by Leila James
His hands trail down, rough fingertips caressing my neck, teasing my skin. Desire courses through my system, thick and smoldering hot. He rubs his palms over my breasts, smiling against my mouth when he finds my nipples are already hard enough to cut glass. He nips at my lower lip, making me gasp.
And just like that, his lips leave mine. At close range, he stares into my eyes. “You may not believe me. You may even think you hate me. But you want me.” He smirks like he’s just learned something very important about me, which he has. Because dammit, my body does want him. There’s never been any denying that, not since the first day I met him.
He backs away, then turns and takes off jogging back toward the school.
Motherfucker.
After Xander left, I’d run myself hard. So hard, I’d damn near exhausted myself. When I get to the locker room and hit the shower, I make it super quick. I will forevermore be leery of the stupid locker room and whether I’m the last one inside. I’ll never be left alone here again. I scrub furiously, trying to rid myself of the feel of his hands on me. If you’d told me a week ago that I’d end today sucking face with Xander freaking Grey, I’d have laughed at you. And now I just want to scream. He’d fucking played me. Said he was sorry, all so he could make me melt. Then turned around and pointed out that I want him before running off like a total dick.
My body had completely betrayed me too, going all gooey and soft, wanting to taste his mouth and feel his wild hands on me. Truth be told, I’d wanted even more than he gave me, and once again, I don’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t pulled away first. Not only is he capable of embarrassing me, but dammit, I’d embarrassed myself.
I finish up and pull my towel over the door of the shower stall. As I dry off, I roll my eyes at the lengths I have to go since the naked-without-a-towel incident. I’m to the point where I leave my bag and all of my clothes locked inside my locker, and the towel stays where I can see it instead of being placed on the hook outside. Call me paranoid. Really, though, I’m just trying to save myself from a second round of humiliation.
Chapter 22
“How was your day, sweetheart?” My uncle hands me a plate with one of the steaks he just took off the grill.
“Thank you.” I hesitate for a fraction of a second too long. “Um, it was good.” My eyes flick up to Aunt Liz to find her watching me like a hawk. “I had a good run today, too.” And Xander tastes like the sweetest sin, but he’s a total dickhead.
“You’re sure everything is okay?”
I cut off a hunk of my steak and pop it into my mouth, chewing slowly before answering. I force myself to think about something other than Xander’s firm, masculine lips devouring my mouth. Instead, I think about the good things that have happened since I got to school. Focus on that. “Yeah. I like my job. And I’m getting to know Max and Daphne pretty well. They’re both awesome. My teachers are pretty cool. I didn’t think I was going to like Mrs. Harden, my English teacher, at first because I thought she was a strict you-know-what.” One side of my mouth tips up as I try not to smirk. “But she’s actually nice.”
Aunt Liz laughs. “I am pretty sure your mother had her for English when she was there.”
I wrinkle my nose. “I hadn’t even considered that anyone who might have known her would still be around … but I guess it hasn’t been that long.” I wonder if Mrs. Harden remembers my mother. I should ask. She’d been kind of cryptic when I talked to her earlier today, warning me to watch myself. It makes me think maybe she’s seen an awful lot in her years at Rosehaven. I never really thought about how much student drama teachers and staff must observe year after year. I bet they have some good stories. Maybe even know some secrets they keep. I tuck that thought into the back of my head when Aunt Liz responds.
“I’m sure there is probably more than one teacher still there who taught back then. Seventeen years really isn’t very long. Lots of teachers teach for thirty or more years, especially at a cushy job like that.”
I bite my lip, wondering what sort of info Aunt Liz will tell me if I ask. Mom had always been very tight-lipped about her high school years, and I guess it never occurred to me to ask why. I mean, duh, she had me the fall after she graduated, so I can make certain assumptions—but beyond that, I’m kind of clueless.
