Stolen Crush

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Stolen Crush Page 45

by Stunich, C. M.


  But in that moment, even if I knew that, I’d still have stayed.

  Because love is a double-edged sword, and Parrish was my blade against everything in my life that wasn’t going the way I wanted it to.

  “Dakota,” he breathes, kissing me hard and deep, biting my lower lip. His body is like a storm, striking me, lighting me up. I want more. I want to live in the storm forever.

  With a deep, guttural groan, he drives himself into me with more force than before, pushing even deeper. The sensation makes me cry out with pleasure as I grab his hair and pull, and he shudders against me, coming so hard that his entire body trembles above me before collapsing.

  The weight of him is soothing; the heat of him is electrifying.

  “Don’t move,” I murmur when he goes to roll off. “Not yet.”

  We stay as we are for a minute more before he pulls out and disposes of the condom, taking me into his arms and tucking my head beneath his chin. Neither of us speaks for some time, and I’m about to drift off to sleep when his hand slides down my side and cups my ass, giving it a little squeeze.

  “Again?” Parrish murmurs, and a smile curves my lips.

  “Again.”

  And so it goes until the sun sets and the stars come out—both the ones in the sky that twinkle like diamonds as well as the ones above our heads, casting a greenish glow across the bedroom’s ceiling.

  “I wish you didn’t have to go,” Parrish says, leaning in the doorway of his bedroom like he’s done a million times before. This time though, it all seems shiny and new, like we’ve transcended into another world together.

  I smile, and I know I’ve probably got that disgusting lovey-dovey couple face on, the one that everyone wants to make but nobody wants to see. Just like Maxine, I think, and then for the briefest of instances, I see Maxx in my head and shake the thought away.

  “I wish I didn’t have to go either,” I reply, leaning in my own doorway. We’re about three feet apart, but it somehow feels like leagues. I already miss the feel of his skin against mine. Parrish has his right elbow pressed against the doorjamb, his face against his fist. He’s smiling at me, too, which is such a crazy thing to see. The guy never smiles. That’s why I hate him. Or … hated, in the past tense?

  “If it weren’t so risky, I’d have you stay with me,” he continues, sighing and then sliding his left hand over his face. “But she can’t find out like that. It has to be planned.”

  “Planned?” I query back, because I can’t quite believe I’m hearing this right. “You want to tell her?”

  Parrish drops his hand by his side and gives me a look that’s much more akin to his usual foppish rich boy persona. It very clearly says duh, what else did you think we were going to do?

  “You deserve to be more than just a secret, Dakota.”

  Whoa. I feel like my heart’s about to explode. It’s beating so fast that I feel dizzy for a second there.

  You deserve to be more than just a secret.

  Fuck.

  The guy knows how to charm a girl, doesn’t he? I mean, you wouldn’t know it since he’s an arrogant dick most of the time …

  “When?” I ask as Parrish turns to glance down the hall at Tess’ office door. It’s been like eight hours since our fight and Mr. Brightside is still playing. I get it though. That’s how I roll. I once listened to Ashnikko—I know, I know, I’m a fangirl—on repeat for like two weeks straight.

  “Soon. Let’s just … feel her out, wait for a good mood.” He glances back at me, but his expression isn’t playful or cute anymore. It’s dead serious. “You should try to find some common ground with her. I know you can’t just forgive her for what she wrote—especially if she’s planning on publishing it—but you can’t fight with her for two years straight either.”

  “You mean one year, nine months, and thirteen days,” I correct, and Parrish gives me a warning look. “But yeah, I see what you’re saying.”

  “We’ll tell her together,” he announces, exhaling sharply. I guess when he said, ‘I’ve made my decision’, he was … choosing me? “Fuck, maybe we should just get it out of the way and do it tomorrow?”

  “You know her best,” I tell him, and he takes it like a compliment, nodding in agreement. I bite my lower lip and then scurry across the hall for one, last kiss, throwing my arms around his neck and teasing his tongue with my own. We kiss for quite a while, and things start to heat up all over again.

