Tamed (Cherry Grove Book 2)

by Cole Lepley

  This makes me smile, even though my stomach is twisted into fifty different knots. I can’t let her see how difficult this is for me. Not until I can make everything right.

  “I’m happy if you’re happy, okay?” I pull her into a hug, and she doesn’t push me away. Her arms come around my waist and I sigh. My lips brush the side of her head. “That’s all that matters.”

  Chapter 20

  Slide Away

  Charlotte - Now

  It was hard to say no to Ollie last night. Not because I’m not used to it, but because I didn’t want to.

  My heart was screaming to give in, rip his clothes off, and fuck his brains out in the hot tub. But I’m more rational than that.

  I know what taking that step would mean. If we give in, we’d be practically ravenous toward each other. Both succumbing to blinding fits of jealousy and mind-blowing, out of our minds with madness, sex. Like, all the time. Ollie can go for hours without stopping. That’s why I never laugh when someone jokes about his stamina. He’s got it for days.

  My cheeks are no doubt flushed when I step inside the diner downtown. I’ve been feeling kind of stir crazy in the house all day. Not working or dancing isn’t something I’m used to. My life was constantly moving without even the slightest interruption to give me free time. Now it’s silent. All I do is think. All I do is relive every memory I’d locked away when I left. It hurts terribly when I don’t. That ache I have for Ollie. I missed him more than I ever imagined.

  Every breakup is hard, and I knew that—but this was insufferable. I spent the biggest part of my life loving him with every ounce of my soul. Separating myself from him was like severing a part of my own body and desperately wanting to forget I ever knew what it felt like to have it.

  The lady at the counter is staring at me, tilting her head in annoyance. I suddenly realize I haven’t said anything and I have no idea how long I’ve been lost in my thoughts.

  I flash quick smile. “Pick-up for Reed.”

  The smile she gives back to me is forced, and she snaps her pad of paper closed. “It’s almost ready. Can I get you something to drink while you wait?”

  “Just a water, please,” I say, sliding onto the vinyl barstool at the counter.

  She gives me a nod and turns back toward the kitchen. I hold my purse in my lap while I wait, my eyes scanning the walls I used to know by heart. When Ollie wasn’t forcing me to eat pizza made into squares, he was bringing me here.

  We’d sit in the back booth for hours sometimes. He’d eat a couple burgers and still finish the rest of my root beer float. I used to think we talked about everything. It always felt that way. I know for a fact he told me things he never told anyone else. Probably not even Hunter.

  But that’s how Ollie was. He became a completely different person when we were alone.

  “Charlotte!”

  It’s a high-pitched voice that can only belong to one woman. I turn to see my old dance teacher from when I was little. I start to smile and stand up from my stool. “Jen. How are you?”

  She throws her arms around me and brings me in for a hug. “It’s so good to see you.” She pulls back to hold me at arm’s length. “I think the last time was in New York, at Lincoln Center. That showcase was beautiful, simply brilliant.”

  My cheeks flush again. I never was one to take a compliment without getting embarrassed. “Thank you.”

  She smiles, adjusting her purse strap on her shoulder. “Well, what brings you home? Will you be here long?”

  The knot in my stomach twists every time someone asks me that. I don’t want Ollie to know, and this is a small town. Gossip travels fast.

  “I’m taking some time off to clean up loose ends with my Gram’s estate. Last season was so busy I was thinking about taking a break, anyway.”

  “Oh, well we all need a break sometimes. I’m actually looking for another instructor to help prepare for the fall and winter showcases coming up. Missy’s on maternity leave until the beginning of the year, and it’s been a struggle finding what I’m looking for.”

  I nod, silently praying she doesn’t ask me. I don’t need another reason to stay here longer than I have to. “I’ll ask around,” I say quickly.

  The waitress returns with my food and I reach in my bag for my wallet. I lay several bills on the counter and turn back to Jen. “It was nice to see you. I’ve been running into a lot of people since I’ve been back. It feels nice.”

