Holding On To Heaven: A Reverse Harem Contemporary Romance (The Allendale Four Book 2)

by Angel Lawson

  He reached for me under the water. It cooled my overheated skin. “I love you, Heaven Reeves.”

  “I love you too, Jackson Hall. But if I get bitten by a snake, it’s your fault.”

  He pulled me into a kiss and I realized that he was probably right.

  A swim really did make it better.

  10

  Jackson

  I thought I’d feel guilty.

  I thought she’d want me to stop.

  I thought that crossing that line between love and lust was definitive. Two different, unique things. Things that you didn’t do with someone you respected and loved.

  You didn’t take them to the edge of a ball park and screw them on a floating dock, until you did, and that’s when you realized, well, I realized that the line was blurry and dammit, freaking amazing.

  I didn’t enter my relationship with Heaven a virgin, but before her I’d never been in love. Not outside myself, my family, and my brothers. I was a player. Elusive. Handsome and charming. I knew it. The girls back home knew it and no one begrudged it.

  All of that stopped the minute Heaven came into our lives. Stopped cold.

  That girl…she’d been barreling down the tracks with me before she sat on my lap and dry-humped me into oblivion all those months ago. I came so. Fucking. Hard, and the craziest thing was that it was enough. It was. I didn’t have to claim her body. I had her heart.

  But then we had that talk—the laying it on the line talk—about her needs and wants and desires. Not treating her like a fragile child. She was right, but the stuff she went through…it wasn’t okay. Oliver fucking cried the day he told us about walking in on her with those blades. How he barely made it there in time to stop her.

  We swore then to treat her with kid gloves.

  Well, I just took off the fucking gloves.

  I walked across campus the next day trying to hold back my swagger—the I-just-made-love-to-a-beautiful-woman swagger. Buuuut, it was impossible and when Anderson saw me coming, he raised an eyebrow.

  “What’s going on?” he asked. We waited here for Heaven before their class and suddenly nerves shot through me. What if she had regrets? What if I read the situation wrong?

  And like that, I deflated.

  In a low voice I said, “I took Heaven for a ride last night—she needed a break after seeing her dad.”

  “How did that go? I know she was nervous.”

  I shrugged. “Not great? Not awful? I think she wanted to blow off some steam.”

  We didn’t ask. That was the deal—part of the Don’t Treat Heaven Like an Object arrangement. We didn’t discuss our sex lives with one another.

  Anderson and I stood in a moment of awkward silence.

  I cleared my throat. “We made some progress…on her request.”

  He nodded. “And everything went okay.”

  “Yeah. Like, fantastic, but…”

  His eyes narrowed. “But what?” There was a threat in his tone.

  “But nothing, swear. Jesus, Anderson, I treated her right. You know that.”

  He relaxed and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I know. You said ‘but’.”

  “What if what seemed okay last night in the dark isn’t okay today in the daylight?”

  “Did you respect her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you get consent?”

  “Of course.” I wasn’t an animal.

  “Did you give her a choice? A chance to you know…participate?”

  I thought about her on my lap, sinking down on my cock. I cleared my throat and shifted. “Yes, without a doubt.”

  “Then you’re fine.” He said with relief. “It was probably exactly what she wanted.”

  I stared at my shoes, hoping he was right. If I ruined it—or hurt her—or made her second guess herself in any way, I’d never forgive myself.

  Anderson grew quiet, eyes cast across the student center. I brushed my hair out of my face and turned, seeing her for the first time since last night. She was gorgeous, red-cheeked with a small smile playing on her lips.

  “Yeah,” Anderson said. “I think you’re fine.”

  I watched her come our way, hips swaying, and corrected him in my mind; we’re fine.

  11

  Heaven

  In high school, I wondered if virgins walked differently than women who’d had sex. It was back when I was trying to figure out how to pretend I wasn’t one. I was sure the more-experienced girls had a particular swagger. I don’t think I had a swagger as much as a strut. And although I lost my virginity to Anderson some time ago, I definitely felt a different spring to my step when I saw Jackson the following day on campus.

