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

by Angel Lawson

“My dad is really up in my business, too. It sucks.” Although I didn’t think he’d gone so far as to pay off Amber for dirt on me. I planned on asking her though.

  “So maybe if we do this, they’ll back off?”

  “Do what?”

  “Hang out together. Post a few photos—”

  “No!” I shouted, garnering a few looks. “Sorry, I just don’t do social media. Ever.”

  “Maybe just a few sent to our fathers? Let them see we made friends? Maybe they’ll ease up.”

  I eyed him skeptically. “What are your expectations? Because I’m not sleeping with you. Or kissing you.”

  He blinked. “Wow. Okay. That wasn’t my intention, Heaven. I think hanging out a few times on campus, and if they come to town, we can have dinner or something.”

  “No social media.”

  He held up his hand. “None. I promise.”

  “Okay, we can do a few things, but not a lot. I’m busy and I’m sure you are too. Next time my dad comes up we can have dinner.”

  He smiled wide, relieved. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  Noah held out his hand—offering it for me to shake. I’ve made deals like this before and they’ve gotten me nothing but trouble in return, yet I grasped it anyway, finding myself once again playing with fire.

  17

  Now that Noah and I had a plan, I knew it was time to tell the guys what was going on. The last thing I needed was for them to come across the two of us talking on campus and get protective.

  It was Friday night, the day after Anderson’s record-breaking swim meet and the party with Noah, and I was stuffed into a corner booth with the guys at The Griddle, a twenty-four-seven breakfast place.

  I sat in the middle, surrounded by my handsome, starving boyfriends as they inhaled plates of food. I had my own small stack of pancakes and a side of bacon, but seriously, these guys’ stomachs were bottomless pits.

  Oliver groaned, dropping his fork, leaning back to rub his belly. Jackson stabbed the last piece of sausage off his teammate’s plate. Hayden shoved in eggs and bacon because he’d recently gone low carb, and Anderson just ate everything in sight.

  “You want that?” he asked me, about the half of a pancake left on my plate.

  “No.”

  He picked it up with fingers and licked the syrup off with his tongue.

  Jesus.

  Invoking the son of God’s name reminded me of what I needed to tell them. “Okay, so I have something we need to talk about.”

  All eyes shifted to me and I squirmed a little in my seat.

  “First of all, I need you to listen and not react. Let me explain everything before you freak out.”

  “Wait? I need to be prepared to freak out?” Jackson asked. “What am I freaking out about?”

  “I swear on my mother’s life, I didn’t do anything,” Hayden said.

  “You’re not freaking out,” I said. “That’s the whole point.”

  “Let Heaven talk,” Oliver said, rolling his eyes. “Lay it on us.”

  I smiled at him gratefully and took a deep, steadying breath. “You know my dad is a bit…controlling.”

  “Shady as fuck,” Hayden muttered under his breath.

  “And shady as fuck,” I agreed. “Last night he asked me to run an errand for him. It wasn’t exactly an errand—he wanted me to go meet someone. At a party.”

  Anderson lowered his fork. “At the church thing?”

  “Meet who?” Hayden added. His shoulders hunched.

  “No freaking out,” I reminded them.

  Hayden blinked. Oliver sat up in his seat and Jackson rubbed his chin. Anderson? Well he worked his jaw so hard I thought it may snap.

  “His name is Noah and he seems fine. Both of our dads are worried about our social standing and want us to hang out together.”

  “Hang out?” Hayden asked. “Is that code for sex?”

  “Dammit,” Oliver said, punching Hayden in the shoulder. “I can’t believe you just asked her that! It was a church thing, for Christ’s sake.”

  “I’m just trying to figure it out!”

  I sighed and rubbed my head. “Stop it. Noah is kind of a nerd who isn’t into all this religion stuff as much as his dad wants him to be. Like me. We’re both in a bind and we agreed that we could help each other out by being friends.”

  Hayden snorted.

