"Of course." He motioned for me to follow him to his bed. "Remember this?" He opened the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a piece of flimsy pink fabric. The moment I realized what it was, I blushed fiercely.
"You— You kept that?" I touched the edges without taking the memento. My thong from the last episode! "But why? That’s really weird, C." It all came flooding back—not just the episodes Estella had co-starred in but the few in which Crispin appeared as well.
He'd been my character's first crush. Her first kiss. Her first love. How ironic that the same thing had happened to the girl who played Devin Mooney.
"Why wouldn't I?" His voice was low and gravelly, deep and sexy.
"You never..." I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence. “You should really give me that back.”
“No fucking way, Tins. Finders keepers.” He put the thong back into his nightstand, then ran his fingers through his hair in what might have been frustration or possibly even disappointment. "I’m sorry I never called after everything that happened, by the way. I just didn't think you'd want to hear from me”
I couldn't muster a response. In fact, I could barely make eye contact with him. His apple scent was overwhelming, his presence electrifying. But before I'd gotten the chance to look up, Crispin had put the thong in his pocket, and the moment was over.
“Why do you pick on me at school?”
He shot me a surprised glance, and I hated myself for letting the tears fall again.
“You know how rough things have been for me.” I managed to get out that admission but not without my bottom lip wobbling. “I need someone on my side, not for you to make fun of me all day.”
"Crybaby," he said softly.
I didn’t dare look at him.
“Tins, this isn’t easy for me either,” he added.
“I didn’t say it was. But we could make things better if you just left me alone.”
“I can’t leave you alone,” he told me, sounding frustrated. “Besides, I’ve offered you my help again and again, and you keep saying no.”
“Bullshit,” I glared. “You’ve been trying to make me do what you say, not to help me. Don’t pretend, Crispin. And I’ve asked you a billion times already. I don’t want to be at this party. I don’t want to be the object of your twisted jokes. I just want you to leave me alone.”
“I—” He regarded me for a moment before a dark expression crossed his face. “I can’t.”
I wanted to smash my fist into his dumb pretty face. “Why not? You’ve been such a jerk to me. All I’ve asked is for you to live your life so I can live mine.”
“Yeah, that must be why you’re here,” he hissed. “In the middle of the snake’s nest. Right, Tinsley? You just can’t stay out of fucking trouble.”
“I hate you,” I spat. “I wish I’d never met you.”
“Likewise.”
The tension was palpable, and the adrenaline caused me to shake. I stepped back when Crispin reached out for me. “Don’t touch me, you’re gonna mess up my look.”
“You’re the one messing with my head.” He was delusional if he thought it was me doing the tormenting. And when he grabbed his floppy hair, I wondered how hard he planned to pull. “Just… Get the fuck away from me.”
I scoffed, wiping at my tears before they fell. “Fine. I’ll give you exactly what you want, Crispin.” Our eyes connected, raging in a silent battle.
“I can’t seem to leave you alone. But I can’t…touch. Shouldn’t look. Definitely shouldn’t want.”
“Want what? To torture me?”
“Exactly.”
“You’re not the boy I liked on set. You’re a dick, Crispin.” Once again, I tried to move, but I could barely gain an inch.
His powerful, strong body blocked me from leaving the room without so much as laying a finger on me. “You’re fucking with my head.” He was like a song stuck on repeat.
“Doubtful,” I rolled my eyes.
“I like your purple hair.”
“W-What?”
“I like it.” He shrugged. “Suits you better than the blond. And if I remember correctly, I’m the one who suggested you go for a change.”
“As if I did that for you.”
“Maybe you did.”
“Maybe I didn’t.”
“Did so.”
“Lies.”
He tugged on my hand, bringing me closer. “Truth.”
“Lies.”
With force, he pushed my hand lower. Lower. Lower still. I gasped when our hands hit the waistband of his slacks. My jaw dropped when he held my hand on his crotch. "W-What are you—" I couldn’t complete my question once his eyes connected with mine.