  She pats my shoulder. “You too, dear.” She leans in closer. “I do hope you’ll drop by the studio soon. It’d be nice to have you around.”

  “Sure.”

  My response is sincere, but I grab my order and turn for the door so I don’t have to elaborate further. When I make it to my car, I sit with the engine idling for a moment, my hands on the wheel. Everything’s starting to feel so familiar and it’s scaring the shit out of me. I need to tread carefully with Oliver.

  I need to remember why I left in the first place.

  It’s Sunday and I’m doing laundry when I hear a tap on my window. I listen for it again and right on cue, there’s another ping. With a sigh I walk down the short hallway to my bedroom and pull the curtain back. Ollie grins up at me, holding a plastic bag in his hand. I lean down and raise the window.

  “What are you doing, Ollie?”

  He lifts the bag up. “I brought snacks.”

  “For what?”

  “To hang out. I know you want to watch the new episode of the Kardashians with me.” He laughs once. “Can’t believe that shit’s still on.”

  I laugh too, but then bite the inside of my cheek nervously. If I let him in my window, he’ll be in my bedroom. Nothing good starts with that combination.

  “It’s late. Don’t you have school in the morning?”

  He smiles. “That sounds like something you’ve said before. I think I’ll be fine.” He shifts around on his feet for a moment. “Are you going to let me up or not?”

  If I’m not mistaken, Ollie looks nervous. That’s definitely a trait I’ve rarely seen in him.

  Before I can change my mind, I slide the window the rest of the way up. I glimpse his cocky grin before I step back into my room and take a seat on the edge of my bed. Several seconds later, he climbs inside with a skill he mastered when we were twelve.

  He tosses the bag to me. “I got all your favorites. Twizzlers, gummy bears, and that cheap popcorn that tastes better than the expensive stuff.”

  I hold the bag in my hand, motionless while he looks around my room. He takes everything in and then flops down next to me. “It still looks the same.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t change much.”

  Ollie is quiet for a moment and then he turns to me and smiles. “Well, I like it.”

  Nervous energy flutters inside me and I reach around him for the bag of snacks, seeking a distraction. I pull out the packet of popcorn and hold it up. “Still like it burnt a little bit?”

  He’s smiling, but it’s subdued. “Yeah, I do.”

  An hour later there’s a half-empty bowl between us and about a dozen various candy wrappers. We’re lying side by side on my bed. Ollie has one arm resting behind his back, and I’m somewhat curled on my side, as close as I can get without actually touching him. Cuddling is a gateway drug. Once you get a taste, it’s only a matter of time before you’re begging for the hard stuff.

  We watched the new episode of the Kardashians, with minimal commentary from Ollie—which is weird because he loves mocking people, and now some movie has started to play. I’m trying to figure out if I’ve seen if before, but Ollie’s behavior is distracting me. I’m discreetly watching him out the corner of my eye, gauging his mood.

  He’s chewing on the tip of a Twizzler, his eyes distant. “I could’ve played football sophomore year.” He looks over at me. “At WVU. I got cleared to play, and they wanted me.”

  I give half a smile, wondering where he’s going with this. “That’s good. Why didn’t you?”

  He shrugs,
turning away to face forward again. “I didn’t want to. It’s not because I couldn’t. My knee’s perfectly fine now.” He shoves the rest of the Twizzler in his mouth and reaches into the bag for another one.

  I sit in silence for a minute, processing his words. It’s like he’s always inside his head, and never says quite what he means. I’m not sure I want him to be clear. My own clarity has been hazy since I got back.

  I push up on my elbow and nudge his side so he looks at me. “Ollie, I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I never said anything to make you feel bad about it, did I?”

  He shakes his head. “No, but I just wanted you to know that I’m not completely broken.” His eyes land on mine. “If that’s what you were worried about.”

  “I’m not worried.” I smile and give him a wink. “I know you’re a champion.”

  This causes a small laugh to bring some brightness back to his eyes. “If you think so.”