  “Of course he wants to be friends. You’re fucking hot,” Jackson declared. “Who wouldn’t want to be seen with you?”

  My cheeks heated at his compliment. “I told him no social media, no kissing, and absolutely no sex. Of any kind.”

  “No touching at all,” Oliver added. Then he looked guilty for bossing me. “Sorry. I got carried away. Heaven, I trust you. If you feel like this is something you need to do to keep things on good terms with your father, I get it.”

  “Thank you. I really think if I play along, maybe my dad will get the funding from Noah’s father and he’ll back off on some of the other stuff.” I looked around the table. “It sounds like Noah’s dad is even worse. He pays his roommates to spy on him.”

  Jackson’s jaw dropped. “Wow. That’s third-level psycho. Are you sure this is safe?”

  “I think it will be fine but look, I’ll give you or Amber my location all the time if I’m with him. Full transparency with you guys.”

  “Did you tell him about us?” Anderson asked.

  “I haven’t told anyone about you,” I confessed. “Although Samantha has her suspicions. I just don’t want my dad to mess up what we’ve got. He’s holding all the strings right now.”

  I could tell that didn’t go over well with the guys, but what else could I say. I was trying to be truthful and that was the truth. My father had his thumb on me.

  Hayden slung his arm over my shoulder and pulled me in close. “You know we just want you to be safe, right? That more than anything else.”

  I nodded and kept on a brave face. “I’m fine. This guy…he’s pretty harmless.”

  “Yeah, that’s what we thought about Spencer,” Oliver said quietly. Spencer did seem pretty benign until we found out he was the one stalking and harassing me my senior year. I didn’t fully appreciate how dangerous he was until he tried to attack me at the winter formal. A rock settled in my stomach at the memory.

  “He’s not Spencer. And nothing is going to happen. We’ll get through the next few weeks and then I’ll tell my dad it’s just not working and move on, okay?”

  They all nodded, well, everyone but Anderson, who looked like he may stab the table with the fork he continued to grip like a weapon in his hand.

  “A few weeks,” he finally said. “But after that, we have to come up with something else. This is too hard on you and too hard on us. Deal?”

  I held his eyes, green and unforgiving. He was right. This was only a short-term game—nothing longer. I nodded in agreement. “Deal.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” I said, holding the phone between the crook of my neck and chin, “Noah was really nice. We hung out at the party and plan on spending some more time together.”

  “That’s good to hear, Heaven. I know his father’s been worried about him.”

  I had an overflowing laundry basket in my hands and I leaned against the wall to catch my breath. “I’m not sure why. Has lots of friends and seems pretty nice. What’s there to be worried about?”

  “Success is measured in different ways, Heaven. It’s a man’s world—don’t worry about the little things.”

  I dropped the basket on the floor with a loud thump. “Excuse me?”

  “I said it’s a man’s world—you just need to find your role in it. I knew the minute I saw how beautiful you’d become that you’d be a good asset to my mission at the church. God blesses us in many ways.”

  “Dad,” I said, trying to keep my cool, “women aren’t considered an asset and it most certainly isn’t only a man’s world. I know you’ve been,” I swallow back my rage, “away and that you grew up in a pretty conse
rvative environment, but women can do anything a man can do, you know that, right?”

  “Sure, honey,” he said unconvincingly. “Who knew you’d turn into such a spit-ball? When I left you were so quiet and meek. Your mother told me you struggled and I wasn’t sure if you’d get out of that frame of mind, but I can see that you’re different now. I like it. I bet Noah will like it, too.”

  I fought back a groan and picked up my basket, relieved Amber walked through the door so I could go through.

  “Look Daddy, I’m going to do laundry. I should go.”

  “Okay sweetheart, you take care of yourself. I’ll be in touch.”

  I hung up the phone and muttered a few choice words under my breath.

  “Your dad?” she asked.

  “How did you know?”

  “You get this little wrinkle between your eyes when he calls.”

