You're To Blame: A High School Bully Romance (Haven Saints High)

Home > Other > You're To Blame: A High School Bully Romance (Haven Saints High) > Page 7
You're To Blame: A High School Bully Romance (Haven Saints High) Page 7

by Brooke Jordan


  “Nope. Go do your nightly routine.”

  “Tate, I know you feel guilty for allowing Ethan into your home. You would have defended any of the girls.”

  “Chelsea, great observation. Into the bathroom.”

  “How did you get in here?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Get moving.”

  Staring into the mirror, I brushed my teeth, pondering on what happened at dinner. My father pushed Tate over the edge. There was no way Tate would ever admit to my parents Ethan told him he planned to take my virginity. I brushed my hair into a ponytail and moisturized my face.

  “I am done.” I walked out of the bathroom, peeking to my left. The seat was empty.

  “Come on. Get in bed. You need sleep.”

  “You can’t sit on the sheet.”

  His sneakers sat neatly next to my bed. I climbed under the sheet. “This is weird. I was drunk before. Now I’m sober.”

  “Chelsea, it’s quiet time.”

  I laughed. He sank under the sheet, pulling me into his arms.

  “What makes you think I am a virgin?”

  He snickered. “How many guys have you dated?”

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

  “How many boyfriends have you had? Minus Ethan.”

  “One.”

  He smiled. “That doesn’t count.”

  My nose nuzzled his neck. “It does. You said you wanted me to be your girlfriend, but because of a certain someone you said you wouldn’t ask me. In my heart. You were my boyfriend.”

  “Were you saving yourself for me?”

  “No, I gave up the goods a long time ago.”

  He chuckled. His deep voice vibrated my entire body.

  “I wrote my name on the boys bathroom wall in ninth grade.”

  “Cut it out.” His hand swayed my shoulder.

  “You’re not that kind of girl?”

  “You don’t know me anymore.”

  “Not true. I will always know you better than anyone else.”

  “I’ll have another boyfriend, eventually.”

  “Next time, I will tell you if they will work out or not. Deal.”

  My heart crushed a little. He was ok with me dating other guys. I guess as long as it wasn’t his enemy.

  “Deal.”

  “No athletes.”

  I pulled back and my brows wrinkled.

  “You can’t tell me who to date.”

  “I am just trying to save you the headache. They’ll get swept away in those big blue eyes. Every time you bat those long lashes, they’ll miss the game-winning shot. All because they were staring at you. Then you’ll get dumped. Dating a geek would work.”

  “Oh, so you’re ok with me dating Rocco.”

  His jaw twitched. “Sleep, Chelsea.”

  My head rested under his chin and my fingers clutched his T-shirt. His arms circled my body. Any other time of day, Tate and me hated each other. In this space, we tolerated each other.

  CHAPTER TEN

  TATE

  I remembered, my knuckles rattling against the enormous wooden door. I used the Culver’s gate code to enter the gate. We had the gate codes to each other’s home.

  Mr. Culver opened the door. “Tate, I am happy you’re here. Come in.”

  I stepped inside. “Thanks for defending Chelsea.” He closed the door behind me.

  “It was nothing, sir. I dropped by because I wanted to check on her. Chelsea wasn’t feeling so good last night.”

  His gray eyes brightened. “That’s awfully nice of you. She’s in the theater room.”

  “Great, I’ll show myself out in a little while.”

  “All right, goodnight.”

  I strolled down the long hall and pushed open the door. The surround sound blasted in the darkroom. Chelsea was curled up under a blanket on the sofa. I grabbed the remote and lowered the volume. She’s asleep. I should leave. Instead, I leaned forward, pulling her into my arms. I sat in a recliner at the other end of the sofa. Chelsea’s head laid upon my chest. I swear it felt like my heart would burst through my rib cage. I reclined the seat.

  “No. No. Stop,” she cried.

  “Shush, it’s just a nightmare.”

  My lips melted against her hair.

  “Tate,” she whispered in her sleep.

  I held her tight. “I’m here.”

