by Erin Watt
“So you’re gonna be okay with me hooking up with someone else? Putting my mouth on some other girl. Having her hands all over me.”
I almost barf on the cream carpet. I force myself to breathe through my nose. And lie. “Yes.”
I feel the weight of his stare for what seems like forever. I want to leap after him and beg him to stay, but for my own self-preservation, I keep my head down and my feet firmly rooted.
“No, you won’t,” Reed says quietly. “You’re hurting and pushing me away, but I’m not giving up.”
He walks over to me, and I brace myself. But he only kisses me on the forehead and then leaves me alone in his room.
His last words hang in the air. I slump to the floor and draw my knees tight to my chest. I’m upset he didn’t try to press me. I know I would’ve given in. I’m upset that he’s still swearing to pursue me.
No, that’s not right. I’m upset at myself for feeling the warm glow over his declaration that no matter what I throw at him, he’s going to win me back.
21
I haul myself to my room and manage to fall asleep two hours before the alarm rings for us to get up and go to school. I stick a hand out from the covers and fumble for my phone. Hitting snooze, I peer over to the other side. Val’s half off the bed, one leg stuck out from under the comforter and one arm hanging over the edge of the mattress.
I shake her shoulder. “Time to get up, Sleeping Beauty.”
“No. Don’t wanna,” she mumbles.
“School starts in…” It takes my slow mind a minute to make the calculation “…an hour ten.”
“Wake me up in twenty then.”
I force myself out of bed, grab a bottle of water from my mini fridge, and duck into the bathroom. I blink a few times until the mirror version of me comes into focus.
There’s no evidence on my skin of Reed’s touch. There’s no mark on my neck where his mouth sucked. There’s no outward evidence of my weakness. I press a finger against my lower lip and pretend it’s Reed’s.
Val appears behind me, saving me from my own idiotic imagination. The bruise over her eye is ugly.
“I know you told Reed last night that you got into a fight, but if someone hurt you, I’m going to kill them.” I’m not even joking.
“Then you’ll need to start with me because this,” she points to her forehead, “is the result of me headbashing Tam’s ex.”
I wince. “Maybe use a beer bottle next time? Or better yet, take me with you.” I meet her eyes in the mirror. “You never mentioned a rave at school. Why didn’t you ask me to go? I would’ve backed you up.”
“I didn’t know about the party until late last night. I got a text from a girl who goes to Jefferson—that’s where Tam went to school—and she said she swore she saw him. I didn’t even stop to think about what I was doing. I got dressed, caught a ride with Jordan who was on her way to Gastonburg’s house, and the next thing I know I’m in some stupid catfight with a stranger over Tam.”
“I thought you said it was an ex, not a stranger. Was she from his college?”
Val looks like she was punched in the gut. “No. I think he’s been cheating on me for years. That’s why I called her his ex.”
“Oh no.” I place my arm around her, and she curls into my chest.
“I’m so stupid.”
You’re not the only one.
I clear my throat. “I kissed Reed last night.”
“Really?” Her voice is almost hopeful.
“Yeah. He’s been sleeping outside my room. That’s creepy, right?”
Val pulls back so I can see her wide eyes. “Super creepy,” she agrees, but she doesn’t sound convincing.
I sag against the counter. “No, I don’t think it’s creepy, either. I should, but instead I think it’s weirdly…sweet that he’s so intent on making sure I don’t run off again that he’s literally sleeping on the floor outside my door.” I rub my forehead, embarrassed by my own weakness.
“He beat up Skip Henley for you yesterday.”
I blink in surprise. “What?”
Val shifts, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t say anything because I know you don’t like talking about Reed, but…yeah. He punched Skippy in the middle of the dining room for harassing you in speech class.”
A flurry of emotions fly through me. Joy. Satisfaction, because those nasty comments in Speech yesterday were so brutal. And then there’s guilt, because…damn it, because I’ve been pushing Reed away since I got back and meanwhile he’s sleeping protectively outside my door and fighting other boys in my honor.
