by Becca Steele
“Dylan!” I stared at him in shock. “Y-you can’t do that!”
“It’s already done.” Crossing his arms, he gave me a stern look.
What was I supposed to do? “At least let me pay you back.” Even as I said it, I had no idea how I would actually achieve that.
He picked up a spool of thread from the table, rolling it along his palm. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. I don’t want to hear any more talk of you paying me back, okay?”
“I can’t let you do that.” Looking up at him, I shook my head, and he shrugged.
“It’s nothing. Can’t friends do something nice for their other friends?”
“They can, but this is a lot of money. Please let me pay you back. It…it might take me a while, but I’ll pay back every penny.”
He sighed, looking resigned. “You’re not going to give this up, are you? Fine, you can pay me back, if it makes you feel better. But you can take as long as you need, and you’re under no obligation.”
I sat back, reassured by his words. “I can’t thank you enough, Dylan. This is so generous of you.”
“What are friends for? I knew how upset you were, and how much this means to you.” With one last smile, he left me to my sewing.
20
Dylan was kind enough to drop me off at home, which I was grateful for, since I had no idea where I stood with Carter, especially with everything that had happened recently, and I didn’t want to take the risk of being shot down by him again. My mind was racing, thinking of ways to pay back the money. Lying on my bed, I picked up my phone and sent Lena a text.
Me: Know any ways to make a bit of cash?
Lena: Drug dealer?
Me: *eye-roll emoji*
Lena: Serious?
Me: Yep.
Lena: How much are we talking, and how quickly?
The next moment my phone was vibrating, and she was calling me. “I’m just leaving a friend’s house. Five minutes from you. Want me to come over?”
Fifteen minutes later I was seated on my bed, and Lena was seated at my desk, deep in thought, idly flipping through my costume design sketch pad. “I’ve got it.” She tapped on an open page, where I’d sketched out a ballgown design, long and flowing with lace embellishments. “Can you make this?”
“Yes…” I nodded slowly. “Why?”
“You know there’s a winter ball for the Alstone elite?” I vaguely knew of it, although I didn’t have a chance to reply as she carried on speaking. “Some of the girls going would kill for a custom, one-off design, but they don’t want to pay the huge price tags. And I know of someone going who would be really keen to support an up-and-coming designer.” She grinned at me.
“Up-and-coming designer? And who?”
“I don’t want to get your hopes up until I’ve spoken to her, but I’m talking about my cousin’s girlfriend.” She snapped a few pictures of my sketch, before scrolling through her phone. “Do you have any photos of the stuff you’ve made? Like the costumes?”
“I do, but what… Are you suggesting that I make a dress for someone? An actual dress that they’re going to wear to an event?”
“Yep. Send me the pics and I’ll see what I can do.”
And that was apparently the end of the conversation, as Lena jumped up. “Next. I just had an idea. You’re coming across as so much more confident than you were even a few weeks ago. We need to keep up the momentum. I checked your social media just now, and…you don’t post a lot, do you?”
“Not really.”
“It’s fine. All I was going to say was, you should start adding pictures. Help to get you out there, less hiding away and more pushing yourself forward. It’s a good idea, right? I’m not saying take loads of selfies, but maybe a few every now and then, and post some stuff showing what you’re up to, or whatever.”
Grabbing my phone from my nightstand, I started scrolling through my embarrassingly bare social media account. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to post a few more pictures.”
“No time like the present.” She grinned at me encouragingly.
“Okay.” A smile spread across my face. “I’ll do it. Starting now. In fact, I’ll start with a selfie.” I stepped right next to Lena, flipping on the selfie camera. “What’s the best angle? I never take these.”
She tutted. “Sometimes I feel like you hide yourself away too much. You’re gorgeous, Raine. You need to appreciate your own looks.”
My cheeks heated at her words. “Ha. I know I should try to appreciate myself. It’s just…I-I don’t really know how to.”
“Tell yourself every day. You already have so much more confidence in yourself than when I first met you. You just need to keep it up.”
“I’ll try.”
“Good. Okay, selfie tips.” She took the phone from my hand. “Ponytail out, flip your head, and get all that hair shaken out.”
I followed her commands. “Now what?”
“Now, we take five million pictures and pick the best one to post.” Turning the phone towards us again, she pressed her face up next to mine. “Silly poses. Tongue out. Fingers up.” I ended up in fits of laughter as she made me do a series of increasingly ridiculous poses and facial expressions, until eventually she stopped. “Go through the pictures I just took, and pick the best.” She handed the phone back to me, and I flipped through the images, smiling. I actually looked like I was having fun. There was a sparkle in my eyes and a genuine smile on my face. I selected an image of us mid-laugh, neither of us looking directly at the camera, and added a filter effect.
Looking at it objectively, I could admit to myself that it was actually a pretty good photo.
“Don’t forget to tag me. I’ve got loads of followers.”
“Of course you have.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not because it’s me, but because of my brother. Every time I post a photo with him in it, people go crazy. Look.” Swiping through her photos, she paused on one of Cassius holding her in a headlock, both of them laughing. They were on a beach somewhere, both wearing sunglasses, and Cassius’ ripped, tattooed body was prominent in the picture. I stared at the likes. “How many thousand?” I whispered, shocked.