  I mounted the basket on my hip and rubbed the spot with my finger. “Great, now he’ll give me wrinkles as well as a complex.”

  “A complex about what?”

  Oh hell no would I tell Amber about my father’s ideas about women, she’d lose her shit and confront him. We’d both have to drop out of school. See? Strings. “Never mind.”

  She frowned but let it go. “What’s this? You’ve got a big night doing laundry, huh?”

  “Actually, I have a date. A laundry date.”

  “Oh yeah? With who?”

  I smiled. “Hayden.”

  “Hayden does laundry? I’d pay to see that.”

  “Right? I don’t think he’s actually bringing laundry. He asked me to pose for his drawing class and this is the only free time I have.”

  She smirked. “He wants to draw you? That’s pretty sexy.”

  It was sexy. I’d seen Hayden’s work before—even drawings of me—but watching him do it? A chill ran down my spine. “Yep. Sexy.”

  Amber opened the door to the community laundry facility in the basement of our building. “Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  I frowned. “In the laundry room?”

  She smiled wickedly. “You never know.”

  18

  Hayden

  After the insanity of the week, finding a time to see Heaven and get my homework done seemed like a constant struggle. Every encounter with her was too brief. Our lives were all chaotic and with the addition of this Noah kid, he would only take up more time.

  That was why, when Heaven said she had to do laundry, I took the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. I packed up my art supplies and headed over to Stetson Hall.

  The girls’ dorm was a world apart from athletic housing. It smelled like perfume and shampoo instead of feet and old cheese.

  “Can you direct me to the laundry room?” I asked a tiny girl with glasses. She pointed to a door down the hall. Her eyes were wide at my sheer size.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Sure,” she squeaked.

  I pushed open the basement door and jogged down the stairs, stopping when I caught sight of my girl, bending over the washing machine.

  Have mercy.

  I watched her for a moment, eyeing her ass in a form-fitting pair of gray and black leggings. They fit tight over every inch of her hips and thighs, leaving zero question about the thong panties she wore underneath. She wore a red tank, with cut-outs and ties at the shoulders. Her hair was bound in a knot behind her head. She was damn sexy and I thought about her all the time. All. The. Fucking. Time. Not a day went by that I didn’t kick my own ass for giving up the chance to make love to her in my room that night. A night I sorely regret. I’d only pissed her off and cockblocked myself, but even now I knew that wasn’t the right time or place. We were still percolating. Building this relationship slowly.

  The tightening in my jeans told me our dance was running out, though. I didn’t know how much longer I could hold out. Not when she wanted it so badly, too.

  “Hey,” I said, taking the last few steps and walking across the room. We were alone and I didn’t hesitate before closing the gap and pushing a hand into her silky hair.

  “Hi.”

  I leaned over and kissed her softly—twice—taking my time. She sucked on my bottom lip, encouraging me, and I kissed her again, this time little harder. She pressed her hands into my chest, surely able to feel my hammering heart.

  “Don’t you have a drawing to get started on?” she asked in a breathy tone.

  I licked my lips, tasting her. “Look at you, cracking the whip.”

  Her eyes carried a devilish glint and she ran her fingers through the shaggy hair hanging in my eyes and skimmed my jaw. “Get to work and maybe I’ll reward you later.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I moved to the table used for folding clothes and opened my kit, spreading my pencils, erasers, and charcoal in an orderly row. I took out a large sketchbook and laid it on the table, flipping to a fresh, blank sheet.

  “Where do you want me?” she asked.

  On this fucking table, I almost said. On the floor. Bent over the washer—Jesus. I cut the internal monologue. “Do you mind standing?”

  “No, I can do that, although I can’t guarantee it won’t be awkward.”

  I laughed, because her awkwardness was what made her so endearing. She was small but full of a graceful passion. When I was around her I felt like a brute. Too big and powerful. Massive in a way the other guys weren’t. All muscle where they were mostly lean. I needed the hard-packed bulk to dominate the soccer goal. But with her it just made me nervous. What if I hurt her? I was used to fending off six-foot forwards, not hundred-pound sexy girls I could crush with my hands.

