“Rimmel?”
She looked away. “This wasn’t my first time.”
I felt like I was kicked in the gut, and tightness gripped my chest. I pushed it away because of the regret I heard in her voice. Maybe she thought I wouldn’t want her as much if I knew someone else had her first.
It drove me insane to think of anyone else touching her, but I wasn’t about to throw stones. It would be the pot calling the kettle black.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I said softly, pulling her against me. I kissed the top of her head without even thinking about it. “I’m not upset.”
She buried her face in my chest and that feeling in the air pressed in on us. It seemed a little odd that this wasn’t her first time. I had her pegged for a virgin almost since the moment we met. She was so damn shy and innocent at times. She hid herself in way too large clothes, she barely ever looked at people, and animals were her preferred company.
When I slid into her body, she was tight, so tight and small I didn’t think twice about her being inexperienced. And when I pulled her on top of me, she said she’d never…
A sick feeling twisted me up inside.
My hand on her hip fisted and my breathing became a little labored.
She must have felt the sickness and anger radiating from my pores, because she looked up. I reached over and snagged her glasses off the side of the mattress and gently slid them onto her face. I wanted her to see me clearly. I wanted to see her clearly.
“Rimmel.” I began, hating the thoughts in my head, the suspicions that would keep me up at night.
She tried to duck back into the safety of my arms, but I pulled back, unwilling to let her have what she wanted until I knew.
I caught her face in my palms and forced her to look at me. I stared into her eyes, which had turned wary and a little ashamed. “Did someone…?” I began forcing the words past the lump in my throat. “Did someone hurt you?”
Her lashes swept across her cheeks when she closed her eyes.
I made a sound and shook her slightly, and her eyes opened once more. “Did someone rape you?” I burst out, harsh and low.
She stiffened and hers eyes widened. “No!”
My entire body went weak. I sagged against the pillows and blew out a breath. “Fucking shit, Rimmel. I was already planning that scumbag’s murder.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her hand on my chest. I picked it up and kissed her fingers. She glanced away and then back. “I wasn’t forced into anything I didn’t want to do. But I was taken advantage of, and it hurt me.”
I brushed the hair out of her face and swiped the pad of my thumb along her bottom lip. “Tell me.”
“It was a long time ago.” She hedged.
“Yet I still see the shadows in your eyes right now,” I murmured.
She scooted up and laid her head on my chest. It scared me how good it felt to have her against me like this. How complete I felt. I tucked my arms around her and rested my chin on top of her head.
“I told you my mom died when I was eleven,” she said.
“Yeah,” I replied.
“She drowned.” Her voice was quiet. “We had a pool. Everyone in Florida has a pool, it seems. One day when I was at school, she must have been in the backyard doing something and she somehow fell, hit her head, and fell into the pool. No one was home to help her.”
And that explained why she skirted around the pool in the yard and looked at it with clear fear and hate.
“When I got off the bus, she wasn’t waiting. So I walked home by myself. I searched through the house for her. I was yelling her name and she didn’t answer. I thought she was playing some sort of game with me.”
I felt her words like a knife to the heart. I pictured her at eleven, smaller than she was even now, with all that dark hair and wide eyes, calling out for her mother.
“I went out in the backyard…” She paused. “She was floating in the pool. The water had turned pink because of all the blood.”
“Baby,” I murmured, gathering her closer. Her hand curled around my bicep, and this fierce possessive feeling ripped through my chest. It was dangerous how strong the urge was to protect her from everything.
“I don’t remember what happened much for a couple weeks after that. There was a funeral and an investigation. My dad had the pool destroyed and filled in with dirt. My grandmother stayed with us for a while, but eventually she had to get back to her job, my grandpa.”
“I’m sure it was very hard for your entire family.”
“Yeah, and I didn’t make it any easier.”
“You were a kid.” I defended.
“After about a year of nothing but grief, life kind of had to go on. At least that’s what it felt like. I was so angry I was expected to just go on and leave Mom in the past. My dad worked full time. He worked a lot to cover the bills and I think because it helped him deal. But it left me sort of on my own. I spent a lot of time with my grandmother on the weekends, but after school, I was alone until he came home.”
I didn’t know what to say so I just continued to hold her and listen. I never expected any of this. I would have never known by looking at her what kind of pain she’d had to endure.
“I started rebelling. I was only twelve, but I acted a lot older. I started wearing all this makeup and obsessing over my hair. I’d cut my shorts super short.” She took a deep breath. I felt her lungs expand against my chest. “My dad didn’t know what to do. I mean, I was a teenage girl who was acting out. I had a lot of anger and rage. We fought all the time. He would throw out my skimpy clothes and refused to buy me makeup. I’d find ways to get it anyway, and I’d hide it. I’d wait ‘til he left and put it all on.”
“You were so young,” I murmured.
