by Nora Cobb
I fight to stay awake, but I can’t and I slip into a fitful sleep.
CHAPTER 12
LUCAS
Walking into the bedroom, I see Natalie unconscious and stretched out across the bed. She’s lying on top of the mattress with the hem of her dress hiked up to her waist, and her pink lace panties are showing. Glaring at Jacob, he looks away from her partially clothed body as I pull down the hem of her long dress and find a sheet to cover her.
“She’s out cold,” says Jacob after he closes the door. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a joint.
Fuck, I could use a hit from that right now.
“She wasn’t like this earlier.” I do my best to keep my voice even.
“I had nothing to do with this. Talk to your boy Troy.”
“Where is he now?”
“He’s across the hall, probably hitting on your other girlfriend.”
Curling my lips, I stare at Jacob, but his dark eyes are harder and colder than mine. He’s a fucking mess, but we all are. I look away first.
“Do you like her?” Jacob wants to know this for what reason? He takes a long drag, then hands me the joint, balancing it on his fingertips. “Natalie, I mean.”
“I’m with Arielle.” I take a hit and pass it back to him.
“That’s not what I asked.” Jacob clears his throat. Then he turns to open the door.
I reach up and grab his hand. “What are you doing?” I ask.
Jacob lets out a rude laugh. “Being a fucking gentleman, you dick. Watch and learn, Romeo. I promised her a ride home, and I’m making sure she gets back in the same condition she arrived in.” He glances over his shoulder at her prone body, “Or close to it.”
I would insist on staying with Natalie, but Arielle is manic. She’s demanding phones and deleting pictures before anyone can leave the loft. If I stay with Natalie tonight, something will happen, and for now, I’ve screwed up enough. I thought Arielle was in the bathroom getting high, but I should have known she’d come looking for me and find me kissing Natalie.
“You should leave, Lucas.” Jacob stubs out the joint and tosses the roach at me.
My gaze passes over Natalie’s slim body under the sheet. Her shiny hair is spread out over the pillow and her soft red lips part as she breathes. I want to taste her lips again. My cock starts to rise as I think about jerking off to my memories of her soft body. I wanted to touch her tonight. That was the plan.
“I said, get out, Lucas.” Jacob rises to a menacing stance. “I’m passing calculus, and my dad is off my fucking back. So I’m looking out for my tutor. Besides, Arielle is scaring me and that’s saying something.”
I slam the door and return to the party.
CHAPTER 13
Monday morning, I stay in bed because I can’t face going to Montlake today. Uncle Phil calls the school before leaving for work to say that I’m sick. He doesn’t mention the reason why, because I don’t tell him the truth. I let him assume it’s from partying. I don’t want to talk about any of it.
“You’re going back to school tomorrow?” Phil speaks sternly as he stands in the bedroom doorway.
It ends as a question, though it isn’t. I’m starting to notice the differences between old money and new. So I’m getting an education at Montlake after all.
“Yes,” I reply curtly, though I shouldn’t. It’s hard to learn one’s place when someone else is deciding where that place is.
I wrap myself up in my lavender down comforter and stare at the tops of the trees outside my bedroom window. My mind drifts into a mental rabbit hole as I try to not blame myself for what happened. I should have known not to trust any of them, but I foolishly did. Shutting out the day, I pull the covers over my head until it’s too hot to breathe.
Panting, I fling them off, and my skin is covered with a light sheen of perspiration. Listlessly lying in my bed reminds me of lying there helpless at the party, and I force myself to get up. I’m drained like I swam from Jersey to New York and back again. I don’t remember getting into Jacob’s car or the ride back to Montlake. I wonder what Jacob said to Phil when he brought me home? My stomach gurgles, and I hope I wasn’t sick in Jacob’s car. Worse than that, I missed lunch with Anthony yesterday.
Letting out a loud moan, I roll out of bed onto the floor, landing on my feet. The roofie wore off late yesterday, but the twist in my stomach remains. The cold bathroom tiles under my feet make my body tense, but I’m animated by the shock. The bathroom in my room is smaller than the larger one down the hall, but this is private. It has a shower across the back wall, a sink with a vanity, and a toilet all in white with slate-gray walls and floor tiles. It’s chic like a hotel, and maybe it’s another reason why I don’t feel at home here.
I get a shock when I look in the vanity mirror. No wonder Phil didn’t question me when I complained about my woozy stomach. My tangled hair is flying in all directions, my skin is washed out, and I sort of stink. Dropping my robe on the floor, I jump into the shower. When I’m finished scrubbing myself clean, I slip on black flannel bottoms, a lemon tank top, and a thick robe in turquoise. Nothing matches and I like being my old broke self again.
It’s hard not to think about what happened. What would have happened if Jacob hadn’t stopped Troy. The guys thought I was out cold, but I wasn’t. I was in and out of consciousness while the drug weighed me down across the bed. I couldn’t move my limbs for anything, but I heard their conversation, and that was the scariest part. A chill runs down the back of my neck, and I pull my robe tighter around me. That nauseous feeling won’t go away.
