King of Denial : An Academy Bully Romance (Boys of Almadale Book 3)

by Jacie Lennon

  “Can I ask you something, and you won’t get mad?”

  “Depends,” she says.

  I shake my head. “Promise.”

  “Fine, I promise.” She closes her eyes.

  “Are your parents mean to you?”

  “Mean?” Her eyes pop open, and she wrinkles her nose up.

  “Yeah, like abusive in some way? Is that why you are so scared of being discovered?”

  “No. They aren’t abusive to me. But they are very strict and don’t like to be disobeyed.”

  “Okay. ’Cause I’ll cut a motherfucker.”

  “Bodhi,” she mock gasps. “Language.”

  “Sorry, Virgin Mary.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she says, pushing against my shoulder.

  I grip her thighs as I lean in with a grin. “What? Mary?”

  “No, Virgin Mary.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “Do you think I don’t know?”

  “Know what?” She crinkles her nose again.

  “That you are a virgin.”

  “Oh. That.”

  “You are fourteen, and I’m fifteen, Trix. It’s not that uncommon. I’d even bet that the majority of kids our age who say they aren’t are.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Want to know a secret?” I lean up, brushing my nose against hers.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m a virgin too,” I whisper. “But don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to protect.”

  “What reputation?” she asks, the light coming back into her eyes with my admission.

  “The big, tough, strong alpha-male reputation.”

  “You can be that without sex, Bodhi.”

  “You and I both know that, but sometimes, the rest of the world doesn’t.”

  “Fuck the rest of the world,” she whispers, and I bark out a laugh.

  “Why, language, Trix,” I say, rising up and flopping beside her on the bed. “I’m not worried about it. As far as I’m concerned, we have all the time in the world.” I roll over, pulling her back to lie beside me, tucking her head into my shoulder.

  “You don’t know that,” she says, staring up at the ceiling.

  I turn my head, placing a kiss on her forehead. “No, I don’t. But I know that whatever time I have, I want to spend it with you.”

  “Like you said, Bo, I’m fourteen, and you’re fifteen. How can you even know something like that?”

  “Sometimes, when you know, you know.” I take a deep breath, watching her head rise and lower as I blow it out.

  She reaches over, picking at my shirt but not saying anything. I wish I could dig in her head and get inside her brain. She keeps her thoughts so close, barely letting even me in to see what she truly thinks.

  I’m glad I asked about her parents, but I still think there’s something not quite right. It’s a feeling I get in this house, like there’s a poison seeping through it, tainting the air. It’s off.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat,” I say, and she grins.

  “Okay, be right back.” She pushes off the bed, and she’s out the bedroom door before I can blink.

  She didn’t ask me to follow her, so I continue to lie here, drumming my fingers against my stomach. Her ceiling fan is spinning, whirring above me, and I get sleepy as I watch it, so I sit up and decide to look around her room once more.

  Her pristine white desk has books stacked on one end of it. I pick up a few, seeing some classics. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Little Women, and a book of poetry grace the top of the pile, but the fourth book has me grinning. I pull it from the stack, flipping it open, and even my eyebrows rise at the explicit paragraphs.

  The door opens, and I spin, holding the book up, a devilish smirk on my face.

  “Do your parents know you have this?” I ask Trixie, who rushes back into the room.

  She’s breathing hard, no doubt from running and sneaking around her own house, and I watch as her eyes dart to my hand.

  “Give me that, you snoop,” she says, trying to grab it from my hand but I hold it up high, where she can’t get it. Even now, I have quite a bit of height on her, and she doesn’t come close to reaching it while jumping up and down.

  “Keep jumping. I like the way you are rubbing against me,” I say shamelessly, and she immediately stops, scowling at me.

  “Give me the book,” she says, snapping her fingers.

  My eyes widen. “Did you snap at me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I like it. That was hot,” I say, gripping the back of her neck and pulling her head to mine. Any excuse to touch her.