His cock was hard. Throbbing. And he was huge. "Stop doing this to me." Crispin grunted. It was raw and animalistic…and erotic. "And I'll leave you the fuck alone. Just like you want." He released the pressure on my arm, but I remained frozen.
And then I did the worst thing I possibly could have given the situation. When he was no longer holding me in place, I touched his cock, felt his length, never taking my eyes off his. His were a blazing fire, and mine were blinking fast.
Fuck, was this what a cock felt like? He was so big. How did he…
He hissed out a warning that I didn't heed, and I squeezed just a little, just enough to get his attention. "Tinsley."
It was the wake-up call I needed to look away and remove my hand. I raised my eyes to his just as the door flew open.
"There you are!" A carbon copy of the guy from before appeared in the room, but in different clothes. I stared at the ground, feeling ashamed and panicked.
"Milo," Crispin groaned. "You're kind of..."
"Interrupting?" Milo rolled his eyes. "Someone broke your mom's vase. She's going to be fucking livid. Every time I go near that thing, she gives me a death glare. I wouldn't want to be whoever…" Milo glanced at me as if he'd just realized I was in the room as well. "Oh," he said. "Oh."
"Yeah." Crispin gave Milo a look that communicated something deeper.
"I'm s-so sorry about the vase."
Crispin waved his hand dismissively. “It’s like, whatever."
But the moment was over, and as Milo left grinning, we left the room, too.
“We should probably—” he started.
“No,” I interrupted. “We never speak of it again. This never happened.”
“Well, I hope you have fun at the party.”
“Whatever.”
“Tins.”
“What?”
He hesitated before saying, “If you need anything, come find me.”
“I don’t need you.” My irritation with him reared its head. “I know how to work the keg and pour it into a cup. That’s all that matters, right? Everyone is here to drink and have fun. I’m not a freaking child, Crispin. I get to do that, too.”
“I don’t think you should be drinking. You’re seventeen.”
“So? You the moral police all of a sudden?” I laughed bitterly. “Besides, Crispin, you’re not the boss of me.” To make a point, I walked over to the keg and clumsily poured myself a full cup, giving him a pointed look when the beer sloshed over the edge. Then, I downed the smelly liquid in one go. It was gross. Seriously gross. But I forced myself to drink it, then pour another one, and down that one, too.
Crispin watched with concern, but I didn’t give a damn. Screw him and his misplaced worry. I took off down the steps, finding Estella on the makeshift dancefloor by the fireplace. When she saw me, she squealed with excitement and motioned for me to join her.
“Don’t Call Me Up” played on the stereo, and as I came closer, she pulled me in, laughing as she twirled me around the dancefloor. I was hesitant, but when my eyes met Crispin's—who watched us from his perch against the door—I wanted to be the center of attention for once.
So, I danced with my best friend, letting the music overwhelm my senses. In moments, others joined us. Estella dragged Inca into the middle of the room, and t
he girl giggled as she joined in with us. I saw Andie from the corner of my eye and panicked when she headed straight for Crispin. She grabbed his hand—he quickly set down his beer—and dragged him to where I stood.
"I don't dance," he yelled over the music.
"You do now." Andie pushed him toward me and mouthed, you're welcome.
We now stood inches apart while my hips swayed the music, and my eyes remained glued to his. "You don't have to." I laughed, feeling the effects of the beer.
"I know," he responded, surprising me by taking my hand and pulling me against him.
The world stood still.
"Dance." He held me close enough for me to feel the heat of his words on my skin. "Just for me."
I swallowed hard, letting my body do its thing. He moved with me, his eyes sparkling with mischief. The songs turned slower, and I sneaked a glance of Andie now manning the playlist on the stereo. She had just officially become the best wing woman, ever.
