3 Book High School Romance Bundle: A Kiss at Midnight & Prom King & Under My Skin

by Zara Rivas

  He spoke softly, but his words had bite to them. He had hurt me a little and he knew it. I waited a moment to reply. "It takes time to get to know someone. Time has never been something I've had a lot of, at least not in one place." He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. "When I was younger, I opened up to everyone. I lied before. I used to be furious with my dad for making us leave. When I was thirteen, fourteen, I was horrible to him because I couldn't stand that we couldn't stay just one place. I grew out of it and closed off. It was easier. Until I got here," I finished.

  When I finally got the courage to look at him, he smiled slightly and pulled me close. I curled against his shoulder and flipped the TV on. It was so nice to be able to relax with someone.

  TV got boring rather quickly. I was so aware of every inch of him that it didn't take too long for us to lose focus. His lips felt so incredible against my skin that I never wanted him to stop. I yanked his shirt over his head in one swift motion, wanting to feel his skin on mine. He kissed my jaw line, his lips so soft that I shivered. When his lips finally met mine again, I kissed him with everything I had. I had no idea how long we'd been going at it until I heard fumbling on the other side of the door.

  "Fuck," I said into his mouth, pushing him off me. "My dad's home."

  Casey practically jumped off me. I grabbed his shirt, threw it at him, and shoved him in the bathroom. I barely managed to get mine over my head before my dad got the door open.

  "Hi, honey," my dad said absentmindedly as he looked through the mail. He was in his full uniform which meant that he had just returned from an extremely important meeting.

  I fixed my ponytail as he kicked off his shoes. "Hi, Dad."

  He sat down on the couch and paged through more of the mail before glancing up at me. "Are you going to introduce me to the boy you shoved in the bathroom or am I going to have to do it myself?"

  I looked at him, surprised. I thought I had done a decent job shoving Casey into the bathroom so quickly. "There's no—" I started to lie, but he looked at me pointedly. I sighed, "How'd you know?"

  He nodded at the TV, "ESPN. You hate baseball. And the shoes at the door. And I'm also fairly sure I can smell him. You're not sleeping with him, are you?"

  "Dad!" I groaned. "No."

  "Good, now go get him."

  Casey opened the door before I had the chance. "Hi, Mr. Fuller. I'm Casey Fitzgerald."

  "General Fuller," my father corrected rather crossly. I buried my head in my hands. I swore my dad actually tried being a jerk to any guy in my life. It certainly didn't come naturally to him.

  "Sorry, General," Casey corrected himself smoothly. "You could've told me you didn't like baseball, you know," Casey said to me. "You said it was okay."

  "It was," I assured him. "But you have to go, right Casey? It's dinner time."

  "Uh—"

  "Please, have dinner here," my father invited him. "We have more than enough."

  "Sure," Casey accepted, ignoring me shaking my head vigorously. "Thank you, sir."

  Dinner went as well as could be expected. My dad tried baiting Casey more than a couple times, but he never took it. I wanted to die pretty much right there, but neither seemed to pay any attention to me besides to use me as bait. I did not understand testosterone and I was certain I never wanted to. It reverted them both into rivaling five year olds.

  When my father finally seemed to accept that Casey was a suitable human being, they bonded. And I still wanted to die.

  "Have you lived here long?" my father asked.

  "My whole life," he responded. "Right now it's just my mom, me and my little sister. My older brother's in college. He and Katie actually met when she was touring the University of Chicago."

  "What about your dad?"

  Casey shrugged, "He left after my sister was born. Couldn't handle another kid. Brian and I were handful, I guess. It's not a big deal. Both my parents are happier and I still talk to him."

  My jaw dropped. I had no idea his father had left his family. That he could forgive him wasn't something I could fathom. How could he forgive someone who bailed on him?

  "That must've been hard," my dad said.

  "At first."

  "When Katie's mom left, it was devastating for both of us," my dad said. Casey caught my eye. I could tell he was just as surprised by the news as I was about his. "Katie hasn't told you?" My father asked. Casey shook his head. "She still hasn't managed to forgive her and it's been five years. Just recently her mother tried to contact her and she refused to even open the letter. She still hasn't."

  The silence that descended was unbearable. What was Casey supposed to say to that? Was I supposed to speak up? Did my dad really think this was appropriate conversation? Unable to take it, I gathered the dishes and began washing them even though we had a working dishwasher. I needed to do something.

  My dad and Casey talked for a few more minutes before my dad finally retreated to the living room. I could feel Casey hovering behind me before he spoke.

  "He really loves you," he said quietly.

  "I know," I replied.

  "So does your mom," he added after a long pause.

  I sighed and rinsed my hands off. After drying them, I turned around to face him. "Just… don't, Casey. There was a reason I hadn't told you about her yet."

  "Yet?" he asked. "So you planned to?"