  She places her hands on my chest. “I don’t like you right now,” she says, trying not to smile.

  “Same. Hate your guts. Kiss me,” I whisper against her mouth, and she melts into me.

  I love the way she feels in my arms, the way she tastes and smells. Everything about her affects me, and I meant everything I said before. When I knew, I knew that I wanted Trixie to be mine, and now that she is, I’m the luckiest son of a bitch to ever walk this planet.

  There’s a knock on the door, jarring both of us, and she looks over her shoulder.

  “Come on,” she says, pulling away from me. She walks to the door, pulling it open. “I had our chef whip up some food.”

  She bends down and struggles to lift a heavy tray. She ends up sliding it along the floor until it’s close to me, and I pick it up, setting it on her desk.

  I watch her walk to some double window doors and pull them open. The sounds of a party in full swing drift up from down below, a small amount of light illuminating Trixie’s balcony. She instructs me to rearrange her lounge chairs and drag the small table between them, and then I set the tray on it while Trixie grabs pillows and blankets.

  She sets an obscene amount of pillows on one of them, and I settle into it and then wait for her to do the same to hers, but she doesn’t. She drops down between my legs, pulling the large comforter and blankets over us as she leans back against my chest.

  The lights below us start to dim, and we stare up at the sky, the stars twinkling.

  “Perfect timing,” Trixie says, wiggling back a little to get comfortable.

  Her ass brushes my dick, and it springs to life, expecting attention while I try to ignore it. I won’t force Trix into anything she doesn’t want to do, but damn if her body isn’t calling to every cell in mine.

  At the first pop of fireworks, there’s a rising chant from below.

  Trixie turns to me, nuzzling into my chest as we quietly count down with everyone else. As soon as one is yelled, Trixie presses her lips to mine, pulling back slightly to whisper, “Happy New Year,” before settling back in to watch the show.

  7

  Trixie

  Freshman Year—February

  I spin, rising and lowering my feet, my arms arced in a specified routine, and I spot the wall, looking for the same place every time I turn my head. It feels like gliding across the floor, something I can never get enough of. Full of weight and weightless at the same time.

  I stop at the bar that’s bolted into the wall, looking at the mirror across the room. My reflection stares back, chest heaving and forehead glistening with sweat.

  I’ve never felt that my sticking to a routine was off or wrong. As a person, I’m usually more reserved and not as carefree, but I figure that was my upbringing. It’s served me well in ballet, where I push through and learn how to do something even if it doesn’t come naturally.

  I bend to take off my pointe shoes, unwrapping them, sliding them off, and bending and flexing my toes to stretch them.

  One more toenail torn, but I don’t care. I love it.

  I carry my shoes to my room, where I strip from my leotard and flowy skirt and throw them in my hamper.

  I’m home for the weekend, and Bodhi is coming to pick me up for the best, most kick-ass Valentine’s date of my life. His words, not mine.

  Considering it’s my first Valentine’s
with a boyfriend, it’s already going to be my best. I pull my fluffy robe from the back of my closet door and sit on the side of my bed. I bought a new dress for tonight, and it’s hanging on the knob of my armoire. The bright pink color makes me happy to look at, and I smile.

  A knock on my door has me turning, watching it crack open, and the head that pokes through has my jaw dropping before I squeal, launching myself from the bed and running across the floor.

  “Linna! What are you doing here?” I pull her inside, shutting the door and locking it behind her.

  “You look good, B,” she says, ignoring my question.

  “Mom and Dad will be back at any moment,” I say, pulling her to the bed and I wait until she sits. “Start talking. Where have you been? What have you been doing?” I cross my arms over my chest and pin her with a look as I stand in front of her.

  Belinda, my older sister, worries her bottom lip as she stares at some point over my shoulder.

  “I didn’t come here to discuss me,” she says, leaning back on her elbows. “Come on. Sit beside me.” She reaches over with her hand to pat the top of the bed.

  “I want to discuss you, Linna. I haven’t seen you in forever.”

