His eyes burn as he looks up at me.
“Goodnight, Bug.”
Heading for the door, I slam it closed behind me and make my way back upstairs.
The bedroom door has no lock, which leaves me cold. There used to be a lock on this door. I clearly remember it saving Huxley and I a few times when his mom would attempt to walk in without knocking.
I hear the water still running in the bathroom, and I can guess that Tobias is getting carried away playing make believe tsunami’s in the sink. Ignoring the photographs around the room, I pull his pyjamas out of his case and ready myself for a night of door watching.
The past
On days like this, I wish I were at home sick too. Kayleigh, my best friend, my only friend, has the flu, and I’m paying for my lunch and looking around the cafeteria, hoping no one will notice I’m sitting alone. Not that they would care. I wish the small voice talking crap in the back of my mind would shut up.
I slip through the students milling around and sitting with their friends, and reach the table Kayleigh and I usually sit at. I’ll sit down, eat, wash it down with the bottle of water I bought, and then dump the tray on my way out before heading to my next class. I’ve barely unwrapped my sandwich when the chair next to mine screeches against the floor as it’s dragged out, and before I can blink, Ryder Keogh is sitting beside me.
He must be lost.
He has to be lost.
He isn’t the star quarterback, but he is on the football team, and he’s just as sought-after as Huxley Bailey-Vaughan, the school’s actual quarterback who, at the moment, has the head cheerleader, Kristy Cunnings, draped across his lap.
I look back to Ryder and try not to gulp. His grey eyes are warm, where normally I would find grey a cold shade. His hair spikes out wherever it wants, and the sides are shaved short. His cheekbones sit snugly above his strong, rounded jawline. Everything about him is unattainable to someone like me.
“Are you new here?” he asks, flashing his brilliant white smile.
“Are you kidding me? I’m in four of your classes,” I say, frowning.
He can’t be serious. We’ve gone to the same schools since kindergarten. Laughing at me, his eyes shine kindly, and it settles my nerves.
“Hey, I’m messing with you. I know who you are, Allison Miller. Where’s your friend today?”
He knows my name. I shouldn’t be surprised, yet my heart is racing away with itself because he does.
“She’s home, sick.”
My hair falls out from behind my ear as I look around to see if this is a prank of some sort. He’s faster than me, tucking it back into place. My knee-jerk reaction is to stiffen, especially when he doesn’t move his hand away. Instead, he leans in and runs his fingers through the rest of my hair. When our eyes meet, I almost turn to mush at his next words.
“It’s as soft as it looks,” he murmurs sweetly, then ruins it when he says, “It’d probably slip straight through my fingers if I grabbed a fist full.”
My eyes widen, and his dance with wickedness.
“Why would you grab it?” I ask dumbly.
“To pull your head back so I can see your eyes while I fuck you from behind.”
My gasp causes him to chuckle. I have no idea what the hell is going on. But I have to admit, I kind of like it, even though I could puke on him any minute.
I dare to look him in the eye and clamp my teeth down on my bottom lip.
“Your eyes are on fire, they’re fucking beautiful.”
“Why are you talking to me?” I blurt out.
As much as I like how this conversation is going, I can’t help but wonder, why today? Why now? And most importantly, why me?
“Because I’m going to marry you one day.”
It’s my turn to laugh, but when he doesn’t join in, my laughter dies out.
“When’s the big day? I’ll be sure to keep the date open,” I smirk, carrying on with the joke. He isn’t getting one over on me if this is some sort of play for entertainment for the football team.
“When the time is right, I’ll let you know. Just promise me, you’ll always keep fighting.”
My smile falters and I swallow thickly. He’s being serious.
“You’ve lost me…why would I have to fight?”
“Because he’ll suck you dry if you let him.”
All humour vanishes from his face as he watches something over my shoulder.
“Remember what I said. Fight him.”
I sense someone close behind me, and then a weight being pushed down on the back of my chair.
I turn in my seat and find Huxley Bailey-Vaughan looking down at me.
The fucking quarterback.
The richest boy in town.
The boy who owns the town. Well, his family owns it, but everyone knows he’ll inherit the lot one day.
“Thanks, Ry. I’ve got it from here.”
Ryder shoots up to his feet, and after pounding his fist to Huxley’s, he retreats to their usual table and falls into the chair next to Kristy, who is now sitting alone. I was enjoying our conversation.
Huxley takes his seat and I turn to face him. This day can’t get any weirder. Kayleigh is going to freak over missing this.
He doesn’t find a way to touch me, nor does he come out with a load of predictable bullshit. He simply gives me his best smile and tells me, “We’re going to have so much fun.”
* * *
PRESENT
He already knew I was going to fall into his web of games. I sat there at lunch that day, not expecting my life to change in the way it did.
A soft chuckle breaks through the darkness that is my past. Rolling over, I see Tobias laughing at something he’s watching on an iPad. I lean up on my elbow and take a better look.
“Where did you get that? I told you not to leave this room.”
“Trenton gave it to me,” he tells me, not taking his eyes away from the screen.
“Have you seen anyone else this morning?” I ask, my heart pounding in my throat.
