My mouth quirks into a soft smile. “You’re the best.”
We get lost in painting again, singing along to the rest of the Fleetwood Mac playlist.
“Are you okay?” Thea asks after a comfortable silence.
“I—yeah,” I push out, hoping she can’t hear the strain in my voice. We both know each other too well to easily hide our emotions. Last year it was her hiding from me, but now the tables have turned. I think I’m starting to get why she kept quiet about her drama for so long. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
She turns her big blue eyes on me and my heart leaps into my throat. Crap. She totally sees through me.
Reaching out, Thea takes my hand. “Are you sure? I don’t want to push you, but it seems like there’s a lot weighing you down. I’ve never seen you like this. I know your parents can be a lot to deal with, but you’ve been so quiet lately. Like your light’s gone out.”
My throat tightens. “It’s nothing.”
I force out a laugh and wince at how brittle it sounds, grating on my ears. It seems stupid to moan about rumors and someone spray painting my locker, so I haven’t brought it up. Then there’s all the stuff with Fox. When did my life get so complicated?
“You don’t have to worry about me. There’s a lot on your plate.”
She frowns, squeezing my hand. “Full plate or not, you’re my best friend. You can talk to me about anything. My therapist encourages me to picture pouring water out of a jug when I’m having trouble talking about my problems. We start with little things, and then it gets easier. I always feel a lot better after I’ve let it out instead of holding it all in like I used to, when…”
Thea trails off, but she doesn’t have to finish. I know how hard last year was for her. It’s behind us now and no one can hurt her anymore. She’s shining brighter without the darkness that crept into her life.
Releasing a sigh, I shake my head. “It’s not a big deal. Not yet, anyway.” Just way too complicated to untangle. “I promise, or I’d already be spilling my guts about it. I’m just looking forward to graduating so I can get on with my life, you know?”
She nods. “Okay. Does this call for cupcakes?”
“My favorite kind?” I add hopefully. “And face masks when we’re done with painting.”
“Of course. I’ll bake it all better after we finish this.”
As Thea picks up her paintbrush again, I make a silent vow to tell her once I figure this out for myself. I fill in the sun and moon that make up the logo while she works on the Eclipsed Tarts lettering.
The song changes to The Chain and Connor dances his way into the room on the chorus, shoulders dropping to the drum beats as he lip syncs the lyrics into a hammer. His antics make us laugh.
“Your new office is officially sexy,” he announces with a charming lopsided grin, winking at Thea. He shoots me a nod. “‘Sup, little Landry.”
I flip him off. “What did I say about calling me that? Dude, I will kick your ass, no hesitation.”
Connor is as cocky as ever, the star ex-soccer captain of Silver Lake High with floppy hair and intelligent gray eyes. At first I thought he was an asshole with a bad reputation, too full of his own swagger who was going to break my girl’s heart, but he turned out to be the perfect guy for my best friend.
His grin stretches and he gestures to my crystal bracelet as he sets down the hammer on the counter. “What happened to all that peace and love zen hippie shit?”
A smile threatens to break free, but I keep my expression serious to sell our usual song and dance. “I’ll make an exception for you.”
“Won’t you two ever learn to play nice?” Thea asks fondly. “You’re my two favorite people in the world.”
“We just like to tease, sunshine.” Connor draws her close for a kiss that makes her melt in his arms. He pulls back and smirks at the expression on her face. “She’s family. A little ball busting is healthy.”
He means it, too. Their group of friends that has absorbed me as a package deal with Thea consider themselves a family, one they chose. The guys can be somewhat intimidating with how intense they all are, but deep down they’re good. They each love their partners and they’re fiercely protective—that’s good enough in my book to vibe with them.
“Oh, Dev got back to me in the group chat.” He shows Thea his phone. “His summer break from college starts next Friday, but Oakridge College doesn’t break until a few days after. He’s going to wait until Blair, Gemma, and Lucas are done, then they’ll all drive back to town together.”