Maybe I… God, does he deserve another chance?
“Just figured you might feel better knowing he did that,” Val says with a shrug. “And hey, at least Reed didn’t cheat on you and he’s not trying to avoid all contact with you. He’s not a liar like Tam.” Val squeezes my arm. “Do you have a toothbrush I can borrow? It feels like an animal died in my mouth.”
I lean down to rummage under the cabinet where I find a basket of pretty wrapped soaps and a stack of new toothbrushes. I hand her one and then apply toothpaste to my own electric brush. While Val brushes her teeth and washes her face, I go back to the bedroom and stare at my closet full of Brooke-picked clothes. I don’t see anything, though. All I can think about is the phrase: Reed didn’t cheat on you.
When Val said it, my first instinct wasn’t to deny it.
Because it’s true.
I don’t believe anymore that he cheated on me. I don’t know if the baby is his. But…if I believe that he didn’t cheat on me then I should believe him when he says he’s not the baby daddy.
And Val is right about another thing—Reed’s not a liar. The one thing that he hasn’t done in our time together is lie to me. He’s been so blunt in telling me that he plans to leave town after graduation, that he’s not good with relationships, that he destroys the people around him.
And he’s not talking about girls or any kind of juvenile bullshit. In a burst of insight, I realize he’s talking about his parents. He loved them desperately, and they’d both failed him.
His mother killed herself, leaving five sons to cope with the loss. His father drowns himself in liquor and horrible women. Is it any wonder that Reed told me that sex was just sex? That he tried to use it as a weapon? He uses it to punish himself and others. He’s living up to the legacy left to him by his weak parents, but there’s a struggle inside of him—and it’s that struggle that spoke to me.
“You’re about to drool on yourself,” Val remarks as she exits the bathroom.
I swipe a guilty hand across my face and run to the sink to spit and swish out my mouth. Admitting to Val that I still have feelings for Reed is one thing, admitting to her that I’m thinking about forgiving him is an entirely different story. One that I don’t know the ending to.
“What do you think is going to be in my locker today?” I ask as I join her in front of my closet. “Garbage? Day-old food? Used tampons?”
Val points to her bruise. “What about this? I look like I’m a poster child for abused girlfriends.”
“I can cover that. I’ve done it before.” At her outraged expression, I hurry to explain. “Not to my mom or myself, but girls she worked with.”
“Ugh.”
“I know.”
I turn away from the closet. “You know what? I’m thinking I want to skip again and hit the mall today. What do you think?”
Her mouth slowly spreads into a smile. “I’m thinking I want to eat a big yeasty pretzel and have FroYo for lunch.”
We knock fists together. “Do we fake being sick?”
“Nah. We’re just skipping. We’re going to the mall, eating terrible things, maxing out our guardians’ credit cards. Then we’re going to get makeovers at Sephora. Afterwards, we’re going over to the pier and stuffing our faces full of shellfish until we’re only attractive to marine life.”
I give her a big grin. “I’m so on board with this.”
“How wa
s your shopping trip?”
I spin around at the sound of Brooke’s voice. I was in the process of making myself a snack, but as usual, her presence kills my appetite. I shove my bowl of corn chips aside and move away from the counter.
Brooke waltzes toward me in her four-inch heels. I wonder if she’ll still wear stilettos when she’s eight months pregnant, waddling around on heels with her huge belly. Probably. She’s vain enough that she’d probably take the risk of tripping and falling, even while knocked-up.
Ugh. Why am I even thinking about Brooke’s pregnancy? It’s only making me queasier.
“The silent treatment? Really?” Brooke laughs on her way to the refrigerator. “I expected better from you, Ella.”
I roll my eyes at her back. “Like you really care how my day was. I’m just saving us the trouble of making small talk neither of us care about.”