He shakes his head and gives his attention solely to the shiny, expensive device. I’m surprised he knows how to use it. We don’t have one at home.
Sitting up, the first thing I notice is our suitcases from home sitting by the door. For fuck’s sake. I don’t know what I’m more pissed about, him packing my things, or the cases appearing here when I was sleeping. Both, I decide.
I throw the sheets off my legs and climb out of the bed I would burn if I could, and walk over to our cases. A nervous, uncomfortable feeling settles over me. I don’t want to be caught out, not ready for the day. I find Tobias an outfit to wear, and grab myself a pair of jeans and a sweater. It takes longer to rip Tobias away from the iPad than it does for the both of us to get dressed. Before I open the door, I lean down and get my son’s attention.
“You know the man from the car yesterday? He’s an old friend of mine, and he’s a little weird, okay? We’ll go eat breakfast, and then we’ll figure out what to do today.”
He simply nods and goes to open the door. “I’m starving.”
Of course he is, he’s always bloody hungry. The house hasn’t changed much in the nine years I’ve been gone. It’s still beautiful. It still gleams. It’s still cold and void of any sort of love.
The kitchen table, covered in platters of food and jugs of juices, doesn’t surprise me, but the sight of Huxley in grey sweats and a hoodie does. He was always a clean-cut dresser. I don’t ever recall him in sweats, even after a football game when we were at school. He sits at the head of the table where his father used to sit in the mornings, reading his newspapers. Trenton sits to his side and stops digging into his pancakes when I pull out a chair for Tobias.
“Thanks, Mom,” Tobias says, smiling.
I smile back and wink. This is our thing. He uses the manners I taught him, and it makes him happy that it makes me happy that he remembers.
“How many pancakes do you want, kiddo?”
“Ten,�
�� he giggles, pushing his luck.
“How about three, and if you want seconds, you can have them?”
“Okay.” He pouts, and I bump his shoulder as I load his plate up.
For a brief moment, I forget what’s happened and where we are. Huxley is watching our exchange and clears his throat when I look at him.
Once I’ve poured myself a coffee, and gained a glare for adding sugar and cream, Hux sits forward and pours Trenton another orange juice when he finishes his first glass.
“So, Trenton, this is Allison and Tobias. They’re going to be staying with us now. If Tobias needs anything, you help him out, yes?”
The little boy nods his head and returns to his breakfast. Tobias isn’t interested in anything but his pancakes. Huxley smirks across the table at me, and I return a forced smile.
“And this is my son, Trenton.”
His son.
He has a fucking son.
Well, he has another son.
“Where’s your mommy, Trenton?” I ask the boy, knowing he’ll be more forthright with his answers than his father.
“She’s in heaven,” he tells me, and I’m immediately awash with guilt for asking.
“So is my dad,” Tobias adds, and I think an instant friendship has just sprung before my eyes.
The rest of breakfast is quiet. I barely touch any of the food, choosing to devour as much coffee as I can. Huxley is quick to collect Trenton’s plate when he’s done, and then looks down at his son. I must admit, he’s more attentive than his own father was.
“Trenton, show Tobias the game room, and I’ll be along soon.”
The boy does as he’s told without question, and Tobias jumps down from the chair at the mention of games.
I stay in my seat, and Huxley stays in his. Rose clears the table, and a fresh pot of coffee appears before she leaves.
“Say the words, Bug.”
With him, there are so many words he could want me to say, so I wait for more instruction.
“Say he’s my son,” he growls.
The moment I’ve been dreading for years. Sitting across from him, there’s no point in denying it to him. He knows, I know. We both bloody know.
“He’s your son.”
Slamming his fist on the table, he snarls at me, and I freeze in my seat. Like, literally, I don’t move a muscle. He lurches out of his chair and leans on the table.
“Did you know you were pregnant before you left me?”
I didn’t, but I want to hurt him. “Yes.”
I didn’t find out until I was nearly three months along. It was that day I knew no matter how low I felt, or how bad life got, I would never run back to him for help, all because I knew he would take our son from me. And now, I’m sitting here anyway. I didn’t do a very good job, obviously.
“You knowingly took my son from me?”
To someone who doesn’t know Huxley, you’d think his voice dropping to above a whisper was him being hurt, but I know him better than most. I know it’s an act, something he does to make himself seem normal. It’s how he’s always been. The odd times when he doesn’t care what people think of him, he makes a show of how he thinks he should be for them.
“I’ll give you a week to settle him in and tell him who I am, or I’ll tell him myself. And let me say, I won’t hold back on my version of the truth. I don’t want him grieving for a man who should never have been in his life in the first place.”
Shaking my head, I hold back the tears. This will devastate Tobias.
“Why are you upset? You’re the one who caused this. You left and lied to the poor boy.”
I did plan to tell him the truth once he became a man, hoping he would be able to comprehend what I went through and why I ran. When I met Conner, I knew I had done the right thing. He was the father Tobias needed. I could never, and still can’t, see Huxley being the father he needs.
Straightening himself, he takes a deep breath. I brace myself for him to get in my face, or sneer at me, anything that makes him feel better about trying to break me.