If only I knew the whole truth surrounding my mother’s time here. I’m seriously starting to wonder what her experience at Rosehaven had really been like. I hem and haw about it for a few minutes, and decide it’s best not to rock the boat too much right now. Maybe I can ask for more details sometime soon.
My phone buzzes against the hardwood of the dining room table just as we finish up with dinner.
“Go ahead, sweetheart. You’ve made some friends, obviously?”
I nod with a smile as I swipe to open the message.
Unknown Number: Do you know who your mother secretly dated in high school?
My brow furrows. It’s coming from the same number the text about my scholarship had come from. Someone is clearly happy to continue fucking with me. I blow out a breath.
Aunt Liz excitedly gabs about a vacation they’re planning for next summer. Sounds like they are going to Aruba. I don’t want to ruin her good mood.
Besides, it’s not like I haven’t asked myself a million times over who my dad is. But is this person saying they know? Or that the two are somehow connected? I bite my lip.
Me: Maybe you should just tell me.
Unknown Number: That’d be too easy.
Right. What a fun little game this person is playing. I guess talking to Aunt Liz “soon” is going to be right now.
I look up from my phone and pin my eyes on her. “What was Mom like when she was my age? No bullshit, please.”
Uncle David’s brows fly to his hairline, and he coughs, choking a little on his steak. “Wow. Liz, I’m going to let you field that one.” He shakes his head.
Cool as a cucumber, Aunt Liz asks, “Why do you think I’d bullshit you, Scar?”
I shrug. “I feel like I only have a partial story. I thought I knew Mom, but the more I think about it, the longer I’m at her school, the closer I get to the age she was when she had me, I’m pretty sure I’ve been kept in the dark way more than I realized. Or maybe my head’s been in the sand? I mean, she was my mother, so I only want to think the best of her.”
She sighs. “You know, I was quite a lot younger, so I only know what little she told me. She had a rough time at Rosehaven for a long time, though. I do know that.”
Sounds familiar.
“She was a bit of a wallflower, just like you always knew her to be, and didn’t really develop a lot of friendships until much later in life. She was at Rosehaven on an academic scholarship.” Her teeth rake over her lip. “She was lonely, I think.” She stabs a few green beans and brings them to her mouth, though it’s obvious she’s really thinking about what I asked. “It wasn’t until the first half of her senior year that she actually seemed happier for a while.”
I perk up at that. “Oh yeah?”
“I can only assume it had something to do with your father, but I can’t say for sure. She didn’t share that much with me. I was just her bratty little sister, you know?” She flinches a bit, lowering her eyes to her plate. “The honest truth? Your mom was a mess the second half of that year. It wasn’t until summer that I understood she was pregnant and trying to hide it. You were due in early November—obviously. So she’d have gotten pregnant sometime in the middle of February.”
“And she never said who this guy was?”
“Never.” She shakes her head definitively. “She never so much as breathed his name to me. She kept telling our parents that she thought they’d been in love, and the boy hadn’t felt the same once he found out she was pregnant.”
I frown, blinking back tears. “But he knew about me, right? The one time I asked, all she said was she’d been young, and young people make mistakes sometimes.” My fingers quickly swipe under my eyes as a few rog
ue tears sneak out.
“Yes, according to her, he knew. But she refused to give you up. You were wanted, even if things didn’t happen in a conventional manner.”
“Why didn’t you attend Rosehaven? I don’t think I’ve ever specifically asked you that.”
Aunt Liz blows out a steady stream of air. “Some ugly rumors got started—not that I ever heard most of them. I was pretty sheltered from everything that happened by our parents. The major one I know of was that she slept around. I know for a fact that wasn’t true. She didn’t have it in her to do that. I believe with my whole heart that she was genuinely in love.” She shakes her head, staring off into space.
My chest tightens, and I’m kicking myself for making her relive this because it’s obviously upsetting—to both of us. I swipe more tears from my cheeks as I wait for her to be able to finish. She looks a little lost thinking back to that time.
