“Wow, who’s the lucky man?” Emily asks as she reaches me in the parking lot.
I shrug. “I don’t know. Can you help me with the door, though?”
She laughs. She takes my keys from me and unlocks the door, then helps me with the trunk. I wiggle out of my backpack straps while holding the vase. Emily tosses her bag in my trunk and eyes up my roses. “Ooh, a card. May I?”
“Knock yourself out. It’s super sweet, depressing, frustrating, and creepy at the same time.”
She raises a brow while taking the card and flowers from me. “Why?”
“Just read.” I climb into my car.
She gets into the car, too, then unveils the card, and reads, “I could have sent a rose, but that won’t do. Not when I feel all of this for you.” Emily giggles. “Red: I love you. White: I wish to be worthy of you. Pink: Thank you. Yellow: Remember me. Yellow with red tip: Friendship. Orange: Desire. Red and yellow: Happy. Peach: Gratitude. Lavender: Enchantment. Black: Farewell. Blue: The unattainable. These are just some of the things I feel. You own my heart.”
Emily flips the card over and then looks at me. “That’s it? Well, it’s certainly not an early birthday gift. Speaking of your birthday, what are we doing?”
“No, not a b-day gift. And I’m not sure I want to do anything.”
“Well, we’re doing something.” She waves the note. “This is straight-up the sweetest, craziest thing ever. Why did they sign it like this?”
I grip the steering wheel. “I don’t know. But you see why I’m a little frustrated?”
“Uh, yeah. Who do you think it is?”
“I thought it was Bryce, but he acted like a total asshole in class. Plus, he said it wasn’t him.”
Emily opens her mouth but snaps it shut as soon as the back door to my POS opens. “God,” Sarah whines, “I swear you pick the only spot in no man’s land, Madison, and say, ‘OMG, there is the best spot in the world, let’s park here.’”
“Shut. Up,” Emily snarls. “Boohoo, you got some exercise in. You know there are children in some third-world country who have to walk thirty miles with no shoes.”
“Good for them” is Sarah’s retort. I just drive and try to tune them out. But they continue to bicker back and forth.
I know Emily is just trying to stick up for me, but I wish she wouldn’t. It’s annoying to go to school and then get into a tiny space and hear nothing but arguing. When I reach Em’s house, I’m actually thankful she’s getting out.
Sarah leans forward as I’m backing out of Emily’s drive. “She forgot her flowers.”
“They’re mine.”
“You bought yourself flowers?” Sarah asks in that “oh, man, you’re pathetic” tone.
I roll my eyes. “I didn’t buy them. Someone else bought them.”
Sarah grumbles, “Graham was going to get me flowers.” I should inquire about this, but I don’t. That’s what she wants, and I’m not in the mood.
I park in our driveway, grab my flowers, and head inside. My mom is coming down the stairs as I’m going up. She makes a noise that sounds like a swoony sigh. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?”
I move past her and groan, “No.”
“Fine. Be like your brother, all secretive.”
That statement really ticks me off. I’m nothing like Kyle. He’s a male whore. Most of the girls he did date only lasted three weeks. One managed two months, but that’s it. And all the breakups were disasters, because when my brother dumps someone, it’s like a tornado just ran through town. The girl would not only call the house constantly for a month straight, she’d drive by—slowly. A sobbing mess, the girl would sometimes bring her friends along—who, in some cases, were hooking up with Kyle. Some girls would even be stupid enough to sleep with him at a party just to try to win him back. I know all this because I was the last resort. They’d cry and confess everything to me, as if I had the magic power to fix it. I don’t.
I sneer at my mom and slam the door to my room behind me. I set the flowers on my desk and reread the card. Why would someone send this and leave it anonymous? A part of me wants—no, is dying—to know who sent this. The other part is grateful for not knowing. I mean, they could be from Danny Livingston. I shudder at the thought.
I toss the card down and pick up my drawing pad just as my phone begins to ring. “Hello?”
“Madison Issac?”
“Yes,” I say to the person on the other end of the line.