Brooke grabs a pitcher of filtered water and goes to pour herself a tall glass. “Actually, I’ve been anxiously waiting for a chance to talk to you.”
Uh-huh. I’m sure.
“Callum and I were talking the other night, and we thought it would be a good idea if you and Dinah planned my baby shower.”
My spine goes rigid. Is she kidding me?
“It’d be a nice bonding opportunity for the two of you,” Brooke goes on. “Callum agrees.”
Yeah right. There’s no way this was Callum’s idea. The day he took me to meet Steve’s widow, he drank himself into a coma in the car and begged me not to listen to a word Dinah O’Halloran said.
Brooke eyes me expectantly. “What do you think, sweetie?”
“What do I think?” I echo in a syrupy tone. “I think I’d like to see some paternity test results before I waste my time on a baby shower.”
Her delicate jaw tightens. “That was uncalled for.”
“Nah, I don’t think it was.” I prop a hip against the counter, then shrug. “You might have fooled Callum into believing this is a Royal baby, but I’ve got my doubts, sweetie.”
“Oh, it’s a Royal baby, all right. But are you sure you want to know which Royal’s DNA made up half this bundle of love?” She pats her tiny baby bump and smiles at me.
My hands clench into fists. She’s struck a nerve, and she knows it.
You can’t hit a pregnant woman, says the firm voice in my head.
I swallow my rising anger and force my fingers to relax.
Brooke nods in approval, as if she voodoo’d her way into my head and knows how badly I want to smack her. “So, back to this baby shower,” she says as if that bit of ugliness didn’t just happen. “You should really consider helping Dinah plan it. She wasn’t happy with the way you treated her at dinner.”
“I barely said a word to her.”
“Exactly.” Brooke frowns at me. “Dinah isn’t someone you want as an enemy, Ella.”
I frown right back. “What does that mean?”
“It means she doesn’t take kindly to rudeness, and your behavior—you and the boys—seriously pissed her off.”
She didn’t look pissed when she was having sex with Callum’s son in the hall bathroom, I almost spit out.
“When I spoke her to the next morning, she even brought up the C-word,” Brooke says in a singsong voice.
My jaw drops. Wow. Dinah called me a—
“Contest,” Brooke supplies, chuckling at my horrified expression.
I stare blankly at her.
“Dinah threatened to contest Steven’s will,” she clarifies. “And if she goes through with it, I guarantee you that she’ll tie it up in court for years. By the time she’s done, there’ll be no money left for either one of you—the lawyers will get it all. I’ve already advised her against it, but Dinah’s always been stubborn, and she was incredibly offended by the way you treated her.”
“What does she care?” I shake my head in annoyance. “I don’t know her and I didn’t know Steve.”
Brooke sips her water. “Feel lucky about that second one. Not knowing Steve.”
My brow furrows. As much as I hate getting drawn into a conversation with the she-devil, I can’t deny that my curiosity is piqued every time someone mentions my biological father. “Why?”
“Because despite what Callum Royal thinks, Steve was a terrible friend.”
Given that her source is probably Dinah, who I think is one step up from Brooke in the demon stakes, I don’t trust a word of this, but I smile prettily and nod because that’s the easiest way out of this discussion.
“If you say so.”
“It’s the truth. You’re lucky he’s dead. I’d hate to see what he would do to an innocent, young girl like you.” The bluntly stated words, so different from her usual saccharine delivery, raise the hairs on the back of my neck.
“I know Dinah is mad about the will, but I had nothing to do with that.”
Brooke’s mouth twists into an ugly line. “Steve would’ve left it to a turtle if it meant keeping it away from Dinah. Him leaving it to you was the shock. Even Callum thought the money would go to his sons.”
That stops me short. Is that why Gideon doesn’t like me? Because he thinks I stole his inheritance?
“The boys already have a ton from Callum,” I point out.
Brooke shakes her head in mock dismay. “You can never have enough in this world. Haven’t you learned that yet?” She sets her mug on the counter between us. “It’s not too late, Ella. Dinah and I can be your family. You don’t need to stay here with these men. They’re poisonous. They’ll use you up and hurt you.”
