Like Gravity: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Redwood High Book 1)

by Rachel Leigh

  Petra cups her cheek with both hands, the music stops and everyone is watching. They are all watching me as I break—as I come unglued. My weakness exposed. The secret is out—Blakely Porter does in fact have a soul. “Congratulations.” I throw my arms and shout, looking around the room, returning the glare at each and every one of them. “You did it.” I don’t even have to continue; they know what I’m talking about. They all got what they wanted.

  Chloe is already taking it upon herself to finish her off with some unkind words. She’s a good friend. One of the few I have left.

  It wasn’t always this way. There was a time when people gravitated toward me because I was their idol—their queen. Something changed this year. Petra changed this year. She came back from summer vacation with new boobs and a Brazilian tan, and suddenly, everyone was bowing down to her. Rumor has it, she was hooking up with Levi, the king of the senior class, right before school began, but I’m not buying it. He has more morals than that. At least I hope he does.

  He knows what she did to me and if he knows what’s good for him, he will stay far away from that girl. She dragged my name through the mud so badly that I can still taste dirt in the back of my throat. Because of people like Petra and Wyatt, I keep my heart tucked away safe and secure, but I do have one. I just don’t expose it to the hateful world.

  I walk out the door into the night alone. The crowd outside is still going strong, and they pay no attention as I walk down the long driveway, still alone. Always alone. I look down at my liquor stained shirt, bunching the front of it together and gripping it into a ball in my fist. I throw my head back, and I scream. At the top of my lungs, I scream. Echoing through down the trail, probably into the house.

  Here I am, alone—a nobody, while everyone else has somebody.

  I look down at my feet as the leaves crunch beneath my Jimmy Choo pumps, wondering what’s wrong with me. I have everything that the world should want, so why I am always so alone?

  That’s when it hits me.

  Taking the oxygen from my lungs.

  I point out flaws in others to make myself feel better. It angers me when people ignore my victories, and all winners are losers to me—unless it's myself, of course.

  One might say that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree—maybe they’re right.

  I’m just like my mother.

  As much as I hate to believe it, I’m just like her. And, I hate myself for it.

  I come apart at the seams, right there in Axel’s driveway. Never knowing how good it felt until now. I pay no attention to the noise in the distance of people laughing, chanting, having the time of their lives. I dissolve into tears, and I enjoy it. The wind picks up, blowing dead leaves in my path.

  I begin walking again when I hear footsteps coming down the gravel drive. I continue to walk, picking up my pace, but whoever is stalking toward me picks up their speed twice as quickly.

  “Damn, girl. That was fucking awesome.”

  Jasper.

  I close my eyes and let out a sigh, knowing he won’t listen... he never does, no matter what I say. He’s like a scab that you pick at and pick at, hoping it will go away, but it comes back even more heinous. Eventually leaving behind a scar because you didn’t just leave the damn thing alone.

  “I knew you were hardcore, but I had no idea you had it in you.” He’s at my side now and far too energetic for my liking.

  “Let's set something straight.” I stop and look him dead in the eye. “We are not friends; we will never be friends. Whatever happened earlier on the trail was a momentary lapse of weakness, something I’m not proud of. Do not, I repeat, do not mistake it for kindness. I am not a kind person.” I turn back around and continue to walk, and once again, he doesn’t get the hint.

  Pick.

  Pick.

  Pick.

  “You’re not telling me anything I didn’t already know. Kind people don’t sock it to random chicks.”

  Heinous.

  “She isn’t a random chick. She’s the enemy.” I hold my focus on the end of the driveaway, hoping he turns around before we reach it.

  “Seems to me like you’ve got a lot of them.”

  I stop again, for the last time. “What the hell do you want?”

  He stuffs his hands into his pants pockets. “You’re drunk. You’re walking out here in the dark, alone. I just figured I’d make sure you’re ok.”

  “I’m ok. Just leave.” I walk again, and I swear, if he doesn’t leave within the next thirty seconds, he will feel what Petra felt, only worse.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Are you still here?” I turn to face him. “I’m going home.”