  He looks away from me again, his attention moving back to the television. I can’t focus on this movie anymore. Not that I could anyway, because now I’m lying against him and his hand is drifting further and further down my back.

  His fingertips dance slowly along my spine until he rests his hand on my waist. Every few moments his fingers lightly tickle my back inside my T-shirt, and run along my bare skin. It practically lights my body on fire.

  To be honest, it was my fault we took that step in the first place. I pushed our boundaries way further than he ever did, and he never tried to get me to stop. Ollie was always very eager to be intimate with me. I used to think that it was because he was like that with every girl. Always sleeping around with anyone who said yes, not thinking twice about it.

  But now I’m not so sure.

  I slide my arm around his waist, resting my head on his chest. He stiffens at first, but then his lips press to the side of my head and he squeezes me tighter.

  It doesn’t take long for my eyes to get heavy and drift closed. I haven’t been able to sleep very well since I got back, but right now I’m completely calm.

  I don’t care if I wake up tomorrow and he’s still beside me. It couldn’t possibly hurt as bad as when he wasn’t.

  Chapter 21

  Fireworks (Part II)

  Oliver - Then

  Her back is pressed up against the door and my tongue is in her mouth. She kisses me eagerly, small moans clawing up her throat and straight into me. When her hand travels down my pants, I think we may have a problem.

  Sophie Hudson is from one district over and has been eyeing my shit since sophomore year. Their athletic department is far less superior than ours, so you can hardly blame her. She caught me in the hallway outside the bathroom about twenty minutes ago. I didn’t think twice before taking her to my bedroom after she whispered in my ear and grabbed my cock. I like a girl who knows what she wants.

  But now I can’t get into it. She’s sucking on my neck and stroking me at the same time and my dick’s not giving a single fuck. I barely have half a chub even though this girl is seriously hot. Long blonde hair, short tight jean skirt, and—of course—a lovely little cropped tank that accentuates her perfectly round tits. I should be shoving my face in them right now, but my mind is elsewhere.

  I keep thinking about the argument Charlie and I had not even half an hour ago. I get it—Liam’s her boyfriend, but he’s a fucking douche. If she could give me one decent reason she wants to be with that guy, then I’ll be happy for her.

  But she can’t. All she ever says is he’s nice and he cares about her. That doesn’t sound like love to me. It sounds like safe.

  I think Sophie’s getting frustrated, because her hand starts to slow. She tilts her head back and breaks away from my mouth. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” I say, my breathing slightly labored. It’s been exhausting trying so fucking hard to get fucking hard. I lean down and kiss her roughly before pulling back. “I’m great.”

  “You don’t feel great,” her voice trails off and she nods her head at the space between us. “You don’t like this?”

  “No, baby. I love it.” I grip my hand over hers and squeeze, moving up and down with her. I close my eyes. “Just like that.”

  When she leans in and moans beneath my ear, I think we might be getting somewhere. My thoughts start to cloud together, but then a firm series of knocks startles us both.

  “Ollie, you in there, motherfucker?”

  Hunter’s voice growls through the solid oak door and I clasp my hand over Sophie’s mouth. I pull my hand back and put a finger up to my lips for her to be quiet.

  “Yeah. What you need?”

  He laughs darkly. “I suggest you put your dick away and get out here.” There’s a pause and I hold my breath. “Charlie and Liam just got into it in the hallway downstairs. I thought you’d want to know.”

  Any last chance of getting an erection goes out the window, and I take a quick step back as I button my pants. There’s a pout on Sophie’s face when I look up at her, but she doesn’t say anything.

  “I’ll be on the deck,” Hunter says, and then I hear him stomping down the hardwood floors outside the door.

  It’s quiet again and I run my hands through my hair. “I’m sorry,” I say and nod to the door. “I have to take care of that.”

  She nods, adjusting her skirt to a less obscene length. “I figured. You seem like the kind of guy who would cheat on his girlfriend.”

  I sputter a laugh. “Excuse me, what?” I motion to the door again. “That’s not my girlfriend.”