  “Get out of here, Gamer Girl,” he purrs at me, putting his hands on my hips and forcibly putting some space between us. The move seems to pain him which I like. “Get some sleep.”

  The way Parrish looks at me, I almost wonder if he’s going to say something else. He seems to change his mind at the last minute, offering up a saucy smile before he steps back and closes his bedroom door in my face for what better be old times’ sake.

  “You’re an asshole,” I grumble, but I’m smiling, too, as I head back into my room, tripping over my stupid book bag and nearly falling flat on my face. I kick it to the side before I notice a vase full of flowers on my nightstand.

  They’re beautiful, this gorgeous bouquet of sunflowers that makes me smile when I brush my fingers over the yellow petals. The smile slides off my face when I realize that, in order to get these flowers in here, someone would’ve had to come down the hall and put them there.

  If it were Tess, she would’ve surely knocked on Parrish’s door to look for me. It can’t have possibly been Paul, Kimber, or any of the kids, obviously. So … “Chasm.”

  I breathe his name and close my eyes tight against a rush of pain.

  He brought me flowers?

  I can’t seem to wrap my mind around it, even as I set my Tess-phone up on the tripod, climb under the covers and curl up on my side. I’ll ask him about it tomorrow, I promise myself, and then my mind is inevitably drawn back to memories of Parrish.

  No matter what Tess says, no matter what she does, I’ll never regret spending the night with him.

  Never.

  That is … until I find out that he’s been kidnapped because of it.

  “Thought you might like to know that Lumen is finally home,” Tess says when I come downstairs the next morning, dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, like the clothes can somehow prevent her from knowing about me and Parrish until we’re both ready to talk. I just stare at her back; she’s standing in front of the espresso machine, so I’m not sure she knows who, exactly, it is that she’s talking to, me or Parrish.

  If it’s me, then she’s made a huge mistake. I don’t want to talk to her. How could she even remotely think otherwise?

  She glances back at me, but the expression on her face doesn’t change from pleasant neutral.

  “And we’re going to talk about this dating thing.” Tess turns back to her coffee as I do my best to hold back a scream. Does she really not understand the effect her words had on me? I glare at her, but I make my voice as pleasant as I can when I respond.

  “Yeah, sure. Whatever.” I move into the kitchen to look for food—I’ve made a habit of asking before I eat anything now which seems to piss Tess off. What would also piss her off is knowing that I slept with her son last night. I can’t believe we actually had sex, I think as I stare at Tess and feel the sharp dagger of betrayal bury itself deep in my heart. When she finds out, she’s going to despise me; I just know it. Somehow, that doesn’t seem to matter. She dislikes me anyway, doesn’t she? “I’m glad Lumen’s back. Guess Parrish was right.”

  Parrish.

  I smile as memories of last night flooding in. That is, until Chasm clears his throat from behind me and I jump. When I spin to face him, everything else seems to fade away. He’s staring down at me like I’ve taken a hammer to his heart, shattered it, made him bleed.

  The sunflowers … ask about the sunflowers. I feel suddenly tongue-tied and disoriented in his presence in a way I’ve never been before.

  “I hope he was at least a gentleman,” he grinds out, his
voice thick with caustic humor. Tess can’t hear us, not with the sound of the milk steaming and the wall-mounted TV murmuring the morning’s news. “If he wasn’t, I’ll kill ‘im.”

  “Chas,” I start, but there’s something tender and weird here that I feel like I have to explore. I don’t regret anything that happened with Parrish, but … I do regret the way I seem to have made Chasm feel. “When you walked in on us last night—”

  He laughs at me, reaching up to tousle my hair, putting me right back into the ‘Little Sister’ category.

  “Don’t worry about it. You two deserve each other.” He throws the words out like he doesn’t care, but there’s just something about his face that says otherwise, a crack that I can see straight through. “Lumen’s back?” he says loudly, just as Tess’ milk finishes and she pours it into her coffee. “That’s unfortunate.”

  “That’s enough of that, Kwang-seon,” Tess tells him, turning around and leaning back against the countertop as she takes her first sip. “Is Parrish up yet? I think it’d be nice if we did something together as a family today.” She gives Chasm a look. “You included, of course.”

