"I won't," I whispered.
"I want to know you only care about me," he went on, his voice breaking over the words. "Not your dad. Or your mom. Or your sister. Or my brother. Or anyone at school. Just. Me."
"I..." I bit my bottom lip. "I do."
He glared at me with those eyes that melted my insides. "Promise?"
"Yeah."
"Good." He nodded, putting the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. He glanced at me before leaning back, his hand on his knee.
"Milo."
"What?"
"Make it better," I managed.
"Make what better?"
I stared at him before taking his hand and gently guiding it over top his shirt, on my chest where my heart was beating wildly. "This."
"How do I make that better, Stells?"
"Touch me."
He shook his head, his words getting caught in his throat. But then he swallowed, nodding at me and tapping his knee. "Get over here."
I hesitated for a moment, but his eyes demanded my obedience. Slowly, I raised my butt off the couch and shifted my position, so I was sitting on his lap, curled up. He took a long, deep breath before touching my hair, gently combing through the dark strands with his fingers.
"You're such a mess, Estella," he whispered.
"I know."
"I want to kiss you."
"So, do it."
He stared at me, his fingers in my hair and his cock starting to press against my bare ass. "What do you have on underneath, Stells?"
"Feel it," I managed.
He groaned but obeyed. His hand fluttered to my thigh, gently spreading my legs. My breathing was out of control as he slowly felt his way up my inner thigh. "You sure?"
I nodded, and kept doing it until his fingers ventured further, and touched a sensitive spot. Then, I bit my lip, and looked away.
"Look at me, Princess," he insisted. "I want you to crave it. To beg for it."
"Please." I swallowed thickly. "Please touch me more."
"Here?" He pressed his palm against my center. I could feel every one of his fingers with such intensity I thought I'd pass out from the sensation. "Where do you want my fingers, Stells?"
"More," I found myself saying. My reservations were going out the window. Everything was changing, and I desperately wanted more. "Please, touch me more. Right there.”
His pointer finger wandered over my bare skin. I'd shaved the night before. I felt so vulnerable. He parted my pussy lips and I gasped out loud, but he shut me up with his lips. His kiss was selfish, not caring about whether I was enjoying it but simply taking what he wanted from me. I melted into his embrace as his fingertips explored my body, and he groaned, making me straddle him so we were touching in even more places.
"You have no idea what you're doing to me," he muttered. "How fucking crazy you make me... How badly you make me want to strip you naked and just... fucking... stare at you for hours."
"Do it," I begged.
"No." He shook his head. "We're doing this right, Estella. I'm not going to lose you again."
"You never lost me," I managed, pressing my lips to his neck and feeling the pulse there. "I was always yours."
He groaned, pulling me closer. My hair fell around us in a curtain that gave us some privacy, and his lips found mine again. "Don't ever run away from me again."
"I won't," I promised softly.
"I'm done chasing you," he growled.
"I'm not done chasing you," I replied. He laughed, nipping at my bottom lip and filling my stomach with butterflies. I felt happy. Happier than ever. The puzzle pieces were finally starting to fit together again. "Milo."
"What?" His voice was breathy, ragged. I knew he was holding back. That he wanted so much more, just like I did.
"I really really like-"
The door burst open and we turned our heads to the intruder barging into the Earnshaw's house. My pupils dilated and in a split moment, he'd grabbed my hair, dragging me off Milo's lap.
"Let fucking go of her!" Milo's enraged scream came from somewhere far away as my father threw me on the ground, away from the boy I was about to confess my love to.
"Don't you dare touch my daughter," papa yelled, advancing on Milo.
"Papa, don't!" I cried out, picking myself up and pulling Milo's shirt down to cover more of my body. "Please, he's done nothing wrong!"
"No?" papa roared, turning to face me. "Nothing wrong, Estella? He wasn't just... defiling you like some common whore?" I let out a sob, watching Milo take a step toward my father, seething with anger.
"You don't get to hurt her anymore," he snarled at papa. "I'm going to-" Before he could finish, papa clocked him in the face, and Milo stumbled backward.
"No!" I screamed, but it was too late. Papa turned to me, a calm expression settling on his face as he grabbed my hand and half-carried, half-dragged me out of the house while I screamed. "Milo! Please no! Milo!"
He came running after us, clutching his nose. It was pouring blood. I started sobbing wildly, but papa paid it no mind. Milo attacked him, trying to get him off me, but papa stashed me in the car, grabbing Milo by the shirt and pushing him back.
"If I ever see you near my daughter again, I'm going to kill you," he told him calmly. "And I'm going to make sure those fag parents of yours go down in flames, too."
Milo glared at him, running up to the car. I pressed my hands to the window, sobbing uncontrollably as papa got in the car. "Let me out! Let me fucking out, papa!" He locked the doors just as Milo tried to open them and reversed out of the driveway like a madman. "Milo!"
He was screaming something I couldn't hear, and papa drove off, brakes screeching on the Earnshaw's driveway. I watched Milo's disappearing figure from the back window, sobbing my eyes out with my heart pounding. Papa was deathly silent throughout.
I sat back down in the backseat, regarding my father with an expression of pure hatred.