  I spotted him before he noticed me and I took a minute outside the crowded student center to check him and Anderson out. I’d had sex with both of them—and planned to do it again. There was no loss of one to gain of the other—that was one of the perks of our specific kind of relationship. Sure, there were a lot of stressors balancing (and hiding) four guys, but experiencing the intimacy with them all was definitely not one of them.

  Anderson noticed me first, raising a hand to get my attention. Jackson turned a beat slower, hair flopping into his eyes, although that doesn’t stop him from checking me out, head to toe.

  My cheeks heated, thinking about his lips and what they’d done to me the night before—how he’d explored me more thoroughly than anyone had ever before.

  He licked his lips in memory and yeah, my walk was different. No doubt about that. It was one part eager, two parts confidence. Yeah, I felt confident knowing what we’d done and how I’d pleased him. I swallowed back the pride of seeing the way his jaw tensed when he came, and the weight of his arm over my shoulder as he walked me back to the car.

  Yep, people who experienced that walked, talked, and felt different.

  “Hey,” I said. It sucked keeping my distance in public like this.

  “We were just talking about Anderson’s swim meet later this week against State. Think you can come?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it.” Watching Anderson swim was like a gift from the gods. I turned to Jackson. “Thanks for hanging out with me last night.”

  “Anytime.” He looked at the time. “Shit, gotta run. My stupid English Lit class is on the other side of campus.”

  “Later,” Anderson said, giving him some kind of bro fist bump.

  “Bye,” he said to us both, tugging on the back of my shirt as he jogged off.

  “Y’all hung out last night?” Anderson asked as we moved in the direction of our biology class. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I just needed to blow off some steam after dinner with my dad.”

  He nodded. “How did that go?”

  “About as good as expected.” We walked into class and took our seats. The professor wasn’t there yet. “Oh, check this out, he brought up you guys—he thought I made a smart move by bringing you in last year during all the harassment.”

  “A smart move?” He took out his laptop. “Who talks like that?”

  I laughed. “My dad. I told you—he’s in a world of his own.”

  “So he’s okay with you hanging out with us, then?”

  I grimaced. “Eh, not so much. He thinks I need to broaden my circle at college.” Anderson frowned and tapped his fingers on the desk. I laid my hand on his knee. “Hey, you know that’s not how I feel, right? My dad is an opportunist, and right now he’s worried about how my reputation will affect his paycheck. He doesn’t think in genuine relationships but in how things benefit him.”

  “I know,” he replied. He looked up and I saw my suitemate, Ruthie, watching us from across the room. I gave her a friendly smile and tried to discretely remove my hand from his leg. “I think I’m just overwhelmed with everything you know? I hate not being able to see you all the time.”

  “Dude, we have class three times a week together. I’m coming to your swim meet this week.” I lowered my voice. “I have a feeling we can snag some privat
e time before then, too.”

  His pupils dilated at the suggestion and he coughed, covering his mouth with his fist. “Actually, I thought maybe you’d want to do me a favor and help me study for the quiz on Friday.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You know favors are what got me into a heap of trouble last year, right?”

  He laughed. “A heap of trouble that brought me a lot of personal pleasure.” He looks at the door just as the professor walks in. I get out my own laptop.

  Anderson shifted his attention to the podium but he took out a small piece of paper and scribbled on it and passed it to me.

  My meet is Thursday night and I have an approved practice that means I’ll miss this class that day. Can you come over before the meet and bring me the notes?

  Sure.

  He replied back with a smiley face and I rolled my eyes, tucking the paper in my laptop back with the others we’d written so far this semester. With so many things changing in my life, the little things, like notes from Anderson and study dates, made everything feel a little bit more normal.