  “Always an honor, Mrs. Vanguard,” he says with a disarming smile, but not like it’s all bullshit either. He means that. He likes it here, and even if I don’t, I can’t blame him. “I’ll go check on him.” Chasm gives me a conspiratorial sort of look, but I haven’t seen Parrish this morning.

  When I knocked, he didn’t answer, so I figured he was still sleeping.

  Chasm leaves while I pour myself a glass of orange juice and toss some bread in the toaster. Tess isn’t looking at or talking to me which is a relief; I’m not even sure what I’d say. If that’s how this family operates—that is, pretending like nothing bad ever happens—then I’ll play along. For now, at least.

  Because even if I hate it here, I’ve got Parrish.

  “He’s not answering his door. Must be tired.” Chasm reappears, shrugging his shoulders, but giving me yet another powerful look. I meet his stare, but there’s nothing that I can say in front of Tess. Instead, I spread peanut butter on my toast and take the food upstairs.

  I end up eating my food in peace, checking my messages and finding one from Lumen. Party was insane; I woke up in a field with no memory of how I got there. Huh. That doesn’t sound good; I worry about sexual assault in a situation like that. Dad is not happy; I’ll be on lockdown like it’s covid 2020. LOL

  With a sigh, I shake my head and rub at the bridge of my nose. I can voice my concerns to Lumen later.

  For now … I set my phone and empty plate aside, heading into the bathroom to shower and change. When I come out, I open my bathroom door to find Tess picking Parrish’s lock. The sight infuriates me, if I’m honest.

  “What are you doing?” I ask as Chasm stands back, arms crossed over his chest, mouth set into a deep frown. He flicks amber eyes my way but doesn’t say anything. I still need to ask him about the damn flowers.

  “We’ve been knocking and knocking, shouting his name,” Tess begins, jiggling the little metal pin in the doorknob. She’s clearly trying to stay calm, but on the inside, she’s panicking. I frown as she curses and yanks at the knob. “I’m worried that he might’ve hurt himself.”

  Great. Now I’m starting to freak out.

  I wait as Tess unlocks the door and throws it open, moving into the room like she expects to find Parrish lying facedown on the floor.

  “Jesus, Little Sister, what’d you do to him last night? Ride him to death?”

  I glare at Chas, pushing past him into the room as Tess flings open the bathroom door.

  It’s empty.

  Tess pauses, putting her hands on her hips, and exhaling a sigh of relief. “He must be downstairs somewhere.” She looks over at the two us and raises a perfectly manicured and microbladed eyebrow. “Did something happen last night?”

  I feel suddenly unsteady on my feet, my tongue tied as I try to puzzle out, exactly, what she means by that. Luckily for me, Chas steps forward to fill in the awkward space.

  “Business as usual,” he replies, flicking open the front page of Parrish’s sketchbook. There’s a green rose there, not dissimilar to the drawing he gave me. Chasm turns the page and there’s another rose. And another. Parrish has been practicing the design all week apparently. “I ended up sleeping downstairs after we finished our movie, but that’s about it.”

  Wait, he spent the night? Chasm spent the night here while we were … Shit. Last night went from bad to better to best, and this morning … it seems to be following the reverse of that pattern.

  “Nothing happened with us,” I add blandly, which feels like the worst lie I’ve ever told. Something did happen with us, something amazing, something incredible. It was honestly one of the best nights in my entire life.

  Tess moves past us and into the hallway, heading for the stairs. All I can think is that Parrish got up and went for a walk or … something. Maybe he needed time to think? I’ve made my decision. He said that, didn’t he? Then we got naked together and crossed off a whole bunch of firsts from both our lists. We talked about telling Tess. He seemed nervous but resolved, excited even.

  Did he change his mind since last night? Does he regret what happened between us?

  “Don’t look so nervous; Parrish wouldn’t just … well, you know, with you and then take off. He’s around here somewhere.” Famous last words, I think as Chasm struts past me, and I follow.