Troy never speaks to me when we’re alone at the lunch table. Never makes a comment or calls me names, because Troy doesn’t have to say it. His look of distaste speaks louder than words. He looks at me as if I’m a bug that crawled out of the kitchen and scurried across his feet. When Troy’s at the first table, I always head for the next one. Sometimes, I feel his cold blue eyes assessing me. And when I turn my head to catch him staring, Troy doesn’t look away. Instead, his hard eyes sweep up and down my body, and slowly, his lip curls into a wicked grin before he snubs me again. With his blond highlights and lean but built frame, he’s attractive. But looks are deceiving because that boy is cold-hearted evil. The thought of him makes me shiver again.
I won’t tell Phil what happened at the party; I’ll play it off. I admitted to drinking and promised I wouldn’t do it again. His lack of parenting expertise bought me some time, but I could tell by his pissed expression that it better not be repeated. Phil’s been kind, but we’re pacing around each other, and he’s way too polite to be a real parent. Mom and Dad would have grounded me until we forgot what I had been grounded for.
My phone hasn’t buzzed all day except for a text from Beth. Lucas doesn’t reply when I let him know I’m not going to school. I want to make sure he won’t come to the house. Staring at my phone, I don’t want to call Anthony, but sending another sorry text is lame. I have to call. The display flashes noon, so I take a deep breath and hit send before I blow him off again.
“Yeah.” His tone is icy, but what do I expect?
“Hey, Anthony,” I sound overly cheerful to make up for it. “Are you at lunch?”
“Yeah,” he says. Of course he’s at lunch. The phone is silent, and I check the screen to see if we’re connected. Anthony’s not saying much. It’s hard to apologize when the other person is hell-bent on staying pissed. I did text him. Granted, it was two hours after we were supposed to have met at Village Coffee. I feel a sick feeling start again as my stomach rocks from nerves. Taking a deep breath, I face the sucky situation.
“Anthony, I’m really sorry about yesterday,” I explain in quick breaths. “I’m not used to drinking, and I drank too much. They didn’t have cheap beer there,” I say nervously. “You know what those parties are like. My head hurt so bad when I woke up the next day. I should have made plans for another day.”
My rambling excuses avoid mentioning the roofies, and I present
the situation as if I’m wearing rosy glasses. For some reason, I don’t want to go extremely deep into it. If I tell Anthony, Beth will know, or at least, he’ll coax me to tell her. And she will go off like a wild banshee sent to avenge me. The whole school will know my business. I can tolerate the lies, but I don’t want my business being shared. This is bad enough. The thought of it makes me breathe harder.
“Are you still there?” I ask.
He sighs into the phone. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“Finally, a sentence.” I chuckle tensely, but he doesn’t return the laugh. “Look, I’ll let you go.” I can barely hide the hurt in my voice. “Maybe we can go out another time.”
“Sure.”
Instantly, the screen goes blank as if Anthony had his finger on end.
I messed up with him, but how would he act if something truly awful had happened? Would he be like this? I don’t need a guy who won’t talk to me when there’s a problem. Anthony is supposed to be my friend, but we also kissed. Thoughts fly into my head of another guy who kissed me, and my tears turn into anger.
Lashing out at the messenger, I throw my phone onto the bed. Lucas is never giving up Arielle, and I refuse to be a sidepiece.
Moaning in frustration, I leave my bedroom and creep downstairs, hoping the staff isn’t around. This house is too large. I can’t be sure when I’m alone. I almost leapt ten feet in the air the first time I ran into Phil’s cook. Calling out softly, no one responds as I creep down the hallway toward the kitchen.
I reach into the fridge for the orange juice. Phil had the cook write my name on it since I insist on not using a glass. The front doorbell rings, and I almost drop the carton on the floor. Walking down the hallway, I strain to see who it is. The glass in the front door is frosted, which is stupid because you don’t know who’s on the other side. I should check the monitor, but it’s probably a delivery. Flinging the door open, my eyes bug when I see Jacob standing there looking like an ad for the Montlake website. I look like hell after my weekend. But now I look like hell warmed over after a bath. Holy shitty luck, why is he here?
“So that’s how you look without makeup,” Jacob smirks as he leans against the doorframe.
“Not now.”
Without thinking, my hand is in my damp hair, smoothing out the tangles. I don’t have to look in a mirror to know I need a comb, plus my breath tastes like stank.
“Are you going to let me in?” His eyes travel down my tank top. I’m not wearing a bra, and I’m sure he notices. I close my robe, belting it tighter.
“Shouldn’t you be in school, Mr. Fleming?” I lift my chin and do my best to look like I don’t give a shit.
“Lunchtime, Ms. Page.” Jacob brushes past me as he steps inside the house. “I might skip gym. Because I need to go to practice later.”
For a moment, his hard arm brushes against my body, and I feel a thrill that I need to ignore. Looking at me with a devilish gaze, Jacob grins like he knows what I’m thinking and tosses me a small teddy bear from the campus bookstore. It’s one of the deep red ones with the soft fur that they keep on a shelf behind the counter. I look closely at the silver ribbon around its neck. Attached to it is my birthstone, an opal and silver pendant.