"I'm done with you, Estella," he told me. "I'm done with you being a harlot."
"I'm done with you too," I whispered. "I'm done with all of this, papa."
"We'll see about that," he growled out a warning, glaring at me in the mirror. "You're going to regret this. I'll make damn sure of it."
I stayed quiet. I knew it was doomed. But as I settled into the car seat, one thought kept racing through my mind.
I'll be damned if I don't fight for the boy that reads. Because he belongs with me, and I belong to him. Now, and forever. I've never been surer of it.
14
DATE: SEPTEMBER 16TH, 2019, 7 P.M.
LOCATION: MISS JAMES' PLACE
MILO
I pulled up in front of the house, feeling my nerves getting the best of me. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to address what had almost happened between us. But I owed it to Miss James to set things straight. Turning off the ignition, I got out of the car and slowly walked up to the door, rapping on it sharply. It opened a moment later, and a flustered looking Miss James appeared in the doorframe. Once again, she was wearing one of those signature sundresses which I now exclusively associated with her.
"Hey," I muttered.
"Milo. Fuck. Your nose…" Her voice was strained and she stepped aside, motioning for me to follow her into the house I made my way into the front room. At least she'd let me in...
"I'm sorry to just drop by unannounced," I said, finally looking up at her. "But I feel like we left some things unfinished last time."
"Oh," she said, blushing. "Yes, you could say that..."
"I just wanted to clear everything up." I stared her down, and her cheeks got redder and redder by the second. "I don't think this... whatever it is... should really happen."
"W-What?"
"What we did was inappropriate, Miss James," I groaned.
"I invited you to my home..."
"I know you did." I shook my head, rubbing my temples. "You shouldn't have."
"You didn't want to know why I invited you?”
"I... I
t doesn't matter. We aren't supposed to be doing this. You're my admissions advisor, and next year, we're going to be at Eastvale."
"I know," she whispered. "That's what I wanted all along."
"Huh?" I narrowed my eyes at her. "What do you mean?"
She shook her head, giving me a shaky smile. "Look, at least come on in for some iced tea. I just made a pitcher. Do you want a glass?"
I knew it was a bad idea, but I also didn't want to hurt her, and I found myself nodding at her suggestion and following her into the cramped kitchen where a little round dining table stood proudly.
"How are things going with Mr., um, your ex?" I asked as she poured me a frosty glass of iced tea. "Is it awkward at school?"
"Yes, as you can imagine." She grimaced as she set the tall glass down in front of me. "He hasn't been amazing to be around."
"I'm sorry you're going through that." I took a sip of the drink and tried to settle down before looking into her eyes. "Look, we really need to talk."
"I know," she nodded, turning her eyes to the table. "I was hoping we'd get a chance to discuss things..."
"I just don't think this should happen," I went on. "It's so inappropriate, Miss James."
"If that's the only reason..." she started, but I held my hand up and she quietened down.
"It's not the only thing," I said firmly.
"What else, then?" Her brows furrowed and she glared at me. "Don't you want me?"
"I... I'm in love with someone else." Fuck. Saying it out loud really made it feel real.
"Who?" She narrowed her eyes at me, and I looked away uncomfortably. "Is she more beautiful than me?"
"Miss James, please."
"Don't," she cut in. I could tell how hurt she was from the pain in her voice. "What about last time? You just let me do that, and you're telling me you don't have feelings for me?"
"It was a mistake," I muttered. "I'm so sorry, but it really was, and we both know it."
"How can you say that?" Her eyes watered, but I kept looking at her, knowing how important this conversation was. "I did everything for you, Milo. Everything. So we could be together."
"We can't," I reminded her. "It would be a huge scandal, on top of everything else."
"Who's the girl?"
"What?"
"Who's the girl, Milo?" she repeated, obviously seething. "The one you're swapping me out for."
"I don't see how-"
She banged her fist on the table. "Tell me!"
"Jeez..." I shook my head. "It's Estella."
"Estella?" she repeated in disbelief. "Estella Hathorne, I should have known. Once again, it's her."
"I... I think I should go," I muttered. "I just came to tell you before things got super awkward at school."
"Does she know about us?" Miss James interrupted. "What we did?"
"No," I got out through gritted teeth.
"Are you going to tell her?"
"Eventually."
"She deserves to know."
"Yeah, but it's my decision when to tell her," I reminded her. "Please don't go messing everything up."
"Messing everything up." She laughed bitterly. "You're just like my ex. You're all the same. I did all this for nothing. Nothing!"
"What did you do?" I asked. "I didn't ask you to do anything."
"I knew we belonged together!" she screeched. "That's the reason why I did it."
"Did what?" I insisted, and she glared at me.
"The application," she said triumphantly. "Estella's application to Eastvale."
"What about it?" My heart was pounding with worry, but she wouldn't answer. This time, it was my fist that came down on the already wobbly table. "Tell me!"
"I never sent it," she announced, giving me a victorious look. "There's no way she could've gotten into the school, because I only sent your application through."
"You what?" I felt anger pulsing through my veins. "You did what?"
"Don't play dumb, Milo," she laughed bitterly. "You deserved that spot anyway, not that spoiled little bitch."
