“Absolutely. When do I start?”
“Is tomorrow okay? We have tonight covered for Cambridge’s home game against Delridge.”
A game I won’t be at. My dad loved football. When he wasn’t working, we would spend Saturdays watching college football and Sundays and Thursdays watching NFL football. That was our dad and daughter routine. To watch football without him… I sigh. I miss him.
“Tomorrow is great. Thank you. I appreciate you giving me a job. I mean, you don’t even know me.”
“We can talk more. Are you in a hurry? If you are, I can make the shakes so you can get going.”
Miles is nice. Easy on the eyes too. He’s lanky and tall. Was probably an athlete. I’m guessing track or basketball. His blond hair is short on the sides and unruly on the top. And there is so much depth to his green eyes, a girl can stare into them and lose herself. Miles is gorgeous.
“I’d love to stick around, but my friend is waiting for me.”
Sorrow isn’t, but I haven’t seen her since Seven took me to the hospital, and I need to make sure she’s okay. She’s not a fan of surprises. Buttering her up with a milkshake will make her less pissed at me for stopping by during daylight hours.
“Is this friend of yours a boyfriend?”
I picture Seven and how his eyes never left mine when we kissed. On the corners of our mouths. God, that was hot. Chaste and simple but so freaking hot.
“Not that you and I should start anything if we’re to work together.”
Am I dreaming? This guy has the moral compass of an entity.
“A friend girl,” I offer. “She’s had a rough week. A surprise milkshake will make her day.”
“We all need friends, don’t we?”
“We sure do.”
We smile. He makes the milkshakes. I leave the diner with a spring to my steps. Two friends. I’ve made two friends, and they are good people. I cannot wait to tell Sorrow about Miles. They would like one another. If only I can get Sorrow to leave her house.
15
LEIGH
A knocking on my bedroom window startles me. I stop reading the text from Grandma Chu’s granddaughter. Who or what is outside my window? It’s midnight.
I listen again. Every nerve in my body stands on alert. Silence. I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding and go back to reading the text from Rose. I text her, “Sending money now,” and keep my word, using Venmo. I hit the side button, ready to turn over for the night. But I hear it again.
Tap, tap, tap. What the hell? I hold the cellphone to my chest and slide farther under the covers. Hannah is at a party. Eleanor and Thomas won’t be back from their trip for another week. The only member of the family not accounted for is Henry. Did he return to scare the hell out of me?
I hold still, close my eyes, and listen. Tap, tap, tap. Crap! I should call 911. Except I’ve had mixed experiences with cops and will have to be on my deathbed or someone needs serious help before I’ll call them.
My heart beating fast, I get out of bed, and crouched on the floor with my phone in my hand, I crawl on my hands and knees to the window, hold up my phone, and snap a picture.
The flash is bright. The cursing is loud. The person’s voice is familiar. I pop my head up and yank open the curtains. Seven is outside with his pretty face pressed up against my window.
Under the moonlight, his hair is damp, and he is wearing a dark hoodie. He looks at me with this intensity in his pool of ink eyes, and goodness, Seven Shanahan is gorgeous. Angular face. Full lips. My heart beating faster, I push the window up an inch.
“Why are you here, Seven? Shouldn’t you be out partying?”
I didn’t ask if Mayhem won over Delridge’s football team, the Daredevils.
“I’m here to keep an eye on you. Want to make sure you don’t steal more of my stuff. Let me in, Leigh.” He taps on the glass.
“Use the front door.”
“Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Come inside my house through the damn front door?”
“Of course not. I climbed up the tree by your window.”
“Point made. Let me in.”
In our crouched positions, we are eye to eye.
“Say the magic word.” My mouth suddenly dry, I lick my lips. He follows the movement. Seven takes his time responding.
“Please,” he finally says, tearing his gaze away from my mouth, looking me in the eyes again.
I take off the screen and open the window as far as it’ll go. After he climbs inside, I close the window and leave the screen leaning against the wall. I have a feeling he’ll leave the same way he came in. Crazy boy.
He takes off his sneakers and sets them next to the window screen. Then he strips.
“What are you doing?” I rush forward and stop him with my hands on his wrists.
“You said to put a sock on the snoring. I only snore when I’m uncomfortable as fuck. Three things do that. One, I’m sleeping on someone’s lumpy couch. Two, I doze off wearing clothes to bed. And three, I’m exhausted.”
He was all that on the night he stayed over.
“So, you’ll put a sock on it by—”
“Sleeping in my boxers only and sharing your bed, but I am not exhausted. I’m wired, and you’re the reason.”
“How is it my fault you’re inside my bedroom at the ungodly hour of midnight?”
I let go of his wrists and slip under the covers. Seven strips. I stare at the ceiling. The covers are pulled down. The side of the bed next to me dips. Seven is naked except for his boxers. And he just crawled into my bed. Great.
I scoot as close to the wall as I can without looking like a girl version of Spider Man hanging off the wall sideways. Seven scoots after me. His leg brushes against mine. The hair tickles my sensitive skin, and I bite down on my moan, remembering that only yesterday, I straddled him and almost started grinding on his erection when we kissed.
“Seven, you should stay on your side.”
“Why?”
Does he not feel the heat wafting between us? With me in my skimpy camisole and a pair of lace-trimmed black undies, us in bed like this can get dangerous and dirty real fast.
“It’s hot.”
“But I’m cold.”
“Seven Shanahan, are you whining?”
“Yeah.”
There’s the hint of a smile in his voice.
I blow out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, but after you get warm, leave breathing room.”
“Gotcha. Okay.”
He plasters against me. I hold still, not wanting to encourage him to touch me or something.
“Back to my question. Why are you wired?”
“We lost the game to those bastards.”
“That’s my fault how?”
“You have my lucky coin.”
His fingertips graze mine. I bring my arm up and rest it on my stomach. Anything to keep us from touching. If I let him touch me, I’ll want him to do other things, like kiss me full on the mouth.
“I’m sorry, Seven. I should’ve brought it to you before the game started.” Then I say words that blur the lines. “How can I make it up to you?”
I’m expecting his ask to be dirty. Or for him to take our corner kisses to the full mouth-on-mouth deal. What he asks for, though, is . . . surprising.
“I’d like to know more about you. Where you grew up. What kinds of parents raised you. What your favorite food is. What your dreams are. Heartaches too. And I’d like to know what parts of Cambridge you’d like to explore.”
“Seven Shanahan, are you wanting to spend time with me?” I shift onto my side, and balanced on my elbow, I study his profile.
I left the curtains parted, not trusting myself around Seven in complete darkness.
“Yeah, if it means we can fight so we can kiss and make up afterward.”
Sly grin from Seven.
Smiling, I get on my back again and tell Seven of my life. It’s so nice to have someone to talk t
o, and without meaning to, I overshared.
“I grew up in Oakland, California. My mother, Constance Tan, married my father, Alistair Kim, after she had me. She was nineteen, and my father, twenty-five. They died when I was thirteen.”
“Aw, I’m sorry, Leigh.”
He reaches for my hand under the covers and interlaces our fingers. His palm is rough, and his fingers, big. I concentrate on a spot on the ceiling, my heart beating fast like hummingbird wings.
“What were they like? I mean, aside from the bouts of defiance, you’re cool.”
A compliment from Seven? I ignore the fast beats of my heart and talk to my heart’s desire about the two people I love and miss so much in this world.
“My mother was funny, beautiful, kind, and soft-spoken. She was a seamstress. My father worked odd jobs. They were a good pairing. He was the firecracker to her gentle breeze. Anytime he walked into a room, his presence lit the place up with this contagious energy. If I could bottle it, his energy would have powered an entire block of buildings.”
“He was charismatic.”
“Yes,” I say, in awe of how well Seven understands who my father was.
“I bet he was charming too.”
“Very.” I bite down on my smile. Seven is charismatic and a charmer. The reason his teammates follow his lead and the girls clamor for his attention.
“Did you live with relatives after their deaths?”
“I wish. I spent my years up until a month ago in the foster care system. I turned eighteen on the flight over here. Thomas met me at the airport.”
“Are you saying you celebrated a monumental birthday mid-air?”
“No celebrating,” I admit.
“That’s shitty. I’m sorry, Leigh.”
“Not your fault.”
“Happy belated birthday.”
I wait two beats before answering. After my parents’ deaths, no one took the time to wish me a happy birthday.
“Thank you, Seven.” I squeeze his hand. He squeezes back. He understands how much his wish meant to me.
“My favorite food is Vietnamese pho,” I continue, answering his questions one by one. “No matter sunshine or rain, the soup gives me comfort and reminds me of my parents. My dad worked for this noodle house in Chinatown in San Francisco. They paid him under the table and our meals were half off. We didn’t go often. Traffic in the area is bad, and my father would rather my mom and I stick close to our apartment building.”
“There’s a pho restaurant in the town center.”
“Really?”
He laughs at the excitement in my voice. “You betcha.”
“I’ll have to give it a try.”
“And your dreams? No need telling me of your heartaches, Leigh. I can already guess what that is.”
The tenderness in his voice . . . My throat tightens, and I swallow past the lump lodged there.
Why is he being so nice? Is he tired of me having the upper hand?
Getting outwitted by a girl, a nobody, has got to be an ego-buster for a cocky guy like Seven.
“I would love to work in a large city like Alexandria or Montgomery.” I tell him of my dream, starting with where I’d move to.
Alexandria and Montgomery are two large cities north and south of the small college town of Dumas.
“I’d help disadvantaged kids. Show them what resources are out there. Be a mentor. Someone they trust.”
“So something along the lines of a counselor?”
“Yes.”
“You’d be good, Leigh.”
“Except for my rap sheet.”
“That was my next question.” He lets go of my hand and gets on his side. I do too. We stare at one another. “You don’t need to tell if you don’t want to. It wasn’t a part of my ask, so no biggie.”
The thing is, I do. This part of my life I can’t tell Sorrow. She has enough troubles on her shoulders.
“Petty theft. Breaking and entering. Grand theft auto. All misdemeanors.”
His eyes widen. “No wonder you were able to get in and out of my room without me knowing. You’re an expert.”
Not the expert my dad was until he got caught stealing an EpiPen from the pharmacy. It’s the reason he went to prison for two years. Breaking and entering and robbing a business is a felony.
“I also assaulted someone with a bat, Seven. It’s the reason I spent time in juvie.”
He tucks pieces of my hair behind my ear. “You must’ve had a good reason.”
“I did.” I’m ready to get this off my chest. “One of my foster brothers tried raping this girl he lured into an alley. I found an aluminum bat in the dumpster and broke his arm with it, then went for his legs. He swore never to hurt someone again and promised he wouldn’t tell a soul.”
“You are one hell of a badass, Leigh Kim. But how’d you get nailed with an assault charge if he didn’t snitch?”
“The girl did.”
“Fuck. Again, I’m sorry.”
“I’d do it again.”
“I’m sure you would. That’s who you are.”
“Can you see why I can’t just be? My dad had charisma and charm. My energy is different. I want to do. To challenge. Otherwise, I get antsy.”
“There are other ways to expend that kind of wired energy.”
“Like what?”
His gaze drops to my mouth. “Foreplay.”
I swat his shoulder, the heat between my legs growing unbearable. Goodness, the intense way he’s looking at my lips and licking his, like he wants a mouthful of me . . . “And the prey comes out to play. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. I’m not going there with you.” I move onto my back and sling my arm over my eyes. “I’ll come up with my own methods.”
“Like learning to drive? Grand theft auto. Fuck’s sake, Leigh, how old were you?”