“Anyway, our parents were concerned that kids would give me a hard time. There was talk that the boy she’d been with had already moved on with someone else and that’s why she wouldn’t say anything. Your mother was a good person. I think for a long time she tried to protect him, even though he’d left her.”
“But why would she do that? He got her pregnant and abandoned her.”
Aunt Liz gives Uncle David a sad look before her gaze lands on me again. She blinks away tears forming in her eyes. “Oh, sweetie. I think she held out hope right up until you were born that he’d change his mind.”
Chapter 23
I’m so preoccupied by everything my aunt told me last night it hardly even registers that I have English this morning—the first time back following the tripping incident. All is quiet when I get there, and despite Max’s protests, I insist on sitting in my usual seat. I know if I back down or show fear where these assholes are involved, they’ll just keep bullying me. Because that’s what the dick pics and groin thrusts and taunts and laughing have all been—just a big bunch of overgrown assholes who get off on bullying someone they think can’t take it. Why? Who knows. Because it makes it more fun, I guess. Regardless, I spent a lot of time last night working through everything in my head and for once, my mind is crystal fucking clear where these idiots are concerned.
I won’t let any of them get to me.
Not even Xander.
In the middle of the essay we’re writing, Micah reaches across the aisle, pointing at the charm bracelet my mom gave me. “Do you always wear that bracelet?”
I look at it, fingering the cute little charms, most of them a reminder of places I’d gone with my mom or things we’d done. “Why?”
He shifts in his seat with a grunt. “It constantly makes a little tinkling noise as you write.” He gives me a sheepish half-grin. “Kind of annoying.”
I take a deep, calming breath. “Not that you’d care, or that it’s any of your business, but it’s from my mom. Maybe pay attention to your essay that’s due at the end of class instead of me.”
He leans forward in his seat, getting Beau’s attention. “I think she’s trying to say something about my shitty-ass grades.”
Beau snickers at my side, “Well, she does have a point. Your grades suck right now.” He nudges my arm. “Coach put him on blast this week.”
I gulp and peek at Micah, feeling like shit for the inadvertent insult. “I didn’t—”
Micah raises his hand, like it’s nothing. “I just get easily distracted. It’s all good.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I fumble with the clasp of my bracelet, pinching my finger between the fastening and the sun charm before finally undoing it. I hold his gaze as I put it into a pocket in my backpack. “Hopefully that helps.”
He inclines his head. “Thank you.”
I sneak a glance behind me at Xander, who’s been watching the entire exchange. He raises his brows, and I quickly shift back around in my seat.
I’ve just gone back to working on my essay when Beau chuckles under his breath. “Hey, Micah, maybe she’ll give you her homework to look at again.”
My eyes narrow as they whip back and forth between them before landing on Micah. “You took it?” A swift rush of disbelief courses through me.
He doesn’t answer, just gives his signature shrug.
Who the hell knows what that means?
Scared of what I’ll find—or rather, not find—now that it’s been brought up, I open my notebook to where I keep my homework. Sure e-fucking-nough. My heart sinks as I glance up at Mrs. Harden who is sitting at her desk taking advantage of the class time to grade papers. I turn fully toward Micah. “Did you seriously take my homework? Twice?”
He eyes me for a few seconds before he says under his breath, “Actually, no. I’m not completely stupid. But thanks for the vote of confidence.” Micah’s reply has Beau cracking up.
Out of nowhere, Xander’s rough voice grates through the air. “Give it back. Whoever took it. Right now.” His tone is so commanding, it hits me low in the belly and then snakes lower. Oh, crap. His deep voice messes with my head, not to mention other parts of my anatomy.
Action from the other side of the room attracts everyone’s attention. I shift in my seat toward it. In a huff, Aria opens her folder, yanks out a piece of paper, and passes it to the guy next to her. She crosses her arms over her chest, sulking. What’s really weird is Xander never looks her way once. He’s completely unsurprised, like he knew she had it all along.
