“I belong to myself!”
“Have you fucked him?” His hands clench.
“No!”
“You will. He loves you.” A pause as his jaw pops. “And he’s my best friend.” I eat up the expression on his face, so unused to seeing that vulnerability in his features.
“He hasn’t said so. He’s never asked me out for a real date, and I’ve never met his parents. I’m his little secret at school.” Oh, he’s been sweet, but he has yet to take me to dinner or the movies or ask me to come to the football parties with him. “I don’t fit in with your group.”
His chest rises.
“Break up with him.” His words are flat.
But I know he doesn’t mean break up with him so you can be with me, because if anything, I know that wouldn’t be Knox’s style. He cares about Chance and he’d never in a million years pick up where his best friend left off. Goes against everything he believes, I think. Loyalty pours out of every bunched-up, tense muscle in his body right now.
Shame washes over me. Dipping my head, I rub my eyes.
I just…
I just…
His scarred face.
His deep, stormy eyes.
Something twisted and dark that resides in me yearns for him.
And I don’t even know when it snuck up on me.
I just know the real me gravitates to broken people. Their secrets. I wonder what mysteries made him like this, what or who gave him this fragmented heart, the fractured sense of how he sees himself with that slash on his face.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, and I guess I’m sorry for not being strong enough to say those words out loud.
“Nothing’s happened between us, Ava. Get that sad look off your face.”
He misunderstands.
I’m not sad for what I just did. I’m sad because he’s out of my reach.
He swallows. “Shit, don’t break up with him. I shouldn’t have said that. He’s good. He’ll treat you right.” Then, “Just stay away from me,” he pushes out, his voice gravelly and rough as he puts his back to me, and I sense him gathering himself, fortifying, building up his force field.
His shoulders heave with a long exhalation.
“Knox?”
He puts his hand on the doorknob. “What?”
“You’re not ugly. You’re beautiful.”
He pauses but opens the door and slams it shut.
Eventually, I come out of that bathroom after I hear slamming doors and cars driving away. I tiptoe out and find Chance passed out on the couch. Even in sleep, he’s handsome, his full lips parted as he breathes heavily. Beer bottles litter the coffee tables. A half-smoked joint burns in an ashtray. My gaze goes back to him. I should break up with him. Can you even call it breaking up when we aren’t technically dating? His eyes open and he groggily sits up. “Babe…where did you go?” He gives me a squinty look. “Did I screw up? You look weird.”
I sit next to him. “Are you embarrassed by me?”
“No!”
I nod, forging ahead. If I want this, we need to talk. “You keep pressuring me for sex, but I’m not easy, Chance. I want a guy who’s proud to be with me, one who takes me on dates.” I wave my hands around at the mess of his house. “And before you say this was a date, you’re wrong. I want you to come to the group home, meet my brother, and pick me up.”
He recoils then frowns, his forehead scrunching up. “I didn’t realize you were…old-fashioned like that. It’s just the height of football season and being a Shark, we kind of just do what we want…” He trails off, wincing. “That didn’t come out right. I’m sure as shit not talking to any other girls right now, Ava.” He reaches over and cups my nape, pulling our faces close. “Hey, don’t get any crazy ideas of leaving me, okay? We have a game Friday, but Saturday it’s just me and you, feel me? I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.” A lopsided grin curves his lips. “And I’m sorry for pressuring you. You’re just so beautiful and I’m horny. Plus, everybody else was getting lucky.”
I give him a wan smile. “Yeah.”
That Saturday night never came, though.
Because on Friday, I went to the keg party.
With a deep breath, I come back to reality and class. I push those moments with Knox away from me.
Not able to help myself, I look back at Chance, feeling that wave of disappointment and anger that inevitably strikes me when I see him.
As if he knows I was thinking about him, he looks at me. His hand is clasped tightly with Brooklyn’s. Oh, how fast he ran to her.
“How you doing, Brooklyn?” I call out. She’s pretty with sleek chestnut hair that curls around her face. Her mouth twists like she’s eating a lemon, ignoring me.