  Amber and I were sprawled across the couch in the living room of our suite, binge-watching TV, when Ruthie and Samantha walked in laughing. They cut it short when they saw us and Ruthie pulled a couple of packages with trendy shop names to her chest.

  “Ooh,” Amber said. “Did you go on a shopping spree?”

  The Ruthie and Samantha exchanged a look before she replied, “They were having a sale downtown. You know, clearing out for fall.”

  “Let’s see,” I said, sitting up.

  She flashed two sweaters, one made of the softest-looking material ever. “Those were on sale?” Amber asked.

  “Yeah.” Her eyes slid to Samantha’s. “But I think I got the last one.”

  She shoved it back in the bag and the two girls disappeared into their room, shutting the door behind them.

  “Was that weird?” I asked, reaching for the bag of chips on the table. “It seemed weird.”

  “Definitely weird,” Amber agreed. “Maybe she’s one of those girls that doesn’t want other people wearing what she’s wearing.”

  “You mean, petty.”

  She shrugged. “If the shoe fits.”

  “God, I hate mean girls. So pathetic.”

  “I know you do. Me too. And it gives me an idea.” A wicked grin spread across her lips. “We should go buy the same sweaters and wear them around all the time just to make her mad.”

  I snort-laughed and covered my mouth with my hand. “Dude, you’re a feminist—being mean to other women isn’t cool.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re the queen of tit-for-tat, Heaven. Turn-about is fair play and all that. I just think that sometimes women who want to take down other women should be taken down a notch.”

  “You’re ridiculous.” My phone rang and I glanced at the screen. “Ugh. It’s my dad.”

  “Ignore it.”

  It continued to buzz. “He’ll just keep calling.”

  “Hey, Dad.” I walked into the bedroom and shut the door for privacy.

  “Sweetheart, how are you today?”

  “Good.” I waited for a beat, not wanting to share anything else. “What’s going on?”

  “There’s an event I need you to attend.”

  “What kind of event?”

  “Just a college thing. A social at the University Community Church. The young man I told you about will be there.”

  Ugh, a church thing? I didn’t know how to respond.

  “Noah has extended an invite to you as a favor to me. I’d like you to go and meet him.”

  “You want me to go on a date?”

  “No, honey.” I could hear the irritation in his voice. “I want you to go to a party. Have a little fun and while you’re there, do me a favor by being nice to the son of a prospective church member.” He took a steadying breath. “I’d really appreciate it if you could take the time to do this for me. It would help me out a lot. You know I’ve just come back and any extra effort goes a long way.”

  I still didn’t know what my father was doing—recruiting a church member so hard seemed weird. I had to suspect the family must be loaded. My father was paying my tuition and if his job depended on him—or me—playing nice with this guy, then I didn’t have much choice.

  “Okay, I can do that. What’s his name?”

  “Noah Hancock.”

  “Okay. And he knows I’m coming?”

  “Yes. He’s going to send you the details.”

  I glanced at myself in the mirror and at the way I held the phone, knuckles white. Socializing like this wasn’t something I was used to—my dad didn’t get that. He just saw the photos of me as Winter Princess and that I had friends at my graduation party. He didn’t know I spent the prior six months as a pariah or the seven years before that as an invisible nerd.

  “Heaven?”

  “Yes, Daddy?”

  “I know you’re nervous, but whatever you did to get the attention of those boys back in Allendale is what you should remember. That’s all it is—getting a little attention. I have no doubt you can do it.”

  I hung up the phone and walked over to the mirror. I pushed my hair behind my ear and kept my eyes away from the largest of the scars on my arm. He was right, if there was one thing I knew how to do, it was to get attention. The problem was dealing with the consequences.

  12

  The next day was bright and warm and it didn’t take much for Oliver and Jackson to lure me down to the baseball field to watch them practice. The field was adjacent to the athletic complex and it wasn’t uncommon for people to run or walk around the track during warm-ups or find a spot in the bleachers to study.