“Yeah. That’s the power of Cassius Drummond.” Another eye-roll accompanied her words, and I laughed as I handed the phone back to her.
“I guess you must be used to it by now. Anyway, what caption should I put with our photo?”
She shrugged. “Whatever you want.”
“Posting it now.” I captioned the image with just one word—“friends”—and posted it, making sure I tagged Lena.
“Perfect.” Lena viewed the picture on her own phone. “Maybe I should ask Cassius to take a photo with you—that’d get people talking.”
“I don’t want people talking. I just want it to look like I’m doing fine on my own.”
“Comfort zone.”
“Stop saying that to me.”
“Remember, you can handle anything. You’re strong.”
“I don’t feel very strong.”
“Raine. You. Are. Strong.”
She gave me a quick, unexpected hug. “I’m proud of you, you know? Now, send me those pics so I can forward them to my cousin’s girlfriend.”
“Okay. And thanks. For everything.” Smiling, I navigated to my photo albums, bringing up the folder where I’d saved the images of the costumes I’d made. Selecting some of the best, I forwarded them to her.
Later, once she’d left, I decided to post another photo of the costume I was working on, arranging my sewing machine and supplies as artistically as possible. Once I’d done that, I flipped to the photo of me with Lena and was shocked to see that I already had some likes and comments, mostly from people I’d never spoken to in my life. People I went to school with. And the most shocking thing of all? They were all positive comments. I didn’t kid myself that it would stay that way, but it was a nice surprise.
My phone buzzed, and I checked the notifications that had popped up. I had
a few new followers, and the username of one was @kingblackthorne. Tiny butterflies fluttered to life inside my belly, and I clicked on his profile.
On the outside, looking in, his life looked amazing. Photos of him holding up football trophies, posing with Kian and Xavier, posing with girls (I scrolled past those as quickly as possible), on the beach, even a photo of him from Fright Night with a group of masked guys. I tapped the image, then realised I’d added a heart reaction. Oops. I quickly removed it, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
He had.
The next minute, a message alert popped up, and I steeled myself as I hit the button to view it.
Carter: I saw that heart
I groaned.
Me: My finger slipped
Carter: Sure it did
Me: Scout’s honour
Carter: You weren’t a scout
Me: How do you know?
He didn’t answer me, instead changing the subject.
Carter: Whose car were you getting out of earlier?
Me: Were you spying on me?
Carter: Answer the question, Raine
Me: Dylan Rossiter’s
Carter: Who TF is that?
Me: He’s in drama club with me. He works on set design. I think he’s in your business studies class???
Carter: No idea who he is
The next moment, my phone lit up with an incoming video call. Shit. He was calling me on the app? I shrieked in fright and threw my phone. It hit the floor with a thud.
“Raine?”
I stared at the phone, lying face down on the floor. How had I managed to answer it when I was throwing it?
“Raine? Let me see your face.”
His voice was slightly muffled. I groaned, prodding my phone with my toe. Maybe I could pretend I wasn’t there.
Lena’s voice appeared in my mind, shouting “comfort zone!” So annoying. I swiped my phone from the floor and glanced at the screen, my stomach giving an involuntary flip at the sight of Carter’s face. From what I could see, he was lying on his bed, the navy fabric of his pillow behind his head. His hair was tousled, and his brows were pulled together in a frown.
“Tell me why you were in his car,” he commanded in a low tone.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” I began in a haughty tone, and his frown deepened. “My friend Dylan got me reinstated in the drama club, and he gave me a lift home afterwards. Because he’s nice, and that’s what friends do.”
His eyes darkened. “You don’t want nice.”
“We’re just friends, Carter.” I huffed in exasperation. Why was I even bothering to explain myself?
He ignored my comment. “You should’ve waited for me. I would have taken you home.”
I gaped at him. “Would you, though?”
“Raine.” His voice softened. “I thought we were—hold up. How exactly did he get you reinstated in the drama club?”
Those were details that Carter didn’t need to know. “You’re not the only one with influence at Alstone High,” I said instead.
I could’ve sworn he growled as he stared menacingly at me through the screen. “You’d better be telling the truth about just being friends with him. He wants you, Raine.”
Argh! He was so frustrating. “We are just friends. He doesn’t want me. Some people are capable of being friends without wanting more, you know. And how do you know that he wants me, which he doesn’t, by the way! You don’t even know who he is!” My voice grew louder and higher in pitch, and I winced at the sound, but I made sure I glared at him through the screen. “And also, why do you even care?” I added in a quieter tone.
“I wish I fucking knew,” he muttered, before the screen went blank, and he was gone.
21
The sound of laughter and talking filtered through my open bathroom window as I stood at the sink washing my hands, not loud enough to be an issue, but the sound carried through the still night air. Although I couldn’t see his house from the window, I knew the sound was coming from Carter’s. My aunt was working, and Carter’s parents were probably out, given the noise. While Carter had been adamant about not being behind the money theft, there were still doubts in my mind—after all, who else would have a reason to do that to me, or even have the means to? I stood at the window, hesitating for a long moment, before I made my mind up. I had to know.