  "I don't know," I said. "I'm glad you forgave your father. Really. But I'm not you. I don't know how to forgive someone who abandoned me. She was one of the only people that could relate to how I felt and she left and waited five years to contact me. I don't think that qualifies as love so much as responsibility, or guilt maybe."

  He smiled sadly at me. "I should go," he said, kissing me quickly on the lips. "See you tomorrow?"

  I nodded, kissing him again. I watched him go but didn't go into the living room. I didn't want to deal with my dad just yet.

  "I like him," my dad said. Apparently he hadn't gotten the memo.

  "So do I," I replied shortly. "Why'd you do that?"

  "Do what?"

  "Make me sound like an unforgiving idiot. I have reasons for not wanting Mom back in my life."

  He shook his head before setting a letter down on the counter next to me. I recognized the scroll and was surprised to find this letter opened. "We need to talk," he said.

  Chapter Twelve

  I was beyond angry.

  My father had been keeping something huge from me. He had contacted my mother after the first letter she sent to me. In fact, they had actually met for lunch once since then.

  "How can he still love her so much?" I inquired. I had called Erin as soon as I escaped from my father, which hadn't been long, seeing that as soon as he mentioned meeting her for lunch, I'd locked myself in my room. "She left him. Does he not realize that's kinda the universal sign for 'I don't love you back'? She's making a fool out of him."

  "And he wants you to meet with her?" Erin asked, the disgust in her voice obvious. Erin had always completely agreed with me about my mother. Anyone to walk out on a family wasn't worth forgiving—especially when the family didn't have many people to count on.

  "Of course he does," I replied. I didn't understand this at all. I didn't care that she was suddenly feeling guilty about the daughter she left behind. Leaving me gave me the option to choose whether or not she had the right to come back into my life. I didn't want her to. "He's so unreasonable. I can't wait until September. College is going to be such a godsend."

  She laughed, "Only for you would college insert a bit of stability. What if your dad gets uprooted before September? What are you going to do?"

  "No idea," I admitted. "Go with him? I always go with him."

  "You don't have to anymore."

  "I know. I have no idea what that would be like. Sometimes I wonder if I could even deal with life in one place for very long. I think I'd constantly be expecting something to make me have to leave." I sighed before returning to the issue at hand. "Sh
ould I give my mom a chance? Am I being stupid by not seeing her?"

  "You know I think you're right. And you know that's what you want to hear," Erin pointed out. "I don't know if I could ever forgive her, but if you think you're ready to give her a shot, then do it. You could just shut her down right there if she's still as selfish as she's always been."

  I didn't reply immediately. I really loved Erin for her ability to see things from my perspective. I always felt like she understood even if there was no way she could. She was the best person I knew. "Couldn't she come into my life as something else? I don't know if I'm ready to love her unconditionally like I'm supposed to. I don't even think I'm ready to like her."

  "That's something you'd have to work out with her, I think," she responded. "Just because she gave birth to you doesn't make her your mother. Love and support and all that jazz… that's what does it. She hasn't supported you. She doesn't know who you've become or how you've changed. How you let her into your life, if you do at all, is your choice."

  "Thanks," I sighed. "You're the best."

  "Duh," she replied. "How are things with Casey?"

  I sighed again. "Complicated. God. What the hell am I supposed to do? I can't be with him if I know I'm leaving. I can't. I can't get that attached. It'll break my heart."

  "Sometimes it's worth it. Completely giving your heart to someone is an incredible experience."

  "I don't know," I said, "I don't think he's that serious. I mean, I'm fine with us being the way we are. He seems to be fine. I don't know. I don't want to."

  "One of you will get hurt if you don't communicate better," she warned. "And as much as you're worried about yourself, you might wanna think about the fact that someone else's feelings are involved here. You should talk to him before you get too far in."

  "I know. It's just… I don't know."

  She laughed. "You like him. It's okay. You might just wanna admit it to yourself before it's too late."

  We hung up soon after. Her words were still fresh in my mind and I contemplated them for most of the night. I was never able to fall asleep.

  I looked like hell the following day. Though I hadn't fallen asleep, I had a difficult time getting out of bed. I made no effort to look any better. I pulled a sweatshirt on over the same clothes I had been wearing the day before, tightened my ponytail, and left.

  "Hey beautiful," his breath tickled my ear and I smiled despite my dismal mood.

  "I know very well that I look like huge piles of crap today," I told him pointedly as he walked me to my locker.

  His blue eyes wandered over me so slowly that I felt like he was taking in every inch of me. When his eyes finally met mine again, he grinned and said, "I don't see it."

  "You are so full of it," I shoved him playfully.

  "I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied cheekily. "I'll see you in English." He darted away with a friend and I walked the rest of the way to my locker alone.

  I didn't immediately notice how much better I was feeling until I opened my locker. On top of my books, which had been organized and alphabetized, lay a single red rose. I smiled, stroking the flower before pulling out my books and heading to English.