I stare back at her in disbelief. “No one has hurt me more than you have. You’re trying to tear this family apart and I don’t understand why. What’s your end game here? What do you have against them?”
She sighs, like I’m a dumb child. “My end game is survival, and Lord, I’ve tried to teach that to you, too. I tried and tried to tell you to get away. Everything I did when you were around was to help you.” Her tone changes. It’s no longer sweet, but hard and biting. “But I see you’re like all the others. So blinded by those dazzling Royal smiles that you can’t see your own salvation. My momma told me you can’t cast your pearls before the swine.”
“And I’m swine because I think the Royals aren’t going to be the end of me?”
“You’re ignorant and lost in your own teen lust, which is sad, but,” she gives a delicate shrug, “I can’t make you wise. You’ll have to learn those hard lessons on your own.”
“You’re not really cut out to be a teacher. And you should probably concentrate on looking after yourself, because once the paternity tests come back, I can’t see Callum’s wallet staying open for you.” I grab my bowl of corn chips and start for the door.
“And you look out for yourself,” she calls after me, “because I’m not going to give you a shoulder to cry on when Reed breaks your heart. Or maybe you should give Gideon a try. I have it on good authority he’s an animal in the sack.”
I can’t keep the shock off my face.
Brooke roars with laughter. “You’re such a child. The horror on your face is adorable. Here’s one last piece of advice—ignore the Royal boys. They’re bad for you. Let Dinah and me help you with your money, and we’ll all live happily ever after.”
“I’d trust Reed before I’d ever trust you.”
She’s unfazed by my biting retort. Instead, she beams and continues as if I didn’t speak at all. “Play your cards right, and you can be a bridesmaid at my wedding. Won’t that be fun?”
Ha. I’d rather walk barefoot on a ten-mile road made of lava than be her bridesmaid.
“No thanks.”
Her eyes burn a hole into my back as I walk out of the kitchen and straight into Reed’s smiling face.
“Knew you still had feelings for me,” he murmurs.
I want to deny it, to tell him he’s delusional, but the words die in my throat. I can’t tell him what he wants to hear. I’m too…raw from all the things swirling around in my head. I’m not re
ady to have this conversation with him.
“You stood up for me just now,” he presses when I don’t respond.
I shake my head. “I didn’t stand up for you. I stood up for myself.”
22
Reed
I stood up for myself.
Two days after Ella said those words to me, I still can’t stop thinking about them. And I can’t stop thinking about that night in my bedroom either. Her tears. How she insisted we weren’t good for each other.
She’s right. Well, half right. She’s definitely good for me, but what good am I for her? I was an ass to her when she first showed up. I lashed out and treated her like crap because I hated that my father brought Steve’s bastard into our house when he couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to his existing children. Dad clearly cared about her, so my brothers and I did the opposite—we shunned her.
And yeah, I changed my tune. I gave in to the attraction. My guard dropped lower and lower until I was completely under her spell. But even after I fell for her, I still kept secrets. I still pushed her away more than once. I still let her run off instead of immediately explaining about Brooke.
I told Ella I was going to win her back, but what the hell am I really doing to make it happen? I put my fist in Henley’s jaw on her behalf, but what do I really have to offer someone like her? She’s perfectly fine taking care of herself.
But the thing is, the reason she’s always fighting her own battles and standing up for herself is because…nobody has ever done it for her.
Today, that’s about to change.
“You’re really not gonna drop me at home first?” Wade grumbles from the passenger side of my Range Rover. He’s glaring at every car in the parking lot as I pull up in front of the French Twist.
“Why the hell would I?” The bakery is literally five minutes from school, while Wade’s mansion is twenty minutes in the other direction. “I’ll be five minutes.”
“I’ve got someone waiting for me back at my place.”
“Who?” I challenge.