Out of all their friends, Thea and Connor both opted out of college. They don’t need it when Thea’s been baking her whole life and Connor is a loaded savvy computer nerd. The dude made bank because of a security app he created.
“Sounds good. Fam picnic in our favorite spot once they’re all back?” Thea suggests.
“You know it, baby.”
Connor steals another kiss while I grab my phone to change out the playlist. A text notification pops up at the top of the screen, sinking my stomach. Mom. My allotted amount of freedom is up for the day.
Mom: You have 15 minutes to get home before I have your father trace your location and pick you up.
“Shit,” I say under my breath. It grates on my nerves the way she summons me. I can feel the damn bars of my cage slamming down. “I’ve gotta go. Sorry, girl. I’ll see if I can come back tomorrow so we can finish painting, okay?”
Thea gives me an understanding look and I shrug. She knows my parents are overbearing. One of the reasons we bonded so easily as friends was because we both could commiserate over nosy mothers. She’s managed to make peace with her mom, but I don’t see that in my future. Not with how mine treats me like a doll—something to look at, a pretty prop to keep her reputation shining, but back on the shelf I go when I don’t meet her expectations.
I hug Thea goodbye and fist bump Connor before heading out.
Lately it seems like it’s more often than not she exerts control over me. At least last year I was allowed a longer leash.
Then again, that was before my parents knew Fox was back in town. Now I can’t breathe without them needing to know about it.
The door slams behind me and I tense as it reverberates off the cream marble floors and the high ceiling of the foyer. Crap, I didn’t mean to do that. I’m wound too tightly, annoyed at being called home before I was ready like I’m a damn child.
“Is that you?” Mom’s voice drifts from the kitchen, where the savory scent of cooking fills the first floor.
“Yeah.” Swallowing back what I really want to say, I add, “Sorry I cut it close. We were still painting.”
Reluctantly, I go into the kitchen and take a seat at the large island in the middle with the same marble as the foyer. Mom was obsessed with making our new house look like it could be a palace from Greek mythology compared to our old one. It was nicer in my opinion since it actually fit us, unlike this oversized, too fancy monstrosity with a ridiculously over the top security system. It always feels cold and empty, no matter how many fruit bowls and flowers she puts out.
Mom has a folder with the Nexus Lab company logo on it, standing at the end of the island. She flicks her eyes up at me briefly. “As long as you’re not late. You need time to study.”
My gaze cuts to our cook, who is preparing dinner. Lana doesn’t pause in sautéing vegetables, familiar with these lectures she gets a front row seat to. Mom pays her three times the going rate for an in-home chef and made her sign an ironclad NDA to keep her mouth shut about whatever she overhears in the house.
It’s yet another thing that changed when my parents got promotions. We used to cook meals together. Holden and I had a running contest to see who could catch the most food in our mouth when Dad would flick us a piece. We became obsessed with the game after a night out at a Hibachi restaurant. We haven’t done that in years.
“I already have my acceptance letter to Northwestern,” I say on autopilot, like I have ever since the thi
ck envelope arrived a few months ago.
The words taste like ash on my tongue.
If I actually cared about going there, I imagine it would be really exciting to have an early acceptance. Impressing a college I don’t give a damn about leaves me feeling empty. I can almost smell the salty ocean air and feel the warm sand—my imaginary happy place filling me with the kind of joy I should feel about college.
Mom turns a page of the report in front of her, releasing a quiet, unimpressed sound of acknowledgement.
I curl my fingers into my palms, concentrating on my breathing. “Isn’t that what matters?”
“Of course. But so does finishing what you start. Are your latest grades in my inbox?”
The line of tension in my shoulders winds tighter. I stare at Lana’s prim white chef uniform and focus on the snaps and sizzles of the vegetables in her pan. “Yup. I forwarded it when the student portal updated this morning.”
“And you’re still on track for Valedictorian?”