  My eyes met his when I entered and I smiled secretively. He grinned before turning back to his conversation. "You're glowing," Erica said from her seat beside me. I broke into a grin and she snickered. "Oh God. You really like him, don't you? Oh please don't turn into the rest of his girlfriends. Please."

  I wasn't his girlfriend and Erica knew it, but I was in too good of a mood to take her bait. So she wanted to remind me that this was nothing serious. Why did a relationship title make something serious or not? All I knew was that I loved how he made me feel. That was enough for me.

  Mr. Oldman entered the room and saved me from having to reply to Erica anyway, though the look on his face told me he hadn't forgotten what he saw the day before. I caught Casey's eyes as the teacher sat at his desk and he looked supremely unconcerned. I doubted that he would have minded even if Mr. Oldman outed us.

  I could feel Casey's eyes on me through the entire class. It felt much like my first day at McCormack High, but this time I welcomed his attention. I wasn't intimidated; I was ecstatic.

  This was so far outside the realm of just fooling around that I didn't know what to do. I was going to leave. So was he. It was inevitable. Did I really want to jump in and give him my heart knowing that it was going to break? Was it even possible for me to give myself to anyone?

  A little voice inside told me that I was already half way there. It said that no matter what, I was already too far in to get out unscathed. I could give it a chance if he was willing, couldn't I? I gave Casey a little smile and he returned it.

  "Casey," Mr. Oldman barked suddenly, repeating the same question he asked on my first day, "What do you find so fascinating about Ms. Fuller?"

  Casey grinned, leaning back in his chair lazily. "Everything."

  By the time lunch came around, the school was afloat with rumors about Casey and me. His exclamation could have been entirely meaningless if not for the softness that he suddenly had around me. He was different with me and everyone noticed.

  Neither of us answered anyone's questions which just fueled the rumors further. It wouldn't have mattered how we answered, everyone still would have been embellishing. It was amusing how much a story could change.

  "I knew it," Kari caught me in line. "I knew you liked him."

  I just shrugged, but I smiled despite myself. She smiled back. "He's amazing," Kari continued. "You two are perfect."

  "What about Stephanie?" I asked carefully.

  "She'll be okay," she said. "I think she's known all along that he's had a thing for you. And she's never really expected anything to come from her thing for him so…"

  Regardless of Kari's assurances, Stephanie was nowhere to be seen during lunch. I tried to not let it bother me, but it did. I didn't want to hurt her. I was sure that our conversation about Casey prior to my trip to Chicago had reassured her that I wasn't interested and now… well, I felt like a major bitch. She had every right to be upset.

  On a happier note, Gabrielle had been immediately shot down as soon as she tried approaching. Casey was nice about it, but she got the message.

  He grabbed my hand as the bell rang, signifying the end of lunch. "Let's blow off history," he whispered.

  "No," I protested. "People are already talking enough. If we both just don't show up for class, it'll never end."

  He smiled, "Like you care."

  I shrugged. "I do."

  "Bull," he pushed his forehead to mine. "Come on… I'm sure we could think of something better to do."

  I smirked, "You're an awfully cocky bastard, aren't you?"

  "And yet, you like me anyway," he grinned, pulling me down the hallway towards the parking lot. I didn't fight him.

  I figured we would just end up going to his place, but he surprised me when he drove past the turn to his house. When I glanced over at him, he just smiled. "You have such a one-track mind, Katie."

  "I have no idea what you're talking about," I assured him. "Where are we going?"

  "For ice cream," he said. We arrived at a small ice cream parlor a few minutes later. It was empty except for an elderly couple. Casey bought himself a vanilla cone and me a cookies and cream one.

  "But vanilla's just so boring," I argued as we slid into a booth in the corner of the parlor.

  He laughed, licking a bit of ice cream from his fingers. "I don't know, I didn't picture you as the kinky type."

  "I'm not talking about sex, asshole," I said loudly. I could tell by Casey's amused expression that the elderly couple at the counter was glaring at me. "Vanilla's really your favorite?"

  He shrugged, "Super-brownie-caramel-fudge-chip-strawberry-banana-coconut just doesn't do anything for me. My taste buds can't handle that kind of overload. There's something reassuring about the simplicity of vanilla." He picked a piece of his waffle cone off
and popped it in his mouth. "I mean, I'm happy that Baskin Robbins has thirty-one flavors, but they don't need to all be in one cone. It's not right." I snickered at his over-exaggerated rant.

  We enjoyed our ice cream in silence for a moment before I spoke, surprising us both. "My dad's been in contact with my mom."

  His eyes met mine intently, as if he was trying to figure out if he should say anything or just let me rant.

  "He told me last night, after you left. They even met for lunch once. Which means he flew all the way to Florida for her," I sighed. "Am I being unreasonable?"