She’s Jolena’s bestie. What did I expect?
Flipping back around, I study Knox’s hard profile. “Pew-pew-pew. That’s me shooting down your troops, you know, those guards you station around yourself so you don’t have to talk to me.”
“Mmmm.”
“He speaks! Or mumbles—I can’t tell.”
“We’re in class,” he says dryly.
“Hasn’t started yet. You know, I was thinking about Patrick Swayze. Ghost, admittedly, is an excellent movie if you like pottery and spirits and crazy mediums. Point Break is my personal favorite of his. The surfing, jumping out of planes, adrenaline junkie, and those abs—sign me up. But Road House, now that’s like top three worst movies ever made. I appreciate his fighting skills, but the storyline—a pacifist slash bouncer? Pfft.”
“What are the other movies on your worst list?” He still won’t look at me, but he leans a miniscule bit closer, just a hair.
“Showgirls. Elizabeth Berkley as a Vegas stripper—no thanks.”
“Not a Saved by the Bell fan?”
“Nope. And it goes without saying Saw I, II, III, IV, V, and VI all suck.”
“What about Saw VII?”
My mouth gapes. “They made another one? Say it ain’t so.”
“So.” He smirks and looks down at his laptop.
He’s almost there. Just needs a little more pushing…
I tap my pen on the table. “How did you get to be the head Shark? You’re a jerk, A-plus on that, but I don’t really see you as part of some hierarchy of school society. You’re really more of a stoic loner, I think. If you weren’t rich, I bet you’d be a gang leader. The Knox Gang. You’d have a cheap shark tattoo on your neck. Real badass.”
Come on, Knox. Break. Show me who you really are.
“Good thing I’m rich.”
“You still jacking off in bathrooms?”
He starts. “You still fingering yourself in tubs?”
“Not lately.”
“Too bad.”
“Sometimes I wonder what might have happened if you hadn’t left that bathroom. I wonder how things might have been different. If I’d gone to that keg party for you, if I’d been with you—”
“Ava, stop. Please.”
Whatever infinitesimal inches of ground I gained have vanished. He scoots his chair away from me.
“Something about me really gets under your skin. What is it? I don’t think it’s the whole she’s a scholarship girl and so not worth my notice angle. Nope, it’s deeper.”
He sighs.
But I don’t want to stop.
“You asked me about Persephone and Hades once. Remember that? It was one of my favorite myths, Hades falling for the beautiful goddess. He wasn’t interested in any of those other she-demons that lurked around his domain. He only wanted her.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“It’s rather romantic in a god and goddess sort of way. He did kidnap her, I suppose, but he loved her, and kidnapping is really minor compared to what some of those other gods did. She loved him deeply in spite of everyone warning her to stay away. She ate those pomegranate seeds because she knew her mother would never let her live in Hell.”
“She only got to live there with him f
or six months out of the year—then she had to go back to her mother. To me, it sounds like their relationship couldn’t have been that solid.”
“So you do remember.” I let him hear the satisfaction in my voice. “And as far as being solid, absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that. Did you miss me when I was gone?”
My breath hitches as I wait for him to reply, but like the wily devil he is, he avoids my direct question and asks me one instead. He turns and gives me an even better look at his eye, the skin puffy and purple and painful-looking. “I also recall Hades rising up from hell in his black chariot, snatching Persephone, and carting her down to live with dead people. He tricked her into eating those seeds so she’d want to be with him. Is that a sign of a good relationship?”
I shrug. “She was in love with him and she knew it was the only way. Admittedly, he probably scared the bejesus out of her, but she took a chance on her man.”
He grunts. “Really? No one wanted them to be together. None of the gods approved. Who’d love the king of the underworld?”
“The right person.”
He inhales.
Jolena walks past our table and gives Knox a withering look, and I pause.
That black eye…hmmm.
“Your eye has to hurt. It’s like it’s sentient, like it might step right off your face and tell a story. If it did, I’d ask it why the hell Knox Grayson lost control the night of Chance’s party.”