  That being said, spotting my suitemate Samantha on the warm, metal steps was a surprise.

  “Heaven?” she called before I could make my escape.

  “Oh, hi.” I looked around. “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, to be honest I came out to watch your friend Oliver practice.” She blushed. “I hope that’s cool.”

  Uh, no. Not cool, Samantha. Definitely not cool.

  “Oliver?”

  She wrinkled her nose and pushed her long hair over her shoulder. “I overheard you tell Jackson you would come watch and I figured Oliver would be here too.” Her eyes skimmed the field. Both guys were on the green lawn. They had on their practice uniforms. Tight gray pants, fitted T-shirts with the University’s mascot across the front. They both wore caps; Oliver’s low over his eyes and Jackson’s turned backwards. My stomach fluttered at the sight of them.

  “He’s super-hot,” she said, never taking her eyes off of him. “And really nice. He helped me carry a box up from the post office the other day.”

  When he came to see me, I wanted to add.

  I’d admitted to my suitemates that I was dating Jackson—casually. And that I’d gone out with Anderson a few times as well. They seemed to accept that. Hayden and Oliver were harder to explain. The guys were around one another all the time and just like back at home, incredibly visible and noticeable. Four hot-as-hell best friends was a little impossible not to notice, even on a large campus. And me as the girl that hung out with them wasn’t really a big deal. But pushing it beyond that was something I wasn’t comfortable with. I glanced down to the field and Oliver looked up, catching my eye. He winked before throwing the ball with incredible force. I had the distinct urge to mark my territory.

  “Oh my god, he winked at you! You are so lucky to have him as a friend.”

  “He’s pretty amazing,” I agreed. She shifted next to me, stretching out her long, thin legs. My eyes traveled up her arms, to the smooth skin, unmarred by scars or physical damage. Her eyes bright, unencumbered with a dark past.

  Maybe Oliver deserved someone like Samantha? Maybe they should all get a chance to sow their wild oats, experience other girls—normal girls.

  “Tell me something about him,” she said. “What does he like? What’s he into?”

  Me.


  He was into me, I wanted to tell her. He liked having his earlobe nibbled and he was the best snuggler. He treated me like a queen and was a really good listener. His cock was huge—like seriously—it was one of the reasons I hadn’t had sex with him yet. I saw it and panicked, but I know when the time comes he’d be gentle and we’d have amazing fun.

  “Guys,” I blurted. “He’s into guys.” I made a face. “Sorry.”

  “Oh, what? Really?” She narrowed her eyes and studied him as though this would clear things up. “I thought you said he had a girlfriend back home?”

  “I lied. I’m a total asshole. Just…I don’t think he’s into dating right now. He’s super into baseball.” Again, he looked up in the stands. I waved, feeling only the slightest bit of guilt.

  “Bummer,” she said, gathering her things. “I guess I’ll head back and see what Ruthie’s doing for dinner.”

  “I’m sure I’ll see you later.” I try to keep the smugness down a little, because I’d totally just pulled a bitch move.

  She looked down on the bleacher next to me. “You got a text.”

  I picked it up. “Thanks.”

  She walked off, probably licking her wounds at losing out on a truly fantastic guy. Too bad he was already taken. Once she left I read the text.

  Heaven! It’s Noah Hancock. My father gave me your number. It seems we’ve been set up by the FTB (Fathers that Be--you know, instead of PTB) for a casual hang out at my at the UCC on Thursday. Although it’s an awkward set-up I would really like for you to come. It’s a kick-off party for the big game on Saturday so wear your team colors—and bring a friend!

  Party starts at nine!

  P.S. Love your name

  Thursday night? Shit. Anderson’s swim meet was that night. Surely I’d be over by nine. I typed out a quick response.

  Noah,

  The FTB really want us to meet up, eh? I figured I could do this one little favor—how bad could a party be? I’ll be there around 9 dressed in red.

  Heaven