“This is Hilary Vanworth. I’m the director of the art program at Carnegie Mellon University.”
I straighten and twirl a lock of my hair. “Oh, hello.”
“Good afternoon. I was wondering if you’d like to reschedule your interview with me?”
“Really? Um, yes, that’d be great. I can meet you wherever.”
“Would you be willing to travel to our school? It’s a distance, I know, but you could take a tour of the grounds. Personally, I always find seeing things in person so much better than on a screen or in a photo, you know?”
I nod. Then stop, because—doh! She can’t see me. “Yes. I agree.”
“Miss Issac, I must warn you now, I do not normally give second chances. You’ll be the first. Do not make me regret it. Talk with your parents and call me back with a date, and we’ll schedule a time. Does that sound fair?”
“Yes, Ms. Vanworth. Thank you.” We hang up, and I squeal!
I run out of my room, almost colliding with Sarah, but somehow sidestep her and hurry down the steps into the kitchen. My mom is at the stove stirring a pot of something delicious. I can’t pinpoint what it is, but my mouth is watering.
“I don’t know, Caitlyn,” my mom says into the phone. “She doesn’t want to visit. I can’t force her.” She smacks the spoon against the pot with such force I think it’s going to snap. “You know what? I’m about fed up with what you think I’m doing to her, Caitlyn. You’re damn straight she’s a part of me, and all you do is make me out to be a monster. I’m done. You can rot in prison for all I care. Don’t you dare call here again!”
I try to back out of the kitchen, but my mom spots me. She smoothes her hair back and smiles at me. “Hi, honey.”
“You okay, Mom?”
“I’m fine.” She sets the phone back on the charger and walks over to the stove. She picks up her spoon and starts stirring again. “So how was school? Besides the enormous bouquet you don’t want to talk about, that is.”
I pick up an apple from the fruit bowl in the middle of the kitchen table and take a bite. “It was okay. I’ve, uh …” I chew some more and then swallow. “I got a call from a professor at this school. It’s in Pennsylvania.”
“Uh-huh, that sounds nice,” she says.
“Mom, are you listening to me?”
She stops stirring. “Madison, I’m having a really rough day. The last thing I want to talk about is college.”
“That’s fine.” It’s really not. Lately, she hasn’t seemed happy for me about anything. I shake my head, grab my coat, and leave the house.
Normally, I’d sit on the porch or run, but I don’t want to. Instead, I lean over the railing and stare back at his tree house. Ugh. I shouldn’t, but it’s not like anyone will know I’m there. He’s not even home.
I rush across the lawn and head deep into his backyard. I climb the ladder and shut myself inside. Taking a seat on the floor and staying away from the windows, I look at the walls surrounding me. In the corner is a pile of envelopes. I crawl over to them and pick one up.
It’s addressed to me. In huge letters that start on one end, and the N in my name is close to the corner of the envelope. It’s sealed shut. I shouldn’t open it. But then again, it does have my name on it so it’s technically mine. Right?
Chapter Forty-One
Madison
I debate whether to open the envelope for a while, and then I close my eyes and tear into it. Removing a handmade card from the envelope, I read, “Will you?” on the outside. I open i
t up, and the inside says, “Be mine forever? Check box: Yes. No. Maybe.” The inner child in me giggles. My seventeen-year-old self raises a brow and asks, “Why would he ever put a maybe box? That’s hardly helpful.”
I reach for another envelope. As I snatch one up, I hear, “Yeah, I’ll be there tonight.”
Shit! That’s Bryce. I scan the area, and there’s literally nowhere to hide. So as the door starts to lift, I scurry over to it and slam my body on top.
“What the fuck? Let me call you back.”
If he uses both hands, he’ll knock me off. I know this. So I start pulling things to me. Like his box of CDs and his box of random crap, like yo-yos and baseballs and footballs. This still won’t be heavy enough. And I can’t stay up here forever. I just want to be up here until my dad gets home or Kyle—he’s supposed to get home for winter break today.
“Madison! Get the hell off the door!”
“No. Go away.”
I hear him growl. “It’s my fucking tree house.”