  We help Tess search out the rest of the house: the sauna, the pool, the gym, Paul’s office, her office, the bedrooms, the backyard.

  There’s no sign of Parrish.

  “I don’t understand,” Tess says as Paul stands beside her, looking supremely annoyed at the inconvenience of a missing son. “His phone is in his room; his car is the garage. I even found his wallet in his book bag.”

  Chasm appears in the doorway and hefts up a plastic garbage bag.

  “Checked his trash, but there aren’t any clues.” He gives me a dirty look as soon as Tess nods her thanks and turns her attention back to Paul. “You fucking owe me.” This last part is whispered in my ear just before he takes off toward the garage, and I scoot off my stool in the kitchen to follow.

  “Thank you for that,” I reply honestly, because it never even occurred to me that Tess might actually go through Parrish’s garbage and see … well, evidence from last night. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Yeah, well.” Chasm lifts the lid of the large trash can and tosses the bag in. “I have ulterior motives, you know? He might be your fuckboy, but he’s my best friend. If he gets caught banging you, we’ll never see each other again.”

  “First off, fuckboy?” I query, rubbing at the side of my face. I’m worried, but not that worried. Not yet. “Second, banging? Pick better word choices.” He slams the lid on the can and turns to give me a dark look.

  “I’m not even the one fucking, but yet I’m having to clean up the aftermath.” He lets his pretty amber eyes trail up toward the ceiling, staring at the white sheetrock as if it might hold the answer as to where Parrish has gone.

  “I thought you were banned from the house?” I ask, because he was. For at least another week. Chasm’s sardonic laugh helps fill in the blanks almost immediately. His dad, this has to be about his dad.

  Bingo.

  “My dad has some guests staying over that he doesn’t want me to meet.” Chasm frowns and rubs his hand over his face. “More like, he doesn’t want the guests meeting me. He called Tess and asked if I could stay over for a few nights.”

  Ouch.

  “I know how you feel,” I start, thinking about yesterday, about that stupid page stuck in Tess’ typewriter. I should never have touched it, my mistake. It would’ve been better if I hadn’t known how she really felt about me. “Last night, I learned that Tess doesn’t like me. She loves me—maybe—but she doesn’t like me.”

  “She told you that?” Chasm asks, and I shrug.

  “More like, I saw a pa
ge from her new manuscript and read it. I think it went something like this: She may be my child by blood, and my love might be eternal, but that doesn’t mean I have to like her.” I’m not sure if I’m quoting it right, but close enough. Chas gets the gist.

  “Yikes, Little Sister,” he murmurs, echoing my sentiments about his father. “Is that how you and Parrish …?” He trails off and then shakes his head, shoving his fingers through his bangs and disturbing the pretty perfection of his lightning bolt. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. I don’t even care.”

  We pause our conversation as Tess opens the door to the garage, giving us both a look that cuts right to the bone.

  “If either of you know where my son is, now is the time to speak up. This isn’t a game; it’s not a joke.”

  “We would never lie about something like this,” I say, glancing over at Chasm. His face has darkened up, but he has no problem meeting Tess’ eyes. He really doesn’t know either. Now I’m starting to panic.

  “If we knew where he was, we’d tell you. He probably just went for a walk.” Chasm doesn’t sound like he believes that, but it’s the only rational explanation at this point. “I’ll start calling around and see if anyone’s seen or heard from him.”

  “Do you know his passwords?” Tess asks, swallowing hard. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and I can see that this is deeply triggering for her. “We could get into his PlayStation or email or something and check for messages?”

  Chasm hesitates a moment before giving a sharp nod and heading into the house.

  Normally, I’d be super creeped out at the idea of Tess hacking into Parrish’s electronics, but … I think I’ll make an exception this once. Just so we can find him. Just so I can look into his eyes and know that he didn’t leave because of me, because of us.

  Us.

  By eight o’clock, Tess has officially lost it. She’s alternately crying and going dead silent, pacing around, checking and rechecking every room in the house. The entire Vanguard family—Chasm and me included—is seated in the living room, awaiting news.

 

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