  “I’ll walk you.”

  Yep, still there.

  “No! No, you won’t walk me. I told you we are not friends.”

  He turns around and looks back down the driveway toward Axel’s house. “I don’t see all your so-called friends rushing down here to check on you. In fact, I don’t even think they noticed you left. Sounds like you need some new ones.”

  Just as I’m about to spit out something degrading and harsh, whatever it takes to get rid of him, he begins pulling his hoodie over his head and taking it off.

  “Here.” He wraps the sleeves around my shoulders. “You look like you could use this.”

  My frozen heart stops for a tick and resumes, slowly melting with each beat. I don’t thank him; I don’t say anything. I don’t even tell him to go away anymore.

  Before I know it, we are halfway to my house, walking along in complete silence.

  A perfect silence that is slowly calming my mind but leaving behind an imprint—a scar.

  It’s a nice change from all of the noise that surrounds me on a daily basis. Having somone to share the silence with isn’t half bad either.

  Until the silence is broken.

  “Damn, this is a long ass walk.” He tucks his hands back into the pocket of his jeans. I look over and the streetlight exposes the goosebumps on his arms.

  “It’s really not that far.” I finally speak. My tone now calm and collected.

  I pull my phone from my back pocket and text Talon. When he doesn’t respond right away, I send Alex a text to make sure everything is going ok.

  “So, not only did you luck out being my Greek History partner, you also get to be my neighbor. You really are a lucky girl.” He nudges into me as we continue to walk, and I can’t help but giggle.

  “I think you’re the lucky one.”

  “I’ll let you know when the assignment is done.” His shoulder bumps mine, and I turn to look at him. A smile on both our faces.

  “What the hell was that?” He jokes.

  “What?” I press my lips into a hard line.

  “Did Blakely Porter just smile?” He bumps me again playfully, this time I stumble a few steps. The liquor I downed is still taking effect. “You are just full of surprises.”

  My phone vibrates in my hand and Alex reassures me that all is well. I let out a sigh of relief and stuff it back in my pocket.

  When we finally make it home, I don’t say anything. I just walk to the front porch as Jasper watches. I turn around, feeling like I should thank him—but I don’t say the words. I’ve never been good with using words when it comes to gratitude. The alcohol still sweeping through my bloodstream gives me an idea to show my appreciation. One that I know I’ll regret tomorrow.

  I smile as I walk away.

  Hoping that was enough, for now.

  Chapter Eight

  Jasper

  I stood in the grass until she closed the door. And then I stayed a little longer, hoping she’d walk back out it. When she never did, I walked home.

  The house is quiet, still. I kick off my shoes in the hallway, not bothering to put them in the closet. I guess I need to get used to it. It’s been just Dad and I for the past five years. I forgot what it’s like to have a woman harping at me about cleanliness. Maybe I’ll start tomorrow. I walk through the rooms,
no one is home. Knox is still at his buddy’s party, I should be there, too. I left behind my crew and didn’t even tell them I was leaving. Hell, I didn’t even know I was leaving.

  Walking up the stairs, I lift my t-shirt over my head, remembering that B still has my hoodie. My mind wanders to her and the look of innocence that flashed through her eyes momentarily. Even if it didn’t last, I know it’s in there somewhere. A scared girl who just begs for the world to love her because she doesn’t know how to love herself.

  I drop my pants and bend down to pick up a pair of sweats when the wind blows through my slightly opened window. I gravitate toward it, pulling the blinds down enough to look out. My lips part and lift at the seams when I see her. Standing directly across from me, her hair thrown up in a pile on top of her head, fuzzy pajama pants and a t-shirt, amplifying more beauty than I’d ever seen before.

  Natural, vulnerable, and tempting.

  She didn’t get the attention that she wanted at the party, now she’s trying to get my attention.

  She’s got it.