Slipping out of the back of the house, I made my way down to the bottom of the garden, to the corner where it joined to Carter’s. Unfortunately, there was no convenient broken fence panel or gap to slip through to get into his garden. Instead, I dragged the recycling bin from its position by the back gate that led out into an alleyway and placed it against Carter’s fence. Then, I climbed up onto it, feeling it wobble beneath me, and gripped the edges of the fence and peered over.
It looked like I was in luck. The large panel of doors was wide open. Before I could think through what I was doing, or even how I was going to get back into my own garden, I was swinging my legs over the fence and dropping to the ground. I made my way up the garden as quickly as I could, thankful that the outside lights were on, meaning the security lights wouldn’t be activated. As long as I kept to the side of the garden, no one should see me.
When I reached the house, I peered in through the open lounge windows, seeing several of Carter’s friends sprawled out on the sofas, Black Panther playing on the giant TV screen. There was another cluster of people standing around and talking at the far side of the room, and I was totally unprepared for the jolt of pure jealousy when I realised that Carter was there, leaning against the wall with his arm loosely around Tina’s waist. I gritted my teeth, tamping down the inexplicable urge to scratch out Tina’s eyeballs, or maybe Carter’s, or both, although Carter barely seemed to be paying her any attention. Instead, I turned my attention to the open doors that led into the huge kitchen.
The kitchen was empty, and I knew I had to take my chance before anyone came in. My heart pounding, I slipped through the doors and ran for the hallway that led to the stairs.
It seemed that luck was on my side for once. I made it to the stairs and raced upstairs as fast as I could. At the top, I took a moment to catch my breath before I crept along the landing towards Carter’s bedroom. Turning the handle softly, I inched inside and closed the door behind me. The room was dark, but the blinds were open, and from the glow of the streetlights I could easily make out the features of the room. I had the torch on my phone that I could use, too, because there was no way I was going to risk turning on a light.
First up, I went for Carter’s desk drawers, flipping on my phone torch after opening the top drawer. Reaching inside, I shuffled the items around—pens, an old camera—
“Carter!” My head snapped around at the giggling word coming from outside the room. Shit! Where could I hide? Slamming the drawer shut, I dived for the door next to me, shoving my way into piles of material. Oh, bloody hell, I was stuck inside his wardrobe. I left the door cracked open, because who knew if it could be opened from the inside? I wasn’t about to be stuck in here all night.
“Mmmm. So this is what Carter Blackthorne’s bedroom looks like.” Tina strutted across the room as Carter flicked on a lamp, and I was suddenly unreasonably jealous. He pulled her to him, and my eyes closed. I couldn’t watch. If only I could close my ears, too.
“What do you want, Tina?” His voice was bored, yet he was still holding her. “What was so important that you had to speak to me in private?”
“What do you think? I wanted to get you alone. Want me to give you a blowie?” Her voice grated on me, and I wanted to rake my nails down her face. Again. My eyes flew open, and I watched her caress the front of his jeans, unable to drag my gaze away even though I was only torturing myself. “Huh. Not feeling it today? Brewer’s droop, maybe?” Her voice was disappointed, and I found myself smiling.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Not today, Tee. Why don’t we go back down to the others? Shots?”
That seemed to appease he
r, and she nodded. “Yes! Got any of those apple ones?” They moved towards the door, and Carter opened it, letting Tina walk through first.
“I’ll see you down there. Just got to do something first.”
Then he closed the door.
Oh, no.
I pressed further back, and held my breath, trying not to make a sound. Then the next thing I knew, the wardrobe doors were being flung open, and he was yanking me out.
“Raine? What the actual fuck?”
Our bodies were aligned, and every part of me was pressed up against him, tingling with awareness. Panic overcame my reaction to his nearness, and I pushed away from him and ran for the door. I only made it two steps before he was behind me with his hand gripping my throat.
For a second, time slowed, and I was aware of everything. My harsh, unsteady breaths, the electric current of lust that was sparking between us, the goosebumps that were breaking out all over my skin. Then, he was spinning me around to face him, and his mouth was on mine.
I couldn’t resist him even if I’d wanted to. My lips parted, and I let him in, kissing him back, feeling his tongue slide against mine. He lifted me into his arms, and I wrapped my legs around him as he walked us backwards, our lips never leaving one another’s.
Spinning us, he pushed me down onto the bed and climbed on top of me, kissing me again. As he settled his heavy body between my legs, I felt his cock, hard as steel between us. My legs wrapped around his waist. “No brewer’s droop, hmm?” Tearing my mouth from his, I couldn’t resist teasing him, and he laughed against my lips, grinding his hips into me.
Lifting himself onto his elbows, he slid my top up, over my stomach. Dropping his head, he pushed down my bra cup and took my nipple into his mouth. He bit down lightly, and I moaned.
“Fuck, Raine.” His voice was a rough, tormented whisper. “Fuck.”
I slid my hands up his back to his broad shoulders. “Carter.”