His eyes flare at me.
“Fine. I can tell you’re clamming up as usual. Let’s discuss the fight you obviously got in. I saw my mom with a couple of shiners, you know. Tyler’s dad, Cooper, was a real winner—no job, on drugs, angry. Once, he had her pinned against the wall while he smacked her face. One side. The other. Back and forth. Red welts. Her feet dangled right off the floor, just like in the movies—can you believe it? Vodka bottles rolling—geeze, always with the dang vodka. He looked over his shoulder at me and said, ‘Leave or you’re next.’ I ran.” My chest rises rapidly at my admission.
He leans in. “Where did you go?”
“I didn’t come home for three days. Went to my inner-city school, ate lunch, and went to the tents at night. There were always open ones I could crawl in and no one would notice, plus it was spring and the weather was nice.”
He scowls. “Shit, Ava. Under the bridge? Anything could have happened to you! Why didn’t you go to the police?”
“Rich kid, please. You don’t get it. If I went to the cops, they’d call social services and put me in another foster home. No thanks. I’ll take the devil I know any day.”
A long exhalation comes from him and I see his hands clench. “What happened when you went back?”
Shrugging, I say, “They were fine, all kissy-kissy. She was pregnant and I was just sticking around for my little brother to arrive anyway.” I pause. “Sometimes I wonder if she’s still alive.”
“What about your dad?” His eyes search my face.
“Ha. He was the lottery winner. He left Mama before I was ever born. Last I heard, he worked on an oil rig in the Gulf.”
A brief frown flits over his face, then it softens, his lips parting.
“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, Knox. I have Tyler. He’s mine. He’s everything.” I touch my locket and his eyes follow the movement, his gaze drifting over me until I feel flushed, until surely he can see I’m not thinking about anything but him and how he makes me want to tear off his mask—
I clear my throat. “You really should put some ice on that, or a steak or something. Don’t you have a minion who will run to get you whatever you want? Tylenol? Blowjob?”
His lips twitch.
“Did you get in a tussle over a girl? Doesn’t seem like your style, to be honest. You keep tight control on your emotions—that is, unless you’re under the bleachers.” I flash him a grin.
He reddens but gives me an amused smirk.
Piper dashes over, pushing her cute glasses up on her nose, and I give her a surprised look, so caught up in Knox that I realize I’m barely aware of anyone else in class. She gives me a hug, and some of the dread from walking through the entrance today fades away. “Girlfriend, the dorm news is so awesome! Score! You’re only five minutes from me now! Party time. We can study together too!” She does a little fist pump in the air. She looks over her shoulder when Dane walks in and takes his seat at their table. “Oh, great. My pompous partner is here. He is so…ugh. Gotta go. I’ll come by tonight and we’ll celebrate with Mountain Dew and Taco Bell—your favorite, right? I’ll bring them. Talk later, ’kay?”
And then she’s bouncing away and plopping down in her seat next to him.
He gives me a long look. “Her parents are the ones who took you to the hospital, right?”
How…
He smirks. “Your mouth is open.”
I close my lips. “You’re so weird. I never thought you ever paid any attention to my comings and goings. Also I never told anyone that. Maybe she did?” I eye him warily.
“No. I asked about you once. She told me to jump off a building and stab myself on the way down.”
“Sounds like her—cute but sassy.” I look back at Piper. She’s glaring at Dane, and I distinctly hear her say, “Just watch the stupid movie already, jockass. Yes, the spider dies. I’m sorry you can’t handle it! God, you are such a baby.”
Dane just looks at her like she’s an alien. I bet he’s never even talked to her at Camden, and now he’s stuck.
I turn back, laughing a little.
“I’m glad she’s your friend,” Knox murmurs.
“Even with Piper, I feel so weird here, like I’m on the outside looking in. I’m not the same anymore.”
He stills and I tense up.
Gah, why am I blabbing so much? I just can’t seem to stop.