  Breaking Ethan’s playing arm wasn’t enough. I should have broken every limb.

  He touched the wrong girl.

  Yesterday, we met in the middle of the field just before the game. Ethan shook my hand and leaned into my ear. “I’m dating Chelsea Culver. Later tonight I plan to fuck her. She was your childhood crush, right?” he snickered.

  “What the fuck? You will not lay a hand on her.” I stepped back pointing my finger at him.

  He laughed again. “You’ll see.”

  I turned to the crowd, staring through Chelsea. Why did she tell him about us? And why would she choose this scum bag to give her virginity to?

  Later that night, he stood in the kitchen holding what belonged to me. I wanted to rip his head off. I warned him. If he took things too far with her before she was ready, I’d break his fucking arm. Felt good following through on my promise.

  I sat outside his house tonight. My aching knuckles burned. Didn’t matter, I’d bust open his face again. After sitting in front of his house for three hours, I left. He never left the house. I knew he was home. He peeked out the window a few times. Fucking coward.

  The door creaked open, bringing me back from my memory.

  “Tate.” Jenny’s eyes widened. “Chris told me you were here,” she whispered.

  “Do you need anything?”

  “No.”

  “You can sleep in one of the guest rooms if you want to spend the night.”

  “No, thank you. She just had a nightmare. I assure you I’ll leave soon.”

  She grinned. “Ok.” Jenny vacated the room.

  I could have any girl in school. The only one who drove me crazy was this one lying in my arms. A situation from our past turned us into enemies.

  She and her family should have remained in their little town. Instead they returned, so our mothers could work side by side. Now I had to see Chelsea almost every day. Having my deepest desire dangled in my face like a fucking carrot every day, destroyed me.

  I couldn’t have sex with Brittany anymore. She’d been cut off months ago. The knowledge of Chelsea returning to Haven River, turned me into a bitter person. I was already an asshole.

  Sunday, after our eventful dinner, Dad and Chris told me how shitty I acted. And that I needed to drive Chelsea to school every day. What the fuck? Helping her sleep was enough. I should have remained calm at dinner, then I wouldn’t be in this mess.

  ∞

  Parked in Chelsea’s driveway, my fingers tapped the steering wheel. My favorite song blared through the G-wagon speakers. I slid my sunglasses down my nose, glancing to my right. Chelsea stood there like a deer in headlights. I rolled down the tinted window.

  “Get in,” I demanded.

  Her cute pouty lips parted. “No. I can drive myself to school.”

  “Guess you didn’t get the memo. Our dads asked that you ride with me for a while.”

  Her arms crossed her chest, and she scowled. “No.”

  I peeled off my sunglasses. “You either get in the truck or I will throw you over my shoulder and plant you in the seat myself.”

  “Ugh,” Chelsea opened the door, tossed her backpack on the floor and hopped inside.

  My eyes fell on her bare thighs as she buckled her seat belt. I adjusted my cock before she noticed. The past two mornings, I’d suffered through cold showers.

  “You can sit with me at lunch. On a trial basis.” I drove out of our subdivision.

  She turned up her nose. “Why would I ever want to do that?”

  I ignored her snarky comment. “I’ll allow your crew of bandits to sit with us.” I raised my finger in the air.


  “The second they act like idiots; they have to return to the misfit table.”

  “My friends aren’t misfits. You and your friends are assholes.”

  She stared straight ahead, seething. It was fucking great. I lived to piss her off.

  “You don’t think Matt’s an asshole.”

  She smirked. “He’s not. He’s still my friend too.” Chelsea winked.

  “Not after I punch him in his mouth again for talking to you.”

  She closed her eyes and silently counted.

  I sat at the stop sign. “Why are you counting?”

  “To keep from wrapping my hands around your neck.”

  I turned right.

  She sighed. “Thank God, you’re picking up Matt.”

  We all lived in the same neighborhood since we were born. Chelsea’s family moved away, but never sold their home. Our homes were passed down from generation to generation. Dad’s father gave him the home before moving to England.

  I ignored her giddiness.

  “Are we picking up your girlfriend too?”