  I continue to watch as she walks over to her vanity, sitting down in front of her mirror, allowing me to see her reflection, her eyes locked on mine. I’m caught. I should stop watching, but I don’t—something doesn’t let me. Maybe it’s her reaction. She doesn’t gasp or pull her curtains shut in anger. She just sits there, watching me watch her. She takes the top off of her lip balm, dipping her finger in and rubbing it slowly across her lips. It’s all for show, but I have a front row seat. Setting it down, she stands. Exposing herself to me in the mirror, her icy blue eyes still on mine—provoking me.

  She lifts her t-shirt over her head and drops it to her feet. My eyes widen and my heart rate accelerates, her silky smooth skin entrancing me. Her hands reach up and I think she’s going to close the curtains—flip me off, something. But, she doesn’t. She pulls out hair tie and her blonde locks fall around her oval face. Her body is a perfect sculpture, taking my breath away. I remain motionless aside from the growing bulge in my boxers, bursting through the fabric, begging for more.

  Maybe she was drunker than I thought.

  This is wrong, so fucking wrong, but I don’t stop watching.

  She looks like a dream, inside of a nightmare. Grazing her fingers over the hem of her pants, she slides them down, leaving only her panties in place. Her tongue swipes her lips and I find myself doing the same, wondering what hers taste like. Cherry? Strawberry? Heaven? Just when I think that I can’t possibly be any harder for this girl, she slowly traces her fingers down her breast to her stomach. Light, featherlike and gripping. When I think she might stop, she keeps going. Cupping her crotch and pressing her fingers firmly against the pink fabric. She throws her head back and relishes in the pleasure she’s bringing to herself. I can feel my cock pulsate—my breaths shallow and unfulfilled. She walks slowly over to the window, giving me a grin almost as big as my erection—in a slow and steady motion, she extends her arms, gripping her curtains and pulls them shut.

  I take a long-awaited breath. Unsure how long I was holding it.

  Damn it.

  What is this girl doing to me?

  I pull myself away from the window when I realize she’s not coming back. I satisfy the hunger she built up in me with my hand and then call it a night.

  A restless night, lost in thought about life, my new school, and my new neighbors, had me tossing and turning. After a workout at the gym, I’ve spent the majority of the day in solitary, avoiding confrontation downstairs. I can hear the commotion in the living room as Val coordinates Knox and all his friends for pictures. I’d rather stare at the blank screen on the television than go down there and see their happy go lucky faces. I’ll pass on that dance. I toss the tennis ball in my hand at the wall above the television and catch it when it comes back, over and over again, until a knock at the door breaks my concentration and it rolls off the bed.

  “Who is it and what do you want?”

  The door opens and Dad walks in. “Hey son, can you come downstairs for a few minutes. Knox and his friends are getting ready to leave for the dance, and Val wants a pic with you and him.”

  If the look on my face doesn’t say it, my words will. “Hell no.”

  I don’t understand what the deal is with this family and pictures.

  “Boy, you better watch yourself talking to me like that. What’s gotten into you?” Dad shuts the door and I let out the sigh of all sighs because I know I’m in for one of his drawn-out lectures on respect and attitude. “Ever since we’ve gotten here, you’ve been distant and disrespectful. I thought we agreed this would be a new start after that stunt you pulled at your old school. What gives?”

  I straighten myself into a sitting position and throw my legs over the side of the bed. “What gives? Let’s start with your girlfriend's annoying kid.”

  “Knox is a good kid, Jasper. You could learn a thing or two from him.”

  “Yeah, ok. Like how to choke myself in a turtleneck sweater. No thanks.” The boy is the avatar of a tailored prep. Khaki pants, button up shirts and those god-awful sweaters. I can’t wrap my head around what B sees in him. She’s certainly not his type, she's more of a Marilyn, while he’s a Vanderbilt.

  “I was thinking more along the lines of compassion and helpfulness.”

  “Let’s just forget all this nonsense and go back home. The house hasn’t sold. We can move back and forget this ridiculous idea of being a happy family with these people.”

  “These people are part of our family now and you better get used to it real fast. I’m proposing to Val next week.” Dad exhales. “I thought you were on board with this?”