“Yes.”
Not that I care. Finishing my senior year at the top of the class doesn’t really matter to me. What I really want is freedom to explore this world, to go on an adventure where I don’t know what awaits me next.
Mom turns another page. She looks the same as always. Her sleek light brown hair that Holden and I get ours from is cut in a fashionable bob, her lips painted red, and her pantsuit pressed to perfection. Even though she never changed her style, something about that summer ten years ago took away my loving parent and replaced her with this woman who hits me with one expectation after another.
I used to be free to run around untethered and untamed, discovering the world around me without a worry of the rules. Now my whims are silenced and if I don’t think first before acting, I get an earful while I’m stuck in this gilded cage of a house.
LIAR. The inescapable words from my locker are burned into my brain.
Reputation. Respect. That’s all that matters to her now, and Dad’s gone along with it ever since he became chief of police.
If they get wind of the rumors and everything else happening at school, Mom will blame me. I don’t want to know what else she can take away from me then, so I’m doing everything to make sure she doesn’t find out.
“How long until dinner?” I ask.
“Twenty minutes,” Lana answers.
“Great. I’m going to change out of my uniform.”
“Tell your brother to come down for dinner,” Mom says.
I can’t escape the room fast enough, hugging myself as I jog upstairs to the landing above the foyer that leads to the bedrooms. At the third door, I knock loud enough to be heard over the thudding base beat vibrating Holden’s door.
“What?” he shouts over the music.
“Dinner in twenty. You’re cordially invited.”
More like our presence is required or else.
“Whatever.”
Holden’s been in a pissy mood ever since his football scholarship was rescinded over the summer. He was all ready to fly the nest as fast as he could—something I don’t blame him for—but his dream was crushed.
Part of me is relieved he’s still here so I don’t have to face Mom and Dad alone, but then guilt swarms in my stomach. Playing football at Ohio State was a big deal to him. I’m no stranger to desires being so close, and yet just out of reach when they’re yanked away.
Now he’s at Ridgeview Community College, the only school he could enroll at on such short notice. It’s not a bad school, but for most graduates of Silver Lake High School it’s a different world than a prep school that educates future politicians and lawyers. Power, that’s what comes out of Silver Lake High.
I open my mouth to ask if he wants to do something this week after school, but his music turns up, drowning out the world. Leaving my brother alone to brood, I continue down the hall to my bedroom.
Once I’m inside, I lean against the door. This is the only spot in the whole house that feels like me. It’s bright and airy, with a macrame wall hanging on a piece of driftwood over my bed. Above it on the ceiling, there’s an old roadmap I tacked up there. I light the incense on my desk and breathe in the floral-infused scent. On a shelf above it, my crystal collection is lined up. A jar sits at the end of the shelf full of rocks, agates, and small geodes. They’re all ones I found with Holden and Fox years ago. I’ve kept them all, including the ones I made into a bracelet.
I touch the old braided leather on my wrist, running my fingertips over the stones in the jewelry.
Heaving a big sigh, I peel out of my school uniform, dropping the blazer in a heap on the floor, followed by my skirt and blouse. I run my fingers through my hair, gathering it up into a messy bun.
Swapping out the lacy bralette and panty set I wore to school for a simple green strappy sports bra, I skip underwear and slip on a pair of gray flowy yoga pants with a slit in the legs that cinches with a cuff at the ankles. This is how I’m most comfortable and it’s already working to relax me. I put on a meditation playlist, roll out my mat, and lose myself to a quick flow of stretches that ease the tension in my body from this afternoon.
As I breathe deeply and arch into a low lunge, my mind drifts where I don’t want it to when I look at the old bracelet on my wrist.
Fox.
What is it about him that I can’t ignore?
Ex-friends really do make the best—or the worst—enemies.
They know how you think. They know all your secrets. They know what will hurt you the most.