  I made her nervous, I always had. My presence was what kept me at a higher station from the rest of the school, from the members of my team. But Heaven? She knocked me to my knees.

  “I’d like to do a full body pose,” I said. “Here.” I grabbed her shoulders and shuffled us over to the old, mustard yellow washing machine. “Like this, I think.”

  “You want me cleaning? You may be more like my father than I knew.”

  “Trust me, sweetheart,” I said in a low voice. “I’m not your daddy.”

  I pushed her against the machine, manipulating her hands so they were flat on the top and then shifted her shoulders so they were slightly to the side. “Lift your chin.”

  She followed direction, catching my eyes. I used my finger to tilt her to the left then right, until Heaven was ultimately looking slightly over her shoulder. I reached for her hair, unraveling it and combing it into a long sheet down her back. “Tell me if you get tired.”

  “I will,” she said. I couldn’t help but stop and stare at her. “What? Do I need to move?”

  “Nope. I’m just thinking about how fucking beautiful you are.”

  Her cheeks flamed red and I wanted to kiss her so badly.

  Instead, I moved just out of her line of vision and hopped up on the work table. I crossed my legs and placed the sketchbook on my lap. Choosing a stick of charcoal, I sketched an outline of the scene; the wall, the machine, Heaven standing in the foreground. The machine vibrated under her hands, making her hair shiver, and the only sound in the room was the whirring of the washer and the stroke of the charcoal.

  After a while, the rhythm of the machine seemed to lull Heaven into a quiet trance and the moment shifted, charging with intimacy. It was different than any other we’d had. The rest of the campus was out and about on a Saturday night like they should be, but here we were, alone in the laundry room.

  “I remember the first time I saw you,” I said suddenly.

  “When was that?” Her neck craned but she forced herself to stay in position.

  “Not as early as the others,” I admitted. “I mean, I remember you transferring in middle school, but you weren’t on my radar back then. I was mostly about food, sports, and video games back then. I don’t think we had any classes together and you were just this girl Anderson wouldn’t stop bitching about.”

&n
bsp; She laughed.

  “Jackson had his eye on you for years. He always had his eye on the hot girls. Oliver knew you from class. But I was out of the loop. Self-absorbed and not paying attention, until one day I only vaguely knew who you were and then all of a sudden you were just there. Occupying way more mental real estate than I knew existed.”

  “What got your attention? The thigh-high boots or the school-girl plaid skirt?”

  I laughed. She knew me well. I never paid her a bit of attention until she amped up her slutty clothing game. Not because I was into sluts, but there something about her—about her attitude, her style. I couldn’t look away. Just like right now.

  That was the thing about Heaven—the most normal moments became tense and filled with desire. The grasp of control I had when it came to her was wearing thin.

  I wanted Heaven so badly. I wanted every part of her, but I wasn’t a gentleman like Anderson. Or kind and careful like Oliver. I wasn’t even a horny bastard like Jackson who could smile and make everyone feel special.

  I was filled with testosterone, aggression, and pure passion. I worked, played, and loved hard, and I’d held back for so long that I didn’t know what would happen if I allowed myself to cross the line.

  I waited a beat—two, telling myself to keep away—maintaining my distance. This was not the time and definitely not the place. Heaven stood frozen against that machine, her tits bouncing slightly with the vibration of the machine. I could handle it. I was handling it until she tilted her head in my direction and licked those pink, puffy lips and there was no doubt in my mind it was an invitation.

  And I was out of fucks to give.

  Every. Damn. One.

  19

  I heard him slide off the table and walk over. I didn’t move an inch. “It was that fucking skirt,” he said. “That day in the garden. I knew Oliver and the others had plans to protect you from those douchebags at school. I was down for that, but that day when you came out in the courtyard, red-cheeked and upset. Damnit. I knew right then what all the fuss was about.”