I kept dancing with him, for him. I could feel the heat coming from his body, and his eyes never left mine as we danced. The intensity of his stare bore through me when his hands found their way to my hips, and his fingertips dug into my flesh. I wasn't sure whether he wanted more, or to pull back and pretend none of this had happened. But I was mesmerized by this beautiful boy who seemed to want me despite the world pushing us apart.
"Such a beautiful girl." His whispered words tickled my neck as he spoke into my ear, and a shiver raced down my spine. His tone was pained, like he was in physical pain. Was he drunk? No, I hadn’t seen him drink anything. "Look at me, crybaby."
My eyes snapped up, and my gaze raced over the faint stubble on his jaw to his plump lips, and finally, to his burning silver gaze.
“I’m sorry I’m a dick to you. I can’t seem to help it.”
“I can’t help myself around you either,” I admitted. “You know nothing can ever happen, right?”
He nodded, leaning closer. His breath sent shivers down my spine as he whispered into my ear. “You’re the only girl in this room I want to keep forever.”
“Stop. Don’t say that.”
He moved back, eyes glued to mine. “Why not?”
“Because you’re making me want to break every rule.”
“What rule?”
“You really have to ask? I’m not supposed to be seen around you, Crispin.”
“Says who?”
“Says…fuck, everyone.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “You know this is bad. What would your mom say if she knew I was here?”
“I don’t care.”
“I do. Someone has to.”
“I don’t want to hate you,” he admitted. “I really, really don’t want to fucking hate you, Tins. You…you belong with—”
“Shut up.”
"Fuck," he muttered. “I wanna see if you’ve gotten any better at this, crybaby.” He was going to kiss me. He even leaned forward before someone grabbed my hand, pulling me away.
It took me a moment to recover from the sudden interruption. I investigated Estella's beaming face when she got closer enough to whisper. "Wanna have some fun?"
"Yeah." I nodded, grinning. Suddenly everything was happy, bright, and exciting. And I did want to have some fun. The beer was settling in my stomach, making me giddy.
She winked, took my hand, and led me back to Crispin. We stood at his sides, dancing. I let the heat of the moment get the best of me as I grew more daring with the boy I'd been in love with for months—the boy I could never have.
Crispin laughed, but his eyes stayed trained on me, not Estella. His hand found its way back to my waist, caressing my hipbone through the pink satin of my dress. Butterflies erupted into flight in my stomach, and I could barely take my eyes off him. The three of us danced, and I let my body sway with the music, living in the moment, with two bodies pressed against mine, dancing, turning, clashing.
Crispin twisted to face me, turning his back on Estella, and I felt him pressing against me. Something hard and thick was between us, and I looked down, flushing deeply when I realized what it was. I’d felt it earlier. Memories raced back, and I averted my gaze, but I still felt his burning stare on me.
We kept dancing, with Estella going racy while I just focused on feeling good. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Crispin, so fucking close to me, a finger’s length away. I could touch him. Brush his lips with mine.
I wanted it, I realized with a start. I wanted it to happen. I wanted him to make a move. Looking back up, I let my eyes show him how I really felt, and he read me like a book.
"Crybaby," he muttered. "C'mere."
Before I could, Estella's arm snaked around his neck, and she pulled him to her. He tried to glance back, but she was all over him, throwing her head back to expose that slender throat. And then, just like that, her lips were on his. But Crispin's hand still lingered on my hip as they kissed.
I stepped back and stared for a moment before robotically walking away. Before I made it out of the room, I heard my best friend call my name. I glanced back over my shoulder, but I couldn't bear to see Crispin.
"Don't wait up," Estella purred. "I'll find my own way back."
I forced myself to nod. And then leave. Walk. Walk. Run.
He didn’t come after me.
I kept going until I was in the fairy-light illuminated garden. Whoever had done the Dalton’s landscaping did an amazing job. In any other situation, the garden would have been magical, but in this one, it only made me feel miserable. I became aware that I wasn't alone as I leaned my back against the trunk of a thick oak tree. But I didn't care ,anymore. If none of my friends were around, I would allow myself the goddamn cryfest I'd avoid for the last ten minutes.