Fox hasn’t known me for ten years, but he still understands how to cut me deepest. Except this time he’s the one pushing me down in the dirt, not the one kissing my scraped knees.
I exhale and switch positions. Even if he was fine ignoring me for so long, I don’t think I could ever do the same to him.
At first all he did was ice me out throughout junior year to push me away. I thought we would make it all the way to graduation like that, but then the party happened. After that, he’s been everywhere, around every corner, always watching me.
A switch flipped and I finally have his attention—just not in the way I expected.
Fuck, little daisy. You’ve grown up.
The memory of his deep growl against my flushed skin makes me gasp and lose my balance from tree pose. I plant my feet on the floor and cover my face against the wave of heat traveling down my spine, thighs clenching.
Belatedly, Sam pops into my head. That should speak for itself that it took me this long to think of him. Pursing my lips, I tilt my head to the side. It’s not like we’re officially together, but it doesn’t make me feel great that I was ready to kiss someone else before the guy who wants to be my boyfriend has kissed me, even if Sam doesn’t get my heart racing like Fox does.
With his hypnotizing stormy gaze, his sharp jaw, mysterious tattoos, and those muscles he steals my breath. I can’t deny that I’m attracted to him. My stomach twists in excitement, a coil of desire thrumming in my blood. His hands felt so rough on my neck and I liked it. He doesn’t ask for what I want, he just takes unapologetically.
Heaving a sigh, I nod. It’s time to be honest with Sam. It was never going to work out with us. He was a distraction that didn’t even work. I shouldn’t have used him.
I grab my phone, then hesitate. “Can’t text him. That’s too shitty. Ugh, phone call it is. This is going to suck.”
My eyes close as the phone rings. He picks up.
“Hey, beautiful. This is a surprise. Did you miss me?” The flirtatious tone makes me frown.
“Uh, hey. Listen… Man, this is awkward, but I don’t want to hold out on you.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t think it’s going to work out between us.” I chew on my lip, willing him to get it. “Like dating. I just wanted to be honest with you that I wasn’t feeling it.”
Sam lets out a sharp laugh. “Wow, you really know how to let a guy down easy.”
I hate the swirl of guilt.
I blink. That was news to me.
Ugh.
Who the hell does that?
My parents eat it up. They’re obsessed with Sam. This is exactly why he doesn’t fit who I am. I know I’m making the right choice by stopping this before it goes too far. We haven’t even kissed, though not for lack of trying to get into my pants on his part.
Who I date can’t be a decision I make based on what makes my parents happy. My heart needs to be happy.
“Yeah, sorry dude. That’s totally not happening.”
“You’d really sleep on all this?”
The phone vibrates and I pull it back to find a photo of his shirt pulled off and his basketball shorts sitting low. I lift a brow. Yeah, nothing. Not a flutter, not a tickle, not a swoop. He does absolutely nothing for me.
“Um, yeah I guess I am. It frees you up to find someone who will appreciate, uh…all that.”
Sam laughs again. “Damn, girl. I’m trying to keep you and you’re already setting me up with someone else.”
“Look, it’s not really you, it’s—”
“Don’t.” I startle at the force in his voice and the change in his easygoing demeanor. “Don’t do that. It’s cool. Can we still be friends?”
“Yeah, of course.” I smile in relief that he understands. “I’m sorry we didn’t work out as something more.”
“Don’t be sorry. You’re too pretty for that.”
I have no idea what to say to that. Awkwardly, I end the call after saying goodbye and drop back onto my yoga mat. One of the many weights on my chest evaporate, letting me breathe a little easier.
Thrown off from my meditation zone, I end up drifting over to the window to open it to let in fresh air. I reach for the latch and freeze.
A painfully familiar matte black Charger is lurking at the end of the street. Unease sits in my chest as I wonder if he’s watching my house now.
Isn’t there anywhere I’m safe from him?
Savage Wilder: Dark New Adult High School Bully Romance (Sinners and Saints Book 4) Page 6