"Don't call her that," I growled.
"Don't you see?" She reached out for me. "This was the plan all along, so we could be together at Eastvale when I start my new job next year..."
I snatched my hand away from her fingers. "What you did is unforgivable," I told her plainly. "If the school board found out about this, you'd be fired on the spot."
"Maybe so," she muttered, giving me a devious look. "But I'd also have to tell them about our little... game. And then they'd know everything, and you wouldn't be able to stay at Wildwood for your senior year."
"You're fucking... crazy," I muttered.
"Maybe so," she shrugged. "But it looks like you're stuck with me for a while longer, Milo Earnshaw."
I stood up, glaring at her with disgust. "You really want to build a relationship based on lies and your own mistakes? Doesn't seem all that healthy to me, Miss James."
"Call me by my name," she begged again.
"No, I don't think I will." I crossed my arms in front of my body. "I want you to let Eastvale know you made a mistake. I want you to send in Estella's application now. And I want you to bust your ass to get us both into that school."
"Or else what?"
"Or else," I approached. "I'm going to make it public knowledge what you did. Think I give a shit if my name goes up in flames? All I care about is the girl you've fucked over. So you better make this right, and maybe I'll let you get away with what you did to that poor girl."
"Fine," she spat out.
"Fine," I said. "I expect to hear some results by next week."
She didn't respond, just glared at me from her seat at the table. "Don't leave," she suddenly spoke up. "Stay for dinner."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because I'll do anything." She stood up, hips swaying as she approached me, standing mere inches away. "I'll do anything if you stay, and I'll let you have it all, Milo."
"I don't want it all," I reminded her. "I just want you to make things right for my girl."
"Don’t you want me?” There was an edge of desperation to her voice. “Am I not your girl?”
"No," I said firmly. "You most definitely are not." With those words, I left her standing in the kitchen and walked out of her house. My hands formed fists at my sides, my knuckles white as I got in the car. I took a deep breath before reversing out of Miss James' driveway. The reality of what she'd done only hit me when I was already driving home.
Fuck.
This was bad.
I couldn't let Estella find out. Not now, not ever.
"For fuck's sake," I muttered, glaring at my computer screen. An article about Ricardo Hawthorne was staring at me from across the screen. There was no dirt to be found on the guy - in the eye of the public, the preacher was squeaky clean. But I was going to keep looking. I promised myself I'd keep going until I found something. I needed to get Estella and her family away from that monster.
I clicked back to the email site I'd been on earlier. I'd tried unsuccessfully to hack into Stells' Dad's account for days now, but it wasn't working. All my efforts were in vain, and I had nothing to show for it. And I knew I needed to get her away from her father. Sooner, rather than later.
I toyed with a fidget spinner next to my desk, wondering what to do next. I'd tried pretty much everything to get into Mr. Hawthorne's account, save from guessing his password. If I tried that, I knew I'd only get three guesses before I got locked up. But seeing as nothing else was working, I might've as well tried.
I put the fidget spinner down and let my fingers linger on the keyboard. I'd gotten his email from Estella after our time at the nursery home. All that was left was to crack the password.
What the hell did I know about Mr. Hawthorne, anyway?
He was a religious nutcase. He seemingly cared about his family. He was overprotective, and he'd changed the family's surname to appear more genuine, ironically.
I typed in his former name, Ricardo
Hernandez. I winced when the site let me know the password was wrong. I had two tries left.
What else could I focus on? Estella often said family came first, but her father's career was a close second. And even before both of those, there was his faith.
I hesitated before typing in, GodSaveUsAll. A message popped up saying the password had been changed three weeks ago. I furrowed my brows. Probably one of those security measures that made you change your password. Which meant the password was likely similar, but I also had just one try left - one chance to get it right.
I closed my eyes, letting my mind work, and suddenly, a bout of inspiration hit me, and I lowered my fingertips against the keyboard again.
DiosSalvaMe, I typed in, clicking through and bracing myself for another error message.
Instead, the email loaded up in front of me and I nearly fell of the chair in an effort to download the contents of his mailbox. I knew suspicious activity would show up on his account in moments. I needed to work fast.
The contents started downloading, and I quickly dug through the emails to see if there was anything of note. There was nothing suspicious from what I could see. The only thing that stood out was a booking he'd made online. I furrowed my brows, clicking through to the confirmation email.
Congratulations! Your stay at Greenvale Valley Apartments has been confirmed.
I clicked through the link just as the account flashed red. Just like that, I was locked out.
"Fuck," I muttered under my breath. So much for that.
The website for Greenvale Valley opened up on my computer, and I furrowed my brows. It was two states away, up in the mountains. Why the hell would Mr. Hawthorne book a place there? Was he having an affair? Was it possible that he'd been lying to Estella, her sister and her mom? Was there another woman?
The site loaded in front of me. The apartments weren't anything special, reminding me more of a cheap motel. The location was remote, accessible only by a gravel road from what I could see. Why the fuck would Estella's Dad book a place like that? Was he planning on skipping town?
Boys That Read: A High School Romance (Lords of Wildwood Book 2) Page 12