“Happy birthday,” Jacob studies the carpet. “Sorry it sucked.”
I sigh, and he gives me an odd look. “You’re such a guy,” I explain, hugging my bear.
He frowns. “Don’t get mushy.”
Looking around the front hall, Jacob takes off his jacket and tosses it onto a chair. He’s wearing a tight navy Henley without the school logo and jeans. His clothing makes me wonder if Jacob even went to school today. His gaze rises along the staircase and he looks at the abstract artwork on the wall.
“Nice house,” he turns to face me. “I’ve never been inside before.”
“Too close to the tracks?”
Jacob smirks. My bravery slips, but I have to know. “So, what happened on Saturday?” My voice cracks.
“What do you mean?” Jacob studies his fingernails as if the answer is written on them.
“Don’t play the dumb jock,” I snap with frustration as my voice echoes through the quiet house. “We both know you’re not stupid. You’re too smart to be stupid.”
Startled by my bluntness, Jacob gazes at me. His stern expression softens while he stares. Gradually, the hardness is replaced with openness. And I wonder if I’m the first person to accuse him of being smart.
“Can we go somewhere a little more private?” he asks.
Something makes me catch myself before I tell him that no one else is home. The size of the mansion is overpowering, and there are times I want to huddle in a corner to feel safe. I miss my old home with its cozy rooms. Leading the way to the kitchen, I’m amused that Jacob is checking out my uncle’s mansion as we walk down the hallway. He peeks into the living room, and then into the office, as if he’s considering moving in. Except for my bedroom and the kitchen, I’ve only been in each room once.
Jacob hesitates at the archway into the kitchen. I move past him and he catches my hand before I walk into the room.
“How are you?” His resistance is completely gone. He looks as if he wants to really know, and my bottom lip trembles. I have to remind myself of what almost happened and tamp down my tears.
“Okay,” I mumble. “Want something to eat?”
Jacob nods his head.
“What would you like to eat?” I ask.
He stands next to me as we both stare into the fridge like we’re watching streaming. I sense the closeness of his body even though we aren’t touching, and I feel protected. Secretly, I glance at his profile without turning my head. His thick hair is tumbling into his dark brown eyes as he bites his lower lip.
“What is it, Nat?”
I’m caught. “Nothing.”
He grins and reaches for my orange juice. I almost stop him when he drinks out of the carton. I giggle, and he nudges me in the back with his elbow.
“I could get you a glass,” I offer, but he shakes his head. “You like pasta? My uncle ordered some last night. I can nuke it.”
“Sounds good.”
At first, we eat in silence in the breakfast nook. The change from the first day we met is amazing. I never thought Jacob would be the one to protect me. His gaze is far away as he looks out the window, and I feel a pinch, like this could be a lot more.
“Thanks for checking on me,” I say.
“You’re welcome.” Jacob splits the last roll in two and tosses half onto my plate. I smile, wondering if he does this at home. I stare again, and I don’t stop until Jacob speaks.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks.
“Did you know Troy would do that?”
My question makes him flinch. It’s so quick that I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been watching him. Avoiding my eyes, Jacob continues to look out the kitchen window.
“I always suspected Troy was fucked up, but I never …” He doesn’t finish the sentence, and the hardness is in his expression again.
I place my hands between my legs as my shoulders curl. “What do you mean by fucked up?” I question him.
Jacob frowns, and maybe he won’t tell me. Troy is his friend, or at least, they act like friends when everyone’s around.
“He’s not as good with girls as he pretends to be,” he explains while nervously tapping the table. “He’s never had a girlfriend.”
“You don’t have a girlfriend.”
Jacob’s eyes sparkle as he laughs, and his mask drops lower. “Yeah, but I’ve had girls.”
I swallow down a lump in my throat, and my hands play with the tie on my robe as I avoid his eyes. Maybe I don’t want to know about him and other girls. And for some reason, hearing that Jacob has been with a girl bothers me. But the two of us … it’s not a possibility. While I was tutoring him, Jacob warned me I’ll never be like the kids at Montlake. I lift my eyes, and we stare at each other until I fidget and look away.
“Besides,” he continues, poking the leftover pasta with his fork. “I don’t have the time.” He shrugs. “But now that I’m passing class, maybe I do.”
My cheeks blaze like they’re on fire, and Jacob gives me a suggestive look that would melt the panties off any other girl. He laughs as I cough nervously, but his face becomes serious again.
“Don’t worry, Natalie. I’ll deal with Troy.”
“How?”
“You don’t need to worry about it. I know what to do.”
He picks up the roll and chews it while we finish eating in silence. I’m closed off from his thoughts. His expression darkens the same way it did the first day we met. A chill shakes my body, and I wonder what he’ll do to Troy. As much as I despise the ass, I don’t like violence. Or at least, the kind that Jacob can hand out easily. His deep voice interrupts my fears.