.
The photos she took and spread around of my father’s letters.
I start toward them right as Lips holds out her hand for the iPod and Annabelle snaps back at her, “I’m not fucking giving it back to you. He doesn’t even let Ash touch it! I’ll be walking it back up to his room and telling him—“
I cut her off. “That you’ve stolen my iPod from my friend? That you’re a jealous, desperate mess and instead of doing your own work you want to trap me and leech off of me? That you’re hung up on Harley and hoping you’ll be able to get him back into your bed once you’ve secured eighteen years of child support from me?”
Annabelle whirls around to face me with a pout and tears in her eyes, but I’m too fucking furious to stop the scathing tirade spilling out of me. She’s always playing the fucking victim when she’s the one lying and exploiting everyone around her for her own sick games. “How about you tell me all about how you manipulated your way into my room to steal my father’s letters and post them for the whole fucking world to see? Or how you’re still posting daily about Rory trying to rape Avery? How about you tell me and the Mounty about how you helped that sick freak Lance steal her underwear and you tried to break into her room to let him mess with her shit?”
The color drains from her face. “Blaise, I—“
“Hand Lips my iPod. I gave it to her.”
Annabelle’s lip is still trembling as she smacks it into Lips’ hand, taking a step toward me with tears streaming down her face like she can have one last try at manipulating me.
I feel nothing.
I didn’t really feel anything toward her the entire time we were hooking up last year, but there’s something about girls crying that makes me feel like the biggest piece of shit. Probably because it reminds me of all of the times I’ve stumbled upon my mother sobbing quietly in a cupboard thanks to my fucking asshole father.
Lips huffs and moves to stalk away from us both, obviously thinking that I’m just going to let this bitch hang off of me, so I take a quick side step and sling my arm around her waist to catch her, pulling her into my side.
I turn my face into her hair and murmur,“I’m here to walk you back to your room, don’t run off without me.”
She startles a little, a blush creeping over her cheeks, but she doesn’t pull away from me so I take it as a win. I turn us both and start toward the door, trying not to bury my face in her hair and creep the hell out of her.
It’s so fucking tempting and Annabelle can see it too. “You know she spent the night with Harley while you were at Avery’s recital. You blame me for loving all three of you but it’s okay for her to play you all off of each other!”
Fuck her.
Lips tenses up and tries to shift away from me, but I tighten my arm around her because there’s no fucking way I’m letting Annabelle ruin this. If I could go back to freshman year and never give that bitch a moment of my time, I would in a heartbeat.
It’s probably a little too honest but I can’t help calling out over my shoulder, “Nice try, Summers, but we all know what’s going on. Harley has not been discreet and, like you said, I don’t give my music away to anyone. C’mon, Mounty. Avery will have my balls if I don’t get you back soon.”
She yells something back at me, but Lips and I get out the door and leave her behind. I don’t want to have to let Lips go, so before she can pull away, I grab the iPod from her and hand her one of the earphones as I flick through the last playlist I’d made for her to pick out a song. When the opening bars of ‘Iris’ start playing, the corners of her lips turn up and I feel like I’ve won something, because there’s nothing as good as making this girl smile.
Even if it’s just a little smirk.
We walk in silence, wrapped up in each other as we listen to the song, and the moment it ends I start it again, a wild grin tugging at my lips when she ducks her head to hide her own smile. When she doesn’t look back up, I glance down to see what’s caught her attention and land on my carnation skulls tattoos on the tops of my bare feet.
Oh God.
I don’t want to have to talk about them but if she asks me anything, I’ll cave in a hot minute. “Don’t ask about the tattoos, it’ll only push me to drink.”
We arrive at her room and she shrugs. “I’ll take a stab at it and say your dad. Yellow carnations aren’t exactly the norm to find on album covers so I looked them up. Disappointment and rejection. Didn’t make sense to me back then but now I know what a dick your dad is, I get it.”
Fuck.
Fuck, every time I speak to this girl she surprises me, and the idea that she’s cared enough about me and my music to look into my cover images makes me feel like I might do something fucking embarrassing here.
Like swoon.
Or push her up against this door and eat her out until she wakes the whole fucking building with her screaming.
The last one is too tempting for me to just push aside and when she fishes around in her bag for her keys, I grab her hand, leaning down until our noses brush. She stops breathing, but I can’t stop myself. I can’t be the one to pull away.
My voice is rough as I say, “Stop me now, Mounty, or I’m going to kiss you. No pity, no ulterior motives, just a kiss because I can’t stop myself.”
Her response is instant, her lips tilting up to meet mine and what little restraints I have on myself melt away as I meet her halfway.
This is the first kiss we should have had last time.
There’s no hesitance in me at all, not even at the thought of how much my friends would fucking hate me for doing this, and when she sucks my bottom lip between her teeth, all other thoughts evaporate as I grunt and slam her into the wall next to the door. I remember at the last second that the walls here are made of stone and she’ll get a fucking concussion if I shove her into it, and I slip my hand behind her head to cushion it. She kisses me like she needs my lips to survive, her hands scrabbling at my shirt to drag me closer as she groans. The sounds coming out of her have me hard as fucking nails in a second and I don’t want to ruin the moment by grinding on her and blowing a load in my pants, because that would be too fucking shameful.
Instead, I part her legs with my knee and instantly her hips push forward, little gasping sounds tearing out of her throat even as her lips move against mine desperately and I want to spend the rest of my fucking life dragging them out of her. I press my knee into her a little harder and if we keep going we’re going to get caught grinding on each other by some fucking gossip.
It kills me, it fucking kills me, but I break away from her lips, my chest heaving as I try to get a hold of myself. She’s not any better, her hands tightening in the fabric of my shirt a little before she finally lets go.
I don’t want to break the silence and thankfully she does it for me.
She clears her throat. “I can’t.”
Of course she can’t, I can’t do this either, we’re all fucked right now. No one can make a move here without burning everything we all know and have to the ground.
I nod and press my forehead against hers because pulling away right now is going to leave me fucking bleeding and I need to do some damage control. “I know. I’m being a selfish dick. Just do me a favor and don’t tell Avery?”
She nods back and doesn’t pull away, the two of us just standing there and breathing each other's air as we try to sift through all of the bullshit in our way.
None of us are going to survive this unscarred.
Harley calls me out the second I get back to the room.
I ignore him, because I might take a swing at him in pent up frustration and blue balls, and head to the shower to jerk off in a fit of rage.
I feel like I’m becoming Ash which is just fucking disturbing.
My headphones are wedged tight into my ears when I walk back out, the music cranked up all the way so it’s obvious there’s no talking to me, and I ignore the daggers Harley shoots my way as I climb into my own bed. It’s too early to really sleep without getting high first but I don’t want to risk the fight that’ll break out if either of them ask me about where the fuck I was, so I lie there and think about that kiss, over and over again until I slowly go insane.
I do everything I can to stay the fuck away from Lips.
Avery is fucking psychic and if she sees me around the Mounty, she’s going to know every last detail of what went down and ruin my life with it just to amuse herself… or because I breathe in her direction with attitude, which is the stupidest fucking thing I’ve heard, but it doesn’t stop her from saying it to me regularly.