“Too young to realize what I was doing would affect me for years to come.” Rimmel agreed. “I felt incredibly alone. There was this hole where my mom used to be, and my dad just kind of disappeared. I think part of me wanted his attention and that was how I got it. There were these older kids that lived down the block from me… a couple guys and a girl. They used to hang out all the time, so I started hanging out with them too.”
My stomach tightened. I knew where this was going.
“One of the guys was interested in me. He gave me a lot of attention. Made me feel good. Less alone.”
“You slept with him,” I said. I just wanted to get it out there. I wanted to get it over with.
“Yeah, I did. He pressured me, and I gave in. He said he loved me.” The hurt in her voice made me pissed all over again. “He didn’t force me. I was thirteen and I gave him my virginity.”
“How old was he?” I asked. I had to know.
“Seventeen.”
I swore under my breath. That kid knew better. He damn well knew better.
“Afterward, he totally ignored me. I was confused and didn’t understand why. I mean, they had been my friends and he was my boyfriend. Then they all just stopped talking to me. They avoided me and refused to hang out. Basically, he used me. He was nice and friendly. He said the things I wanted to hear so he could sleep with me. Once I gave him that part of myself, he turned his back. He didn’t want anything to do with me.”
How was I supposed to act here? What was I supposed to say? Because what I really wanted to do was yell and punch something, to pound down a couple of beers to dull the ache I felt for her. But that was selfish. She didn’t need that. She’d opened herself up to me, let me in.
“After that, I stopped dressing slutty and wearing makeup. I started covering up and keeping to myself. I was ashamed. Once I stopped acting out, my dad and my relationship got a lot better. He started coming home before dinner, and we settled into a normal life. I studied all the time and spent a lot of time volunteering at the local shelter. I knew I wanted to become a vet, and because I studied so much and had good grades, I got a scholarship to Alpha. My dad didn’t want me to move this far away, but this was the only free ride I was offered and I didn’
t want to saddle him with my college bills. Besides, part of me wanted to leave. I just wanted to get away.”
It explained so much about her. Before, I only had half a portrait of her, but her words painted the rest.
Rimmel hit rock bottom at an age no person should. What was even more remarkable was she bounced back, and she did it so well.
“I need to kiss you,” I whispered and dragged her up so she was lying across my chest. She yielded to me without the slightest hesitation.
I kissed her slowly and thoroughly until my body began to ache for more. When I looked into her eyes, they were fuzzy and unfocused. I pulled the glasses off her face and brushed another kiss across her lips. “How sore are you?” I rasped.
“Never too sore for you,” she replied.
I rolled on top of her, clasped each of her hands in mine, and lifted them above our heads.
Then I made love to her with all the tenderness she deserved.
Chapter Thirty-One
Rimmel
I found something to like as a result of this cold autumn air. Warm apple cider. A vendor was selling it in the bleachers as the Wolves played down on the field.
A tall paper cup with a plastic lid was snug in my hands, and the sweet, spicy aroma wafted up through the open sipping portion and tickled my nose. I didn’t think I would like it, but my fingers and nose were so cold I bought it just for the warmth.
The second the cinnamon sweet liquid burst over my tongue, I was in love. It was sort of like apple juice but better. It was thicker and had more of a bite because of whatever spices they mixed in. I took my time sipping it, enjoying the pleasure of being warmed from the inside out.
Beside me, Ivy was drinking hot chocolate and Missy had cider also. I was wrapped up in Romeo’s hoodie, showing my support just like he wanted. Just recalling the way his sapphire eyes deepened when I stepped out with my lone pair of skinny jeans, boots, and his hoodie made my stomach summersault.
I knew it was possessive and probably some form of chauvinism that he wanted his name plastered across my back, but I didn’t care. I liked it. I liked being claimed by Romeo.
The full crowd around us cheered and yelled, and I focused back on the field, my eyes going right to number twenty-four as he threw the ball and sent it spiraling down the turf. One of the other guys on his team snatched it out of the air, dodged a defender, and ran all the way to the end zone.
Everyone went crazy and jumped to their feet. People were chanting Romeo’s name and the guys on the field celebrated the touchdown.
I stood there in the center of the enthusiastic crowd, holding my cider and wrapped up in his sweatshirt, so full of joy.
Ivy grabbed my arm and shook me. “Did you see that?” she exclaimed.
I grinned and cheered.
I never thought I would be someone to enjoy football. But the energy out here in the crowd, the intensity on the field… it made me see why Romeo loved it so much. This was definitely something I could get used to.
The game continued, and Ivy and Missy both leaned around to give me knowing grins. “Where were you all last night and all day today?” Ivy asked.
I pressed my lips together and smiled.
Ivy’s eyes got wide. “I knew it!” She looked at Missy. “Didn’t I call it?”
“She called it.” Missy agreed.
“Called what?” I asked innocently, sipping the drink.
“Go ahead and play coy all you want, Rimmel,” Ivy said, elbowing me. “But we all know what you spent all night doing.”