  “I need to talk about you,” she says, grinning and poking me in the side. “Tell me everything about what you have going on. I need some happy in my life.”

  I frown at her last words, not liking that she’s so unhappy that she needs me to cheer her up. She should know how boring I am. We grew up together. Sort of. She is five years older than me, so it was like I always had a cool babysitter that I looked up to. Until she left last year. She graduated from Almadale and split, not looking back.

  “I have a boyfriend.” I can’t keep the elation off my face, and her eyes widen.

  “Beatrice Lucinda, tell me everything. Who is he?”

  “Well, Belinda Margaret,” I drawl, rolling my eyes at her use of my name. “His name is Bodhi Montgomery, and he’s wonderful.”

  “Montgomery,” she says, squinting her eyes as she looks at me. “As in Chester Montgomery’s son?”

  “Yes, that’s him.” I nod emphatically.

  “No shit. We used his yacht for Senior Skip Day a few years ago. It’s an Almadale tradition.” She turns on her side, rising on one elbow.

  “Yeah, they had it in the fall, but you can’t go unless you are a senior.”

  “Duh,” she says. “It’s right there in the name.”

  “I wonder if Bodhi went,” I muse as I lie on my elbow, facing my sister. “I didn’t ever ask him.”

  “He’s not a senior, right? I remember him being way younger.”

  “No, we are in the same grade.”

  “Got it. So, tell me all the juicy details. Have you kissed? What are all the kids calling it these days?”

  “I’m not a kid.” My face turns red at her mention of kissing.

  “You are compared to me. Five years makes a big difference, Trixie, believe me.” Her face grows serious, and she rolls over to lie on her back again. “How are you doing at home?”

  “Fine, I guess. I don’t see them much. They are meeting Bodhi tonight. He’s coming to pick me up.”

  “Aren’t you, like, fourteen?”

  “I am, but he’s fifteen.”

  “Still can’t legally drive at fifteen.” She shakes her head, narrowing her eyes.

  “I’m sure he has a driver, Linna. Like Dad uses.”

  “Better.” She wiggles a finger in my direction. “So, they are okay with you having a boyfriend?”

  “I don’t think they have any say if I do or don’t.” My tone is sharp, biting, and I realize how much I want it to be true. I want to make my own decisions. Plan my own future and not have it organized for me.

  “You are a fool if you believe that, B.” Linna’s voice is quiet, but the way she says it sounds like she yelled.

  My mouth drops open, shock coursing through me. “What do you mean?”

  “Mom and Dad control everything, and they always will as long as you let them.”

  “Is that why you left?”

  “Yes. One of the reasons.”

  “What were the others?”

  She gets quiet, and I want to shake her, make her spill all her secrets and tell me why she left me. Why she stopped talking to me. Why she acted like I didn’t exist for the past year.

  “They expected too much from me, and the only way I could get away from those expectations was to leave. They told me I couldn’t have contact with you, B. I respected that since you are still a minor, and I don’t know what lengths they would go to enforce their words. But I can’t stay away forever. You are my sister, and I love you. I needed to see you, if only for a moment.”

  I grow quiet, contemplative. I knew my parents and Linna had fought quite a lot over the six months leading up to her leaving. But I don’t know what it was over. I never quite caught the conversations at the right time when I tried to eavesdrop.

  “But what did they expect?” I’m up on my knees now, looming over her.

  “I can’t tell you, love. But I’m going to give you something.” She sits up, reaches into her pocket, pulls a small piece of paper out, and presses it into my hand. “It’s my personal number. Memorize it and then destroy this paper. Don’t put it in your phone. There will come a time when you need me, and I want you to be able to call me.” She reaches over to smooth back the tiny hairs at the edge of my hairline. “There will be great expectations for you, B. But know you have a choice. No matter what is asked, you always have a choice.”

  She’s scaring me. The seriousness of her tone isn’t one that I’m used to, and I don’t like it. The sound of a car door slamming has her sliding off the bed, looking down at me.