  “The proposal, yes. The Partridge family, not so much. Besides, when I said that I didn’t object to you proposing, it was when I thought you were waiting until after graduation to move in here. I planned on being gone by then.”

  “That’s on you. If you could get a hold of that temper of yours then you’d still be at Las Verdes.” Dad raises his voice in an attempt to throw this at me, again.

  I scoot to a sitting position and shake my head, “It's not my temper, it’s know-it-alls like Tommy—like Knox. I’m telling you, Dad, if he pushes my buttons, I may not be able to restrain myself.”

  Dad points his finger at me. “I don’t even want to tell you what happens if you pull a stunt like that.”

  He turns around and steps toward the door

  “It won’t be a stunt, it’ll be epic.” I laugh devilishly, but Dad isn’t impressed in the slightest.

  “Get your ass downstairs, take the damn picture and keep your mouth shut.” He walks out, slamming the door behind him. For someone who always tells me not to slam the door, he sure does slam mine a lot. Hypocrite much?

  I fall back into the bed and let out a few groans of hesitation. Then I pull myself up to head downstairs. Ready to face Knox and his posse, including his girlfriend who basically stripped for me through her bedroom window last night. If he knew that I’d jerked off to the image instilled in my brain of her peach skin, he’d be the one wanting to knock my ass out.

  With every step down the wooden stairs, I let out a gasp. I run my fingers through my hair, looking down at my black joggers and white t-shirt. These preppy kids will all be suited and dolled up, one look at me and no one will want the damn picture—I hope, anyway.

  I glance around the room looking for her, but she’s nowhere in sight. Knox has his arm around a petite little brunette with freckles on her nose. Axel and Kip with some random chicks I’ve never seen before. Knox’s eyes burn into me, and I want nothing more than to pour some gasoline on him and watch him burn.

  I’m not exactly sure what it is about this guy that I don’t like. Maybe it’s because he’s the son my dad has always wanted. Maybe it’s the fact that he comes from money, and I don’t. Or, quite possibly, because his best friend is the girl next door, and he knows all of the things about her that I want to know.

  “Over here, Jasper.” Val points m
e to the left of Knox, while his actual friends all line up on the other side. Damn, this lady and her desire to take pictures of every fucking move her child makes.

  I just stand there. Arms flat at my side, no smile. “Where’s B?” I say, with my expression blank and my eyes on Val’s phone.

  “Who?” Knox turns his head and confusion sweeps over him.

  Right. “Blakely, where’s Blakely?”

  “Nicknames already, that’s cute,” he snickers dryly.

  “She’ll certainly be screaming more than my name when I’m inside her.” I mumble under my breath, though he heard me loud and clear. I keep my focus straight and avoid movement.

  Val continues to snap pictures as if she’s completely unaware of the tension in the room.

  My words must have cut deep, though, because Knox displaced himself in line, upsetting mommy dearest. “Stay the hell away from her.”

  “She was pretty hungry for me last night. If she was in the same room as me, I probably would have fed it to her.” My voice isn’t loud enough for Val and Dad to hear, but I make no attempt to whisper.

  “If you even put a hand on her, I’ll, I’ll…” He trails off, unable to complete the sentence.

  “You’ll what? Come on spit it out, choir boy.” Nose to nose. I can smell his designer cologne. He gives me a shove, but my feet stay planted where they are. “Nice try, but try harder.”

  “Knox!” Val shouts, tossing her phone on the couch and bolting in our direction.

  Dad positions himself between us and for good reason, one more shove and I would have buried his face in the carpet. “Knock it off you, two,” he shouts. “Jasper! Outside, now!” He points his finger, and I’m feeling intimidated. When Dad gets pissed, he gets pissed.

  “Happily. Thanks for the pics, Val. Can’t wait to see them on Knox’s grad board.” I walk outside, feeling the cold cement through my socks.

  Dad follows behind me, and he’s pissed. His cheeks are an angry shade of red and his jaw ticks with each smirk I throw his way. He doesn’t speak, he just does laps around me like I’m his own personal track.