As warm tears rolled down my cheeks, I forced myself to push any feelings of anger to the back of my mind. I know what Estella is like.
"Hey, dollface. Why the tears?"
I wiped my eyes with a shaky hand before glancing to the dark figure in the shadows. He peeled his back away from the wall, coming into my field of vision. The lights from the house behind us illuminated his silhouette, and I took a long moment to drink in his features. Tall and slim, his dark jacket accentuated his height. It was worn from years of use, but the leather looked soft from age. Even the sloppily sewn patches and permanent marker didn’t harden its appearance. I wondered just how sharp his cheekbones were, and if his bite were half as hard as I envisioned it. It was probably the hint of stubble on his chin and the thin cigarette he smoked that made him appear harsher than he was.
"It's nothing." I shifted my attention back to my trembling hands as I leaned against the tree trunk.
"It don't look like nothing." His rising brows challenged me in amusement. Taking another long drag of his cigarette, he extended his hand toward me.
"I'm Finn," he said. "Finn Bannon. Although most people just call me Drifter."
"How ominous." I shook his hand. "I'm sure I don't have to introduce myself." I didn’t mean it to sound as cocky as it came off, although I didn’t correct myself.
"No." He chuckled. "The purple hair, the cute girly little dress, and those Vans tell me everything I need to know."
"Scorned new girl whose best friend just hooked up with her crush?" If he’d guessed that, then I needed to rethink my wardrobe choices. That was a lot for an outfit to communicate.
He gave me an amused glance. "Nah. Former child star finally rebelling years after you should've actually done it."
"Oh yeah?" Despite myself, I had a smile playing on my lips as I faced him. "What makes you think that?"
"The purple hair." He shrugged, putting out his cigarette on the grass. He didn't give a shit, and I liked that, found comfort in it. "The fancy dress with sneakers. The general I'm-so-lost-save-me vibe. I can go on."
"That's okay. I guess it's obvious I'm just some loser pretending like I belong."
"You and me both, dollface." He sighed. "I've known for a long time I don't belong at Wildwood. But, here
we both are." He winked at me, and I responded with a sigh. "Outcasts should stick together," he added. "You and me, dollface, we're going to be friends."
"Do I get a choice in the matter?"
"No, I don't think so." He turned to leave with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.
"I'm Tinsley, by the way," I called out after him.
“I know.” The smirk on his face probably broke hearts on the regular, except my own heart had already been broken by another boy. All there was left for me to do was to pick up the pieces.
It took me twenty minutes to find Andromeda. I'd checked all the places I thought she might be. But she wasn't in the kitchen or the living area. And she wasn’t with Inca—who was sitting stiffly on a sofa while couples made out on either side of her. At least I didn't run into Crispin and Estella in my search. Though I would've rather not thought about what they were doing since they were nowhere to be seen.
I found Andie in the basement in the home cinema.
Plush armchairs filled the room, and an old classic movie played on the screen. Only one of the seats was occupied. Andie had kicked off her stilettos and sat in the recliner with her eyes glued to the screen. Completely engrossed in the film, she stared in awe as Marilyn Monroe sang about diamonds being a girl's best friend.
"Andromeda, I've been looking everywhere for you."
She turned with a big grin that disappeared the second she saw my tear-stained face. "Are you okay?"
I couldn't even manage an answer. My bottom lip trembled, and in a split second, Andie joined me and wrapped me in a big hug.
"Oh, babe," she muttered in my ear. "Was it Estella?"
I found myself nodding. I didn't want to blame my best friend for what had happened, but she had been the one to kiss Crispin. If she hadn't, maybe I'd be the one making out with him, now. The thought was unbearable, and I held Andie closer as she smoothed my hair.
"I'm so sorry," she muttered. "Do you want me to take you home?"
Boys That Tease: A Bully Romance (Lords Of Wildwood Book 1) Page 8