“Well, I’m using it.”
“I’m counting to ten, and then I’m busting in. If you get hurt, it’s your own fault.” I think he’s joking, but then he starts counting, “One, two, three …”
I push the boxes off the door and scurry into a corner. The door flies up and smacks the wall. Bryce shakes his head at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.”
“Really? You only hide in here when there’s something wrong. So what is it? Spit it out because I don’t have all day.”
“Where are you going? Hot date?”
His lips press into a grim line. “Something like that.”
My heart stops beating. My eyes begin to water, and I drop my gaze to my knees. “Oh. Well … um … okay.” I swallow back my shame. “I was just waiting for my dad to get home. My mom is in one of her moods. It’s nothing. I’ll, uh … leave.”
I start for the door, but Bryce grabs my hand and pulls me to him. He wraps his strong arms around me and breathes, “Why are you constantly running away from me?”
“You have a hot date.”
“Yes. I’m going to work on a 1969 Camaro.” I look up at him, and he smirks. “It’s a car, Smalls.”
“I know what it is! Why would … why would you have me thinking it was a girl?” I wipe my hands under my eyes, and he just smiles bigger.
“Because it is a girl. She’s cherry red. With a black interior.”
I punch him in the shoulder. “You know what I mean!”
“Are you jealous, firecracker?”
“Don’t call me names.”
He touches my jaw and then runs his hand through my hair. “I can’t call you ‘firecracker’? Or Smalls? What about beautiful? Or mine?”
“I’m not yours,” I mumble.
He kisses my mouth, and oh man, it feels amazing. His mouth on mine. I’ve missed this. I melt into his arms and press myself against him. I feel him through his jeans. I want him so bad.
I numbly work at the zipper on his coat. He pulls back slightly and asks me in a breathy tone, “What are you doing?”
“You. I need you.”
“Madison. We … should … talk.”
I nod and continue ripping off his coat. His lips are on my neck and work their way down. His hands bunch up the hem of my shirt and begin to lift in one fluid motion. I yank off his shirt and run my fingers along his muscles.
Bryce moans and pulls my hands away from his rockin’ abs. I begin to pout, but he nips my lower lip with his teeth. He draws back and pushes our clothes into a pile. As I’m beginning to wonder if maybe I’m taking this too far, he pulls the pins to the windows. Wooden slates of wood slam down, shielding the light and covering the tree house in darkness. Bryce lifts me and then lowers me down to the floor. He shuts the entrance door and flips the latch, locking us inside.
My eyes adjust to the darkness. His hands find me and continue to touch and grab my ass. He lifts my lower half and sheds the rest of my clothing. His hands move up my thighs, and he whispers, “I’m going to kiss every inch of you, and then I’m going to make love to you, Madison. But if anything gets too intense, you need to tell me to stop.”
“Okay.”
And, wow, does he deliver on his promise.
He lies beside me, stroking my hair as I rest my head on his chest. The reality comes crashing in all at once. “I had sex.”
“You were amazing,” he whispers as his lips brush against my temple.
What did I do? Oh my God. I sit up, a little self-conscious, and use my shirt to shield my nakedness.
“Mads, look at me.” I do. “Babe, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say in a shaky voice.
“You wish we hadn’t done it, don’t you?”
I shake my head. But really, I’m not sure. I mean, I loved it. It was with someone I loved. My only regret is that we’re not together. We’re not in a relationship. I feel like a horrible slut.
He sits up and pulls me to him. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”
“I’m fine,” I lie. I gather up my clothes and put them on quickly. He’s doing the same. But I’m pretty certain we’re hurrying to get clothes on for different reasons. I stand by the door and then throw it open.
Bryce stares at me. “You wanna talk about this before you go rushing off?”
“No. I have to get home. This was fun. Thanks.” Okay, I could officially high-five myself right in the face for that one. This was fun? Thanks? Jeez, it wasn’t a casual date. We had sex. He took my virginity, and I said thanks. Oh my God. I need to leave before I say anything else just as lame.
I’m halfway across the lawn when Bryce yells, “Madison! Wait up.”