  “Don’t think I didn’t realize you avoided my kissing question. Next time, you have to spill.” The light is back in her eyes, and she grins.

  She reaches down, pulling me into a hug before she slips out of the room. I didn’t even get to say good-bye.

  My nerves are shot after seeing my sister. I’m sitting in the front parlor, tapping the toe of my pink heels. My dad hasn’t seen them yet, and I’m sure he won’t be happy. He doesn’t think I’m growing up. I think he still views me as a young child, one he rarely saw since he was too busy with networking and his business. He’s a politician at heart. He might not be a front man, but he’s behind the scenes, running the show. I’m old enough to know that. To know that he’s good at manipulating and getting what he wants.

  I spent the time after my sister left memorizing her number before I flushed the piece of paper down the toilet. Now, I tap my toe in a rhythm with the numbers I’m chanting in my brain.

  Five. Tap. Five. Tap. Five. Tap. Four. Tap. Six. Tap. Three. Tap. Four. Tap.

  Then, I start all over again.

  I can’t forget—555-4634.

  A knock at the front door has me bursting from my chair and into the front hallway as fast as my heeled feet will take me. I throw open one side of the large double doors, and I’m greeted by a smiling Bodhi.

  “Damn,” he says, staring at me. He’s holding a gift bag, the tissue paper haphazardly sticking out of the top. “You look … damn.” He shakes his head.

  I blush, glancing down at my hot-pink dress, running my hands down it for something to do. It’s still pristine. The flowy skirt swirls around my legs as I walk, and I love the way it highlights the right amount of chest. I’m finally starting to get a little bit bigger there.

  I step back, holding the door open for him to walk through.

  “Haven’t seen this part of the house yet,” he says on a whisper as he walks by me, setting the bag down, and I giggle and then shut the door.

  He grabs my waist, twirling me around, and pulls me to his chest before laying a kiss on my lips. I pull back slightly, glancing around to make sure my parents haven’t suddenly materialized, and then I press up, giving him a light peck.

  His hands bunch in the material at my waist, and I can fe
el the heat from his skin, warming mine through the dress.

  “Beatrice?” My dad’s voice instantly has me flinching, and I step back from Bodhi, his hands falling from my waist.

  I turn to see my dad’s disapproving glare pinned on both of us. I would be upset, but that’s his normal look on most days, whether he’s actually upset or not.

  “Bodhi Montgomery. You look like your father.” Dad strides forward, his hand held out, and I watch them shake.

  They stare a beat too long, sizing one another up. To his credit, Bodhi doesn’t seem affected. His cocky smirk doesn’t slip, and his handshake looks pretty firm from where I’m standing.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Northcutt.”

  “We will see,” Dad says, and I let out a small groan. He’s definitely not in a good mood. “What are you two doing tonight?”

  “It’s a surprise, sir,” Bodhi says, and Dad narrows his eyes at me, taking in my dress and heels before focusing back on Bodhi.

  “I don’t like surprises,” he replies.

  “Good thing it’s not for you,” Bodhi says.

  I snort before stopping myself. Dad definitely won’t like that, but I find myself not caring.

  “Why don’t we have a chat, young man?” Dad steps up, placing a hand on Bodhi’s shoulder and hauling him to the side.

  I notice Mom has come up behind where Dad was standing, and she’s watching the two have a quiet talk, a strange look on her face.

  When she sees me looking at her, she puts on a smile and walks over to me, grabbing my hands.

  “You look beautiful, darling,” she says, and I smile.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “What are you two doing tonight?” She glances over at Dad and Bodhi again. Her actions are making me nervous with the strange energy she’s putting off.

  Finally, Dad and Bodhi walk back over, and I make the introductions for my mom. The tension in the room is thick, and I keep inching back, contemplating grabbing Bodhi’s hand and making a run for it. I can’t figure out why my parents are being so weird, but I’m over it.