  She grinned.

  “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “You mean you don’t have a girlfriend anymore after Friday night. Thanks for the show by the way.” She laughed.

  I drove through the open gate and parked in Matt’s driveway.

  I gripped her head rest leaning over. “Not sure where you’ve gotten your information, but Brittany was never my girlfriend.”

  Her lips rose and fell. “Oh, so she was just your fuck buddy?”

  “Yup.”

  She turned her attention to Matt’s house. “Is he coming?”

  “Yeah, he’s always running late.”

  “Your non girlfriend didn’t like sharing you.”

  “That’s her problem. She knew what our arrangement was.”

  “Which was?”

  “We dated because she was cheer captain and I am the football captain.”

  “Yuk. I hate jocks more and more every day.”

  The garage door opened a few feet away. A C-class Mercedes drove toward us.

  “Is that…?” Chelsea narrowed her eyes. “…Marissa. It is her. Block her don’t let her pass.”

  “Why?”

  “Do it, Tate.”

  I drove across her path and halted. Chelsea jumped out of the truck.

  “Get out of the car!” Chelsea yelled.

  Marissa gave her the finger.

  I hopped out of the truck and met Matt’s gaze as he exited the house.

  We stepped beside Chelsea. “What’s going on?” I glared between them.

  Marisa’s red lips tipped up.

  “Ask her to get out of the car, Tate.”

  Tears slid down Chelsea’s cheeks and her body violently shook.

  I pulled her against me.

  “Matt, ask your sister to step out of the car.”

  He motioned for her to exit.

  “Keep your girlfriend in check and I will step out.”

  Chelsea balled her fists. Why did she call Chelsea my girlfriend?

  “I’ve got her. Move it.”

  She opened the door, standing in red stilettos.

  Matt peeked at Chelsea. “Why are you mad at Marisa? You guys haven’t talked in years.”

  “I confided in her.”

  She peeked at me. “I told her we kissed, and that you wanted to be my boyfriend. She told me she liked Mason. She planned to tell him how she felt, then he…died.”

  Marissa arms crossed her chest and her crinkle bob styled locks shook as she laughed.

  “I thought you still hated her, Tate?”

  Chelsea lunged forward. I held her tighter.

  “Calm down.”

  “No!” She wiggled to break free and failed.

  “Ethan whispered in my ear as he tried to rape me. He said I was Tate’s first love. The only person who knew that was you, Marisa. Why would you send him to rape me? All because Mason is dead?”

  She smirked. “I don’t have a clue to what you are speaking of.”

  Marisa climbed back into her car, drove around my truck, burning rubber out of the driveway.

  “Take me back home, Tate. I need to be alone.”

  Matt’s eyes widened. “No, you can’t be alone.”

  “I will be fine.”

  “No, I’ll stay with you.” He hopped in the backseat of the truck.

  No, the fuck he wouldn’t.

  I needed to focus on Chelsea. She couldn’t stop shaking. I sat her in the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt.

  “Dude, did you know your sister liked Mason?”

  I drove toward the main intersection.

  “Yeah, but not because she told me. I snooped around her room the summer after he died. Her diary was pretty dark. At the time she hated Chelsea. Honestly, I thought she’d grow out of it. Sorry Chelse.”

  She stared out of the window. I turned into the school parking lot.

  “Tate, what are you doing?”

  “Dropping Matt off. Get out, dude. I’ll stay with Chelsea.”

  He gripped my seat. “Tate, don’t say you’ll stay and bail.”

  “What the fuck? I don’t know what the big deal is.”

  Her concerned gaze met Matt’s. “It will be ok. I won’t make Tate leave. Does that make you feel better?”

  Fuck his feelings.

  He sighed. “Yes.”

  Matt’s heavy hand landed on my shoulder. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”

  “Yeah, I got it.”

  Matt walked over to Stephen and Kyle. I waved at the guys as I whipped around, exiting the parking lot.

  “You shouldn’t have told Marisa about us?”

  “I see that now.”

  “Did she know Mason liked you?”