  She shrugs, unaffected. “Whatever. I’m just saying you have a reputation.”

  It shouldn’t surprise me she’s telling me this. If I’m known for being a fuckboy, I earned that shit. But right now, it sucks to hear. Now’s my chance to really be there for Charlie. Maybe by some fucking miracle she might want me, too. I don’t deserve her, but I can’t stand to see her with other guys anymore.

  I look back to Sophie and flash a smile. She doesn’t need to know my moral struggles. That’s not hot. “Maybe some other time?” I lean down and kiss her cheek. “You’re sweet.”

  She giggles in my ear and my work is done. She’ll go to school on Monday regaling her friends about hooking up with me and how sweet I was for caring about my friend. No harm, no foul.

  They don’t need to know I’m an actual person, too. That I have feelings and shit. They just stay inside, where they belong.

  I’m rushing down the stairs through the long hallway that spans most of the second floor. The walls are open on one side, a balcony down to the floor below. My eyes scan back and forth, searching for Charlie. Tucker Vaughn, a guy from baseball, nudges my arm when I’m at the top of the stairs, halting me.

  “What’s up?” I ask, appearing casual.

  He grins. “Dude. I was just gonna ask you the same thing.” He takes a sip from his plastic cup and leans into me. “Everyone’s talking about Hunter choking Liam. What the fuck’s that about? All the girls are in the kitchen.”

  I think my heart gets lodged in my throat. He choked him? I need to know what happened right fucking now.

  “Excuse me,” I say in a clipped tone, shoving past him.

  I take the steps two at a time and round the corner to the stone archway that leads to the vaulted kitchen. As he said, two dozen cheerleaders are gathered around the large granite island, whispering and sipping cups of punch spiked with moonshine. The only thing scarier than large groups of girls is large groups of shit-faced girls. Especially after a boy fight. They love drama.

  Twenty sets of eyes turn my way as I step into the kitchen. Charlie’s seated at the edge of the counter and her eyes widen when they meet mine. She stands up from her stool and I quickly close the distance between us.

  My hands run down her arms, my eyes surveying her closely. “Are you okay?” I pull her closer and grab the sides of her face. “Did he fucking hurt you?”

  “No,” she says, pulling away from me. “Hunter seriou
sly overreacted. It was nothing.”

  “It was not nothing,” Britney Collins chimes in from the island. She flinches when Charlie glares at her over her shoulder. Then she looks at me. “He had her shoved against a wall in the hallway, yelling in her face. He deserved it.”

  My jaw tenses and I clench my fist. “Is that true?”

  Charlie doesn’t falter, her posture remaining rigid. “No. He had every right to be mad. He didn’t hurt me, I wasn’t afraid.”

  I shake my head, my nostrils flaring. “It doesn’t fucking matter.” I point my finger at her. “He shouldn’t get in your face like that.”

  “Ollie—"

  I spin around to go after the motherfucker, but Charlie lunges forward and clings to my arm. She tries to hold me back and even though I could easily get away, I stop. “I’m not going to let him treat you that way.”

  She grunts and lets go of my arm. “It doesn’t matter. Jimmy took him home twenty minutes ago.” I face her and she shrugs. “And anyway, five minutes ago he texted me, and it’s over.”

  Now I really do forget how to breathe. Or at least it feels that way. I take a step closer to her, unaffected by the audience of gossip-crazed girls behind us.

  I swallow the lump in my throat, desperately wishing I had a beer right now. “Is that what you wanted, or did he—”

  “I did,” she says, cutting me off. “He asked me to come to his house and talk to him, but I told him I was done. I can’t do it anymore.”

  For some reason, I laugh. Not because any of this is funny, far from it. It’s just so crazy to me that this girl could possibly have feelings for someone like me. I don’t think it’s narcissistic for me to assume this. Why else couldn’t she love him, if she doesn’t feel something for me instead?

  She looks confused, so I reach for her hand and walk her into the hallway. The eyes follow us until we disappear around the corner. When I turn back to see her face again, she still looks upset.