Instead, I exhale heavily when he walks out of the room. With him gone, the air returns to the room. One thing I know as well as I know Huxley hasn’t changed. My son can never know the truth.
The past
I swear, I’ve only just shut my eyes. I’ve got a math test tomorrow, and I stayed up much later than I should have to study. My eyes are too heavy to open, and I swat away whatever is tickling my nose.
Then something warm and firm presses over my mouth and my eyes fly open, no longer tired or heavy, but on full alert.
“Shhh,” I hear. “Don’t scream.”
The pressure on my mouth disappears and I scramble up onto my knees, not believing what, or more like whom, I’m seeing.
“Huxley?” I whisper.
My eyes adjust to the darkness to find he’s sitting on the edge of my bed. Huxley Bailey-Vaughan is sitting on my bed in the middle of the night while my parents are sleeping in the next room.
Oh shit.
“I want to take you on our first date,” he whispers.
“What? Now?”
The time on the clock says it’s 1 a.m., and he wants to take me out?
“Yes, now, or I wouldn’t be here,” he chuckles quietly.
“How did you even get in here?”
“Through your window. Come on, get dressed, and don’t wear much. It’s warm out tonight.”
He’s fully dressed in his jeans and hoodie, and again, I look at the time like it’s going to go back to last night and he’d do this properly…and, you know, knock on the door.
“Are you scared?”
I should be. I’m not the girl a boy sneaks through the window for. I’m not the girl who sneaks out after curfew. Hell, I’m not even the girl who ever dreamed of this happening to her.
“No.”
I have no idea if it’s the truth or not. The rush is overtaking me, and I gravitate toward him, grabbing my sweater on the way.
“Good girl. Let’s go.”
He takes my hand and leads me to the window, only letting go to climb out first. This is happening so fast, there isn’t time to digest it. I’ve never snuck out through my bedroom window before, and the surging adrenaline is a stranger to me, yet euphoric all at once. My parents will ground me for sure if they catch me, but being so close to Huxley, I don’t think anything can get to me. The thrill is overriding the fear.
His jeep is parked up the street, and as we run toward it hand in hand, I can’t help but look back. Nothing is out of place; my dad wasn’t woken and isn’t standing on the porch yelling for me to get my ass back. Nothing but the sound of crickets and our breaths fill the night air, and I smile when he opens the passenger door for me. Climbing in, his smell fills my nose. He jogs around the car and jumps in behind the wheel.
He smiles across at me and I smile back, my mouth stretching the widest I think it ever has. The beach should be a fifteen-minute drive, but with Huxley at the wheel, it takes us nine minutes before he’s coming to a stop by four other cars at the Bailey-Vaughan’s private beach.
I immediately recognise Ryder’s truck, and I can’t help but smile. Hux jumps out first, jogs around the jeep, and opens my door for me. Holding his hand out, I take it and jump down. He’s quick to pull me against him and I chuckle. He’s very smooth.
“I can’t wait to show you off,” he murmurs, brushing his lips across my jaw.
Not quite a kiss, but it’s enough to make me dizzy. With our hands entwined together, we walk down the wooden path and onto the sand toward a fire in the distance.
There must be around fifteen people out here, on a school night, before a big test the next day. Not that any of them seem to care, and I’m certainly not going to bring it up.
In one swift movement, Huxley’s arms wrap around me, and he rests his chin on my shoulder, stopping us from walking any farther.
“I haven’t been enjoying myself all night, that’s why I came for you.”
He spins me around in his arms until I’m facing him, and then my first kiss happens. So warm and hard, he takes control and fists his hand in my hair. His tongue pushes between my lips and I open wider for him. I’m completely swept off my feet, and before I can open my eyes to make sure this is really happening, he’s pulling away.
“All your kisses belong to me now,” he tells me, wearing a boyish grin. I swoon hard.
Once again, I’m spun in his arms until my back is hitting his chest, and then he wraps his arms around me tightly.
“All these people here, and you’re the only one I want to be with.”
He’s saying all the right things to me, but I have no idea what to say back. I’m totally going to look like a freak to him by the end of the night. Kayleigh doesn’t trust his intentions. As soon as I got home from school, I called her up and told her about lunch. She reckons something is going on behind the scenes, but no one can kiss like that without it being real.
Ryder catches my eye, and I wish I hadn’t seen him. Sitting across the fire from us, the shadows dance around his face as his eyes bore into mine.
Shaking his head, he takes a long pull from a beer bottle just as one is pushed into my hand. I’m so absorbed in trying to figure out why Ryder isn’t happy, I miss who gives me the beer. Huxley drinks his and sits down on a chair, pulling me down on his lap. The beer is disgusting, but everyone is drinking it, so I sip and smile, only cringing on the inside when the cold bubbles seep down my throat.
When I wake up, I’m back in my bed.
My eyes burn and my tongue scrapes across the inside of my cheek like sandpaper. I feel disgusting.
A sense of wrongness washes over me, and I lurch out of bed. What’s the time? Oh no, no, no.
It’s just after nine. I’m so late.
What time did I get home?
How did I get home?
Bug Page 3