I don’t. I start running and then fly into my house. Kyle hurls off the couch as I’m booking it up the stairs and into my room. “Where’s the fire, Maddy?”
“Fuck off!” I slam the door and curl up in a ball on my bed.
I hear knocking, and then my brother’s voice booming from downstairs. “Aren’t you out of school for three weeks? Why do you need to see my sister?”
I throw a pillow over my head in order to drown out the sounds of shouting. And then my door bursts open, and I sit straight up, hitting my head on the top bunk. “Ow! Son of a bitch!”
“Are you okay?” Bryce rushes over to me and cradles my face with his hands. My brother pulls him away from me.
“Don’t touch my sister, man! She’s fine.”
“Damn it, Kyle! She just smacked her head off a metal bar,” Bryce snaps. “Why don’t you go beat off in your room or something?”
Kyle pushes Bryce right into my desk. “Don’t fucking talk to my sister! She doesn’t need you hanging around her. You’ll just ruin her life.”
Bryce shoves him back and raises his fist. I knead my fingers into my scalp and scream, “Stop it! Just stop! Kyle, get out. Bryce, go to the shop and work on the car. We’ll talk later.”
“The hell you will!” Kyle yells at me.
“Kyle! Out!”
He glares at me and takes a seat at Sarah’s desk. Whatever. As long as he’s not shoving Bryce or yelling about idiotic crap.
Bryce takes a seat on my bed. He pulls me to him and starts examining the top of my head. “You got a small cut, Smalls. Take a shower, put some ice on it, and I’ll call you a little later.” He glances over at Kyle. “Make sure she doesn’t get dizzy.”
“Bite me, Doctor Fuck-up.”
Bryce looks back at me. “Are you feeling lightheaded or dizzy?”
“No.”
“Good.” He kisses my mouth, and my brother launches himself out of the chair and straight at Bryce. But Bryce stands, shoves Kyle out of the way, and leaves. Kyle follows. I lie back on my bed and think about what has transpired in the last two hours of my life. I got an interview to talk with the art director of a college I really believe I want to attend. I lost my virginity. And Bryce kissed me in front of Kyle, causing him to go bananas.
&
nbsp; My door slams shut, and Kyle stomps over to me. He takes a seat at my desk and just glares at me. “I thought I told you he’s bad news and to stay the hell away from him!”
“Kyle, I can see who I want.”
He points at me. “Not him! Jesus, have you lost your mind? He’s going to be in jail by the time you graduate. For what, who knows? But you don’t need to find out.”
“Who cares? Our family tree has jailbirds in it too. Or did you forget why my room has a bunk bed in it?”
“That’s not even funny, Maddy. I’m saying this to protect you. Look, guys like him, they prey on girls like you. Innocent, sweet girls, just like you. I’m telling you this for a reason. He’s only going to hurt you.”
I shake my head. “You don’t know him, Kyle.” But then again, neither do I.
Chapter Forty-Two
Bryce
I made love to Madison in my freaking tree house. Jesus. I’d give anything to take it back and choose a different, more romantic spot. But it’s too late. I don’t regret being with her at all; I just hope she’s not regretting anything. She just ran out of there like nothing ever happened. I know I’m going to sound like a chick for a second, but she better not pretend nothing went down between us.
As I’m driving to Hector’s, the body shop in town, the image of Madison lying underneath me takes over my thoughts. She was amazing. Tight as hell, so freaking wet, and just ready for me. Thinking about it is making me hard all over again. Damn it, I might have to take a quick break and rub one out in the bathroom when I get there. At least I’ve got some stellar images to jerk off to, like Madison’s face as she had an orgasm. Her eyes locked with mine wide and trusting, then she arched back and screamed my name. It was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen or heard. After our adventure in the tree house, I wanted to tell her I sent the roses. That was the plan. But she ran, and then Kyle was hovering like a vulture. Freaking asshole.
I pull up to the garage and hurry into the bathroom to relieve myself. Once I’m finished, I wash my hands, step out, and nod to Hector.
Bryce (Scandalous Boys #1) Page 19