“But you…you rule the school,” I say. “Girls adore you. Guys are envious. Everyone wants to be next to you, wants to bask in your glory. You’re never lonely. Praise be.”
“Mmmm.”
Oh my God, his noncommittal answers are driving me up the freaking wall!
Mrs. White still hasn’t started class yet. I wish she would so I’d shut up.
“So tell me about the shiner,” I say.
He lets out a heavy sigh and leans in closer, closer, until I can smell his ocean scent.
“Someone pissed me off.”
“Obviously, but who would dare?” I make a pretend gasp and clutch my heart.
He huffs out a laugh. “You keep surprising me, Tulip.”
I’m about to comment—with what, I don’t know, but I do know I enjoy sparring with him—when Mrs. White dims the lights and begins The Wizard of Oz.
“Today we’re going to watch an iconic movie, and I want you to take notes on the metaphors and symbolism you see…” I tune her out, having a hard time concentrating, my mind still on Knox.
He passes me a note, his handwriting neat and careful. He didn’t use script writing, though, choosing to print the letters. We still on to watch Dirty Dancing soon?
I glance up to make sure Mrs. White isn’t looking; she’s settled in at her desk and looking over a textbook.
Sure. Nine good? Tomorrow? We can use FaceTime if we want to talk while it’s playing? Or we can just chat after it’s over? I don’t care. I slide the note back over to him.
Hmmm…if you don’t care, why don’t we just watch it together? I think that would be easier than trying to FaceTime. That way we can bounce ideas around for the essay and take notes. More organic. You can come to my house. Suzy will be there if you want a chaperone. She’s kind of our nanny/manager.
I read it over twice to make sure I didn’t misunderstand him.
Cold and Evil wants to watch it together? With his nanny? Good Lord. He still has one? I smirk. And at his house? I assumed we’d watch separately and then figure it out later. That’s what we agreed to.
I look around to make sure I’m not in a parallel universe.
D
orothy plays on the screen, but I’m not really watching. I sit for a full five minutes, thinking about my response, and I notice that the longer I pause, tapping my pen on the note, the more antsy he becomes, legs bouncing under the table, his fingers drumming against the desk. Still holding his note, I dart my eyes over at him. He’s watching me. Carefully. Intently. Little side glances. Almost grudgingly, as if he really doesn’t want to.
He bites down on that lush bottom lip of his, and warm tingles move through my body as my heart picks up. There’s a fluttery feeling in my stomach—
No. I pass my response over to him.
Why? he sends back.
You know why. You’re one of them. You’re THE SHARK.
So? I just fill a role here. People want someone to fear. Am I so terrible? Didn’t I help you with your tire?
You did. Thank you. No.
He lets out an exhalation, scribbling his response, then passing it over. I got into a fight with Liam. That’s why I have a black eye. Not a big deal.
Huh. I guess football players tussle a lot.
I send him a reply.
Does he look worse than you? What was the fight about?
He reads it and shoves a hand through his dark hair.
I wait, almost expectantly, for him to write a reply, but I get nada.
In fact, he ignores me for the rest of class, and when the bell rings, he jumps up and darts away. I watch his broad shoulders maneuver through the crowd, jostling to get out of the classroom. A few guys call out his name and he waves at them. Then I see Tawny. She waltzes in and latches onto his arm, aligning herself with him. She’s not a cheerleader, but she’s the kind of beautiful that makes your eyes linger while you wonder what kind of genetics created such startling perfection. Luxurious golden brown hair to her waist, a soft oval face, a delicate nose—it’s all very pleasing to the eye. Ugh.
He pauses, looks down at her with a frown, and then stares back at me.
I arch my brow.
Now that’s the kind of girl who jumps at the chance to come to your house, my eyes say.
I give him a thumbs-up while he studies me. He hesitates then tosses an arm around her shoulders. They pause at the entrance as other students maneuver to walk around them, but Knox doesn’t care; he blocks any door he wants.
Dear Ava: Enemies-to-lovers Standalone Romance Page 10