  “I don’t think so. Please don’t hit Matt again for talking to me. I thought he was your best friend.”

  “He is.”

  “Did he know about us?”

  My jaw twitched. “Maybe. Change the subject.”

  Matt was there when I lost my fucking mind. I had to let go of the girl I loved because my brother crushed on her too. Then he died.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHELSEA

  I burst into a fit of laughter. “This is why I hate you.”

  “Because I don’t want to talk about my brother’s death with you?”

  My fingers gripped my hair. “Damn it, Tate! You act like we weren’t there together when the accident happened.”

  He didn’t say a word. Tate gripped the steering wheel tighter. Anger seeped through every pore on his handsome face.

  I leaned in. “We were there together. We just view how his death played out differently.”

  He halted the truck.

  Tate exhaled. “Don’t exit the truck or the alarm will sound.”

  He slammed the door and pressed the keypad locking me in.

  “Asshole,” I roared.

  ~

  Fifteen minutes later, he resurfaced from his house wearing a gray T-shirt and jeans. He hopped in and drove across the street.

  “I can order breakfast if you’re hungry.”

  He killed the engine. Tuning him out right now, brought me peace.

  Standing in my closet, I shimmied out of my tiny skirt and slipped into a pair of black leggings. Tate sat on the oversized center gold chest.

  “You can’t ignore me all day.”

  His sexy eyes were burning a hole in my bare back. I pulled a long sleeve green shirt over my head, then smoothed my hair into a ponytail.

  “If speaking to you this one time means you leave me alone for the rest of the day. Ok.” I jogged down the steps. “I don’t want anything.”

  “Not even your favorite apple cinnamon pancakes?”

  “Tate, I don’t eat those anymore.”

  “Oh, you don’t.” He darted into the kitchen, peeking inside the subzero fridge. Tate held up a jar of fresh apple slices over his head. I licked my lips.

&
nbsp; “So, these aren’t yours?”

  I hopped up trying to grab the jar out of his hand. “Those are for the twins,” I growled.

  He chuckled. “You’re lying. I asked Carson if Emma ate apple cinnamon pancakes like her big sister. He said you were the only one who ate them on Saturday mornings.”

  “Fine, you got me.”

  “Let’s have some fun. We’ll play how well do you know me.”

  “No, I don’t want to play.” I snatched a water bottle out of the fridge and walked away.

  He wrapped his arm around my waist, yanking me off my feet. My stomach fluttered against his arm.

  “I’ll order breakfast.” His deep vocals set my core on fire.

  “Yeah, ok.” I wriggled.

  He sat me on my feet. I didn’t look back as I fled to the movie theater. Remote in hand, I laid on the front oversized brown leather sofa.

  I had to get away from him. Sure, I knew he was trying to cheer me up after facing that liar Marisa. My blood boiled. I couldn’t wait to see her again and slap the shit out of her.

  “Hello, Chelsea, are you listening?” Tate snapped his fingers.

  I blinked twice, then stared up at him. “What’s up?”

  “Our food will be here in twenty minutes.”

  “Thanks.”

  He sat in the recliner. “Do you want to play Call of Duty? Or did you forget how to play video games?”

  “How could I forget? We played all the time.”

  “Good, I was hoping you’d say that. I brought my game station. Prepare to get your ass handed to you.”

  I laughed. “Oh, please.”

  Tate connected the game box to the TV.

  “You don’t have to come back tonight. I slept fine Saturday. Which means I would have been just fine Sunday.”

  He flashed a devilish smile over his shoulder. “You don’t remember sleeping in my arms Saturday night?”

  I sat straight up. “What? No. That didn’t happen.”

  “You can ask your parents. I was here. In that chair.” He pointed.

  “You had a nightmare and called out for me.”

  “Did not.”

  “Here. Think quick.” He tossed his phone, I caught it midair.

  “Check out the last two pics. Oh, and check the date.”

  I scrounged up my nose. “Shit. I am telling my parents not to let you in tonight.”

  He sat on the floor, leaning against the sofa, placing a controller in my hand. “I’ll break in through your window.”

 

‹ Prev