He looks down at his essay, his pen gliding across the paper again. His voice rasps, “You’re welcome.”
Chapter 24
Later that evening, I’m working my ass off at Teri & Terry’s Ice Cream when my least favorite group of cheerleaders walk through the door. I straighten my spine, determined not to let them get to me, as they saunter up to the counter like they own the place. I truly don’t give two shits what they think or do. Their whole we’re-better-than-everyone, entitled attitude simply grates on my nerves. I’d also bet these girls haven’t had to work a day in their lives. And apparently, they don’t think they have to do their own homework either. I roll my eyes a little and smirk as I remember the astonished look on Aria’s face when Xander demanded the return of my work. That was too good.
“Hey. It’s Scarlett, right?” Aria shoots a beguiling smile at me. As if she doesn’t know who her man can’t keep his eyes off of lately. Or, for that matter, whose homework she’s stolen. Twice.
“Yep.” Amazing. Not even so much as a hint of an apology.
“Does your mom like ScarJo or something?” She bats her lashes at me as she waits for my answer.
I give her a curious look. “Um, maybe. Why?”
“Farrah here was just wondering if that’s why you were named after her.” She shrugs her shoulders, ignoring the weird look Farrah is giving her. I’m ninety-nine percent sure Farrah actually had nothing to do with that question.
“I’m not. I’m pretty sure it was my hair color that did it. You know—scarlet.”
Aria purses her prettily painted lips and nods. “Interesting. It is red, isn’t it? Not dyed?”
“Yes, it’s red. And no, not dyed. Would you like some ice cream, or …?” I need these girls—Aria in particular—out of my face. I can tell she’s waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Because that’s what vipers like her do.
“We’ll each take a small cup of chocolate, please.” She pauses for a second as I pull the cups down and start to scoop. “So, did you do that on purpose the other day?”
My blue eyes connect with her cool brown ones as I continue to dip into the ice cream barrel. “Did I do what, exactly?”
“Bury your face in Xander’s lap.” She glances at Danica. “Isn’t that what you said you heard, Dani?” She flips her hair over her shoulder, out of the way—like my answer doesn’t matter to her—but I can tell it totally does.
Danica shrugs and almost seems apologetic. “Um. I heard something like that. Probably blown out of proportion.”
Alora gives a wicked little
snort. “Blown being the operative word, obviously.”
All four laugh at her joke. Aria narrows her eyes on me. “Well, I missed out on the show, apparently. I did hear that you have no clue what you’re doing, though.”
My jaw twitches. Don’t go there, Scarlett. “Maybe I should take lessons from you, then?” I blink my eyes innocently and give her a sweet smile as I plop the four cups of ice cream onto the counter, push them across to her, and pull off my gloves to ring them up.
Gasps fall from the mouths of Aria and the three cheerleader Barbies.
“That’ll be eight dollars, please.”
“Take that back.” Aria’s face screws up so terribly that she looks ugly, which makes it even more amusing to me because she’s actually a really pretty girl. She’s just nasty on the inside, and it’s showing itself in her rage-y moment.
“Nah. You came in here trying to get under my skin. You’re just mad that I got under yours instead.” I give her a slow wink.
“Whatever. If you’re not careful, you’re going to get fat working here, bitch.” She shoves the money into my waiting hands.
I raise one eyebrow and press my lips together for a brief second before I respond. I can’t even help myself. “I’m not the one eating all the ice cream, now am I, princess?”
The girls huff and snatch spoons from the cup on the counter, then whirl around, making a quick exit.
“Scarlett?”
I cringe inwardly at the voice behind me. Shit.
Terry puts a hand on my shoulder, turning me to look at him. “I’m sure there was more to that than what I overheard.” He clears his throat, watching as the girls stand outside talking to each other, throwing angry glances into the shop. “But you can’t talk to customers like that.”
“I—I’m really sorry, Terry. I didn’t think. I just threw their nastiness back at them.”