“Legal. Sixteen.” I remove my arm from my eyes and stare at the ceiling. “But I never had formal driver’s ed. My foster parents weren’t willing to let me learn. It was their way of keeping me out of trouble.”
“Yet, you stole a car and took it for a joyride.”
“On a dare. If I did so, my foster brother would leave me alone and not come into my room at night.”
“You mean he came after you first?” He throws off the covers and sits up. “Do you have a last known address for this fucker? I’d like to fuck him up.”
“Language, Seven.” I reach out and pat his shoulder. He does something utterly swoon-worthy. He takes my hand and drops a kiss on my palm.
“The address, Leigh.”
“I don’t have it. He grew out of the foster system.”
“How many homes?”
“Seven over five years. Only one family was decent to me, but they decided not to foster anymore when their daughter became pregnant with twins.”
“Shit.”
“Seven.”
“Crap.”
“Better, thank you.”
“Back to the foreplay.”
“Back to the driving.”
We spoke at the same time. He smiles. I do too. The thick tension in the room fades.
“You first,” I say.
“I’ll table the foreplay for now, but one of these days, I’ll save your life again, and that’s what I’ll be asking for—a taste of you.”
Seven’s mouth on mine? His tongue circling my nipples? His dark head of hair between my legs? I haven’t been properly kissed on the mouth, but I’m not clueless or a prude. I watch porn. I touch myself. To have someone . . . No, not “someone,” but to have Seven touch and taste me . . . My panties dampen. I bite down on the moan lodged in my throat.
It’s a bad idea, having these sinful thoughts. And the mental images . . . The temptation to offer my body to him is as close as on the tip of my tongue, the word “yes” like an aphrodisiac. I slide away from his sculpted shoulders, the patch of chest hair, and the sinful strip of hair disappearing below the waistband of his boxers. He must be feeling my heat too. He scoots closer to
the edge of the bed and slides back under the covers.
“The driving, Leigh?”
“Not your problem. I’ll figure it out. It’s not like I have a car, though jacking Malice’s GT-R would get him indebted to me.”
“You will not steal his baby. And you won’t ever get in a situation where you owe him, Leigh. When a Sterling digs their claws in you and claim you as theirs, you’re done for. Them Sterlings are a possessive, jealous bunch. Promise me?”
“I’ve dealt with guys worse than him. Case in point, there’s you.”
“Ha-ha. Not. Promise, Leigh?”
“Fine.”
“Pinky swear.”
“Seven.”
“Come on, give it to Daddy, right here.”
He gets all up in my personal space and points at the corner of his mouth.
“I will, but don’t refer to yourself as ‘Daddy’ or ever make me call you that.”
“Too pervy?”
“God, yes.”
He laughs. I drop a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. He lingers on mine, his arm curving over my hip in this possessive but gentle way.
“Seven, we should call it a night. Or more like morning. I’m working tomorrow.”
“Where at?”
“I start my new job at Queenie’s Diner.”
“You working for Miles Sinclair’s family?”
“Yes. Miles is nice. Made sure to give me my own blender so strawberry chunks don’t get into it and I go into anaphylactic shock.”
“Your allergy is that bad?”
“Packing double EpiPen bad.”
“Holy fuck.”
“Sucks, really. I used to eat them all the time as a kid, then one day, poof, swollen tongue, eyes, face. It was horrible. I looked like I was stung by a hive of bees on steroids.”
“Is there a different fruit you like that makes up for missing out on cha-bies?”
I laugh. “Cha-bies?”
“You like?”
“Sure.” I’m too happy to tell him that he sounds juvenile when he says strawberries like he’s a little kid. “My other favorite fruit is blueberries. The fatter the better.”
“Yum.”
“Yep, yum,” I agree.
We laugh. I settle further inside the covers, ready for bed. Seven has other ideas. He points to a remote on the nightstand. “What’s that?”
Beautiful Defiance: Cambridge High Mayhem (Kiss Starter: Cambridge High Book 1) Page 7