“Don’t guys just ask for a BJ from a willing girl? You do have your fair share of them. I doubt any of them would’ve settled for a dumb kiss on the side of the mouth.”
And that there is what sets her apart from the other girls.
“Leigh, I don’t want to talk about my junk or other girls.” I slide my hand down her leg and touch the faded cut. “Must’ve hurt backing into the barbed wire fencing.”
“Like a mother,” she says. “How’d you guess?”
“I spotted it next to the damn tree. I should put an inflatable mattress under my window in case you fall out of the tree after burglarizing my room.”
“Doubtful. I never mess up.”
“Take that back,” I growl.
“Why?”
“Never say never. You should know better.”
“Or else what, Seven Shanahan?”
“You’ll fall out of the goddamn tree, that’s what.”
“Stop saving my life and I’ll stop ‘borrowing’ your stuff.”
“I’ll always save your life, Leigh. There are no ands, ifs, or buts about it.”
She rolls onto her back and kicks at me. “Study time. It’s the reason you’re here, isn’t it?”
It is, but I cannot get out of my head Leigh falling out of the tree. Maybe I should talk to Dad about having a security system installed on the house. He’s avoided having one put in saying he feels safer without extra eyes and ears on the house. In the meantime, I can call in a tree service and have them cut off the limbs.
Yeah, my dad will love that, coming home to a limbless tree. He’ll think I went nutso and will go after his balls next for cheating on my kindhearted mom. Maybe cheated. The verdict is still out on that one.
With her body half on, half off the bed, Leigh picks up the books and my notebook off the floor.
“Pull me up.” I hear from under her mass of thick hair.
Uh-uh. Not yet. I have a nice view of her ass cheeks poking out from under her underwear. My fingers itch to caress the underside of her tan ass.
“Seven, did you hear me?”
Talking my boner down again, I grab Leigh by the waist and haul her back on the bed.
With my stuff clasped to her chest, she twists her body and faces me. Pink dots her cheeks, and she is breathing heavy. Dumping the stuff on the bed, she pats the spot in front of her. I have a better idea.
I tuck my hands under her arms and settle her between my outstretched legs. With my back resting on the wall, I nuzzle the curve of her neck and point at the textbooks.
“I’m failing history and leadership. But you already know that.”
“History will be easy. Leadership is something else. You haven’t turned in what’s sinking your grade, a project idea that for phase two, you’ll need to put into action.”
“What’s yours?” I ask.
“I’m not in leadership. My elective is pottery.”
“Like making bowls or a giant heart with your handprint in the middle?”
My smartass comment gets me low laughter from her.
“What’s wrong with my hand on a giant heart?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” I say into her hair, the strands soft. She also smells good. Flowers. Roses and lilacs? My mom has a shit ton of them growing in the back of the house. A place that is an explosion of reds, purples, whites, and yellows from spring to late summer. Mom says her flower garden is her sanctuary.
“Leigh, can I ask a personal question about your parents?”
“I thought we were studying?”
“If you don’t want to get personal—”
“Ask away, Seven. I like talking about my parents.”
She misses them, and I’m a bastard for being angry with my parents for their mess of a marriage. Why’d Dad have to get caught with someone who is not my mom in his hotel room?
Has Leigh heard from her friend, the one she stole a three-mil car from? Shit, we have a ton to talk about. I’ve never had so much to talk about with a girl before. It’s weird. A turn on too.
“You said your parents were very in love. Is it because they had date nights? Went on trips all the time? He brought her flowers and chocolates? Went out of his way to do romantic shit for her?”
“They didn’t do much of date nights or taking trips.”
She plays with my pant leg. Grabs and tugs at the denim.
“We didn’t have a lot of money. My dad brought home flowers from the restaurants he worked at. He took them off the tables when he closed. The owners liked my dad and gave him the okay. Romance is them reminiscing about the day they met and those first few weeks of falling madly in love.”
She reaches behind, cradles the back of my head, and tips her face to mine.
“It’s how they stayed in love. They talked all the time. Sometimes into the early hours of morning. They were each other’s best friends.”
“That’s sweet, Leigh. Thank you for telling me. Your parents sound cool. I would’ve loved to meet them were they alive.” Honest-to-God truth.
“They’d like you.”
“Really?”
“Well, yeah, ’cause I find you so utterly annoying.” She rubs her nose on the underside of my jaw and presses her mouth on my skin. “You are. So. Much. So.”
Her soft lips on my skin. Her warm breath. Her sweet scent. Fuck.
“Leigh.”
“Hmm?”
“You’re equally annoying,” I say. Anything to calm my junk. I’m ready to jizz in my pants, and I haven’t done much except smell her and feel her mouth on my jaw. My jaw, for fuck’s sake.
“We’re agreeing again. That’s not good. We’re supposed to be enemies. Tell me something I’d hate you for.”
“You have pussy dimples?”
She laughs. “What the hell are those? And no way do I have them.”
“Shall we look?”
“We shall not. Jesus, Seven.”
She’s still laughing. I curve my arms around her and pull her all the way against me. It’s amazing how well we fit. I rest my chin on the top of her head.
“Did that guy you stole the Bugatti from get ahold of you?”
“Not yet.”
Her cell on the nightstand buzzes. She moves from between my legs and hops off the bed. Leigh brings the screen to her face.
“Speak of the devil. God, I hope he didn’t bug the place.” Her gaze shoots around her room. “I wouldn’t put it past him.” She answers the call and puts the phone on the nightstand. “You’re on speaker so don’t say anything inappropriate or something that will have me hunting you down.”
“Like you could, kiddo, and I’ll say any goddamn inappropriate thing I’d like.”
“Nice to hear your asshatedness, again, M.”
“M?” I mouth.
She bites down on her bottom lip, looking sexy as fuck. I want to grab the phone from her, end the call, and kiss her breathless.
Deep chuckle from the other end of the line. “What’s up, Leigh?”
“I’m calling in a favor.”
“Sorry, kid, but you’re in my debt and not the other way around.”
“We’re even, M.” She paces with her hands on her hips and a deep furrow between her brows. Leigh is concocting a plan. I perk up. Get a stiffy too. I mean, come on, she’s got brains and looks.
“How’s that?”
“I might’ve borrowed something of yours before I left Cali.”
“What did you steal, little one?”
“Borrowed.”
“Semantics,” he growls. “Fess up, Leigh!”
“Where are you calling me from?”
“My penthouse.”
“The one in San Francisco?”
“Yeah.”
“How many are there?” I say in a low voice.
She flashes her fingers on both hands, then holds up two fingers. Holy fuck. This dude has twelve penthouses?
“Okay, go to your master bedroom closet. The one on the right side of your bed.�
��
She was inside his bedroom? I rise off the bed and march for the phone. Her palm jams against my chest. I knock aside her hand and glower. She rolls her eyes and points at the bed, mouthing for me to sit my ass down.
Defiant, bossy, and evasive. I return to my old spot on the bed and grouse. Fuck’s sake, why won’t she let me ream out the rich dude for showing a minor his stinking bedroom? Leigh didn’t become an “adult” until a month ago.
There’s silence on the other end, followed by the noise of a door sliding on tracks.
“Are you there yet?”
“Yeah.”
“Is something missing from the top shelf?”
A pregnant pause. Then all hell breaks loose.
“What the fuck? Where are my tapes? I’m coming for you, Leigh.”
Over my dead body will the dude hurt her.
“Don’t worry, your sex tapes are safe.”
“How safe? Those are A-list celebrities I fucked. I signed NDAs.”
Non-disclosure agreements. How do I know what that shit acronym means? My dad’s high-profile clients have him sign one before he takes on a job. He gave me a glimpse into his world when I overheard him speaking to my uncle about it years ago.
“Under the ground safe. In a fireproof safe.”
She tips her head behind her. No way did she bury his sex tapes behind the guesthouse. As though she read my mind, she nods. Remind me not to mess with her. Or make a sex tape. Or sign an NDA.
“Will you help now?”
“Go ahead, ask. But, Leigh, after I do this favor and you return the tapes, there will be hell to pay. If you thought three months in juvie was a walk in the park, what I have planned for you is nothing short of a monster wedgie.”
Her eyes widen. She shoves her fist against her mouth. Too late. Laughter bursts from her, and that’s how I know this Maddox dude is cool and can be counted on to do right by Leigh. He loves the hell out of my best friend girl.
Rewind. We are not friends. Leigh and I will never be just friends. I gave her my word, and I’m good for it.
22
LEIGH
For the rest of the week, Seven and I fall into a routine. At school, he picks on me every chance he gets, which isn’t often. I learned his habits and avoid running into him and his friends and teammates.
At night, around midnight, he’ll come into my bedroom through the window. We talk about everything under the sun. Go over the good and the bad of our day too. It’s nice having someone to talk to. Nice having an “enemy” who only wants to “never be just friends,” whatever that means.
I’m scared to ask Seven. Something more is happening with us, and I don’t want to ruin this weird rhythm of us hating-to-love and loving-to-hate one another thing between us.
In other non-Seven news, Thomas texts me every day. We even had a video chat. That was nice too, though I felt like a traitor for laughing at his corny jokes.
But I have a feeling Alistair and my mom are smiling down at me from heaven for giving Thomas the chance to be a father to me. Henry and I text daily too. His messages are along the lines of “how is your day?” and “make any friends?” My favorite is, “any guy giving you a hard time? Let me know and I’ll kick his ass.”
I don’t know what to think of Henry’s sudden overprotectiveness other than one—he’s kissing up, desperate for someone to keep an eye on Hannah and talk sense into her constant partying. She is gone nightly since Thomas and Eleanor left for their trip. Two, he has serious problems at DU and is overcompensating by putting my well-being at the top of his overcompensation list.
Curious, I trolled him and his ex-girlfriend on social media. The redhead is stunning. The guy she cheated on and left Henry for is equally stunning.
The guy is a senior and is on Dumas’ football team. He’s a jerk too. There is a video of him taunting Henry, calling him a loser. Henry didn’t make the cut for the football team.
Henry doesn’t take well to the public shaming. He throws a punch. The jerk sidesteps him and throws his own punch, knocking Henry on his ass. Henry’s face swells up, and he staggers to his feet. He goes for round two, but his friends hold him back and haul him out of the view of the camera. I recognize the guys with him. They were with Henry the night he tried drowning me in the pool.
Fuming, I call Rue. She answers right away.
“What’s up?”
“Got plans this Saturday? If not, let’s go on a road trip.”
“Where?”
“Dumas.”
“Aren’t you working at Queenie’s?”
“I have this Saturday off.”
“Why Dumas?”
I run my plan by her. “Is two days enough time to get everything set up? Can we stay with your sister?”
“I can do you one better, but Red will have to come with.”
I like Red, so it’s not a problem that he tags along. “The more the merrier. Thanks, Rue, I appreciate it.”
On the day of the party, I sit out on the bleachers and watch the football team practice. The same jerk gives me a hard time. As we agreed on when he dropped me off, Malice takes back his word in front of a crowd during lunch period. He and I are not an item. He was toying with me and his teammates. A joke, that’s all.
I don’t miss the triumphant gleam in Seven’s dark eyes, followed by him clenching his jaw when the jerk cackles and loudly says, “Jinx. I knew you were playing us, bro. Who wants to date her anyway? She’s fucking weird.”
That was Tuesday. I stayed for practice and made it on the activity bus right as the doors closed. Someone must have told the driver to wait for me. Yesterday was the same old story, with me sticking around at Seven’s practice and then studying at my place. Seven came over with sweet treats for me and protein-loaded snacks for him. We snacked and studied. When dinnertime rolled around, we took turns picking what we ate.
Monday was pizza. Tuesday, teriyaki. Yesterday, burgers. He didn’t mention Malice or his jerk teammate. We talked about the first thing that came to our minds. Yesterday, it was our ideal pets.
Mine is a big dog. Him, too, the meaner the better, but a softie at heart. Why doesn’t that surprise me? Seven wants a dog that reflects who he is. I told him he should get a pug. I hear they snore.
For my comment, he got me on the couch and tickled me. Wanting to get back at him, I stuck my hand down his mesh shorts and pinched his ass cheek. I expected a yelp but not the deep groan reverberating against my chest.
Turned on by him being turned on, my hands slid to the front of his shorts, and more forward than I’ve been with him, I touched his erection, my fingers gliding over his thickness and the velvety tip of his penis. He hid his groan in my neck, and out of breath with need, I stopped touching him. He pulled me on top of him, out of breath too, and we stayed like that until he softened and our breathing returned to normal.
Being with Seven has me wanting to give him my everything. My dreams. My doubts. My heartaches. My failures. My defiance. My body.
The wind and rain pick up, and I hunch forward and draw my shoulders inward. The last three days has been this annoying drizzle that covers my face like a spray bottle on “mist” setting. It also obscures my sight. I would rather have the skies open and dump rain than put up with “the mist.”
My wish came true. It is dumping, and my umbrella is bearing the brunt of the fat drops pounding on it. Holding on to the handle with one hand, I shove my other hand in my jacket pocket. My teeth chatter. I cocoon my backpack between my feet. With my luck, it’ll fall in the gap in the bleachers and I’ll have to go after it.
In my line of sight, I see a pair of cleats coming closer to me. I slide my eyes upward. Seven is running toward me.
“Hey, wait for me inside my truck. Make sure you turn on the heat. I can hear your teeth chattering from across the field.”
I tip the umbrella back so I can see him. He is soaking wet, and drops of rain cling to his skin, his long lashes, and his mouth. I want to flick the
tip of my tongue on all those places and lick at the drops. His skin would be cool. Salty too.
“Don’t stare at me like that, Leigh.” He blinks at the raindrops in his eyes. “Go before I do something we’ll regret.”
What could he be regretting? It can’t be the temptation to kiss me. We’ve kissed many times, with and without tongues, and he’s never said he regretted kissing me. In fact, he asked if he could keep on kissing me.
“The guys will think something’s going on between us.”
“Well, yeah. I told them you’re out here freezing your ass off because you’re helping me pass my classes.”
“You did?”
He cups the back of his neck. “It’s my own damn fault you’re out here in the cold and rain. It’s time I take responsibility for my fuck-ups.” He hands me his truck keys.
I am so proud of him for owning his mistakes, I don’t defy. Or think too hard on how he hasn’t told his friends and teammates we’re more than study buddies. I take the keys from him.
“Thank you, Seven. I’ll see you soon.”
Does he agree with his jerk teammate that I’m weird and he wouldn’t date me? Is Seven embarrassed or ashamed to be seen in public with me as anything more than his tutor? Is he that concerned with what everyone thinks of him? Is he interested in Ginger? I wouldn’t blame him if he is. She’s drop dead gorgeous, has great fashion sense, is liked by everyone, and she doesn’t rock the boat. Compared to me, Ginger is an angel.
Why go down the road paved with doubt? If I do, I’ll have to give up spending time with Seven. Put the screen back on over my bedroom window. Keep him out of my life, my mind, and my heart.
“Soon. Get warm quick, yeah?”
“Yep.”
He helps me down from the bleachers, one hand holding the umbrella over my head and the other holding my free hand. After my feet are firmly on the ground and he hands me back the umbrella, Seven runs over to his teammates.
Malice and Trace high-five him. His coach clamps his hand on Seven’s shoulder and squeezes. They exchange words. Seven glances my way with a smile on his face. Our gazes lock, and he gives me a two-finger salute.
Beautiful Defiance: Cambridge High Mayhem (Kiss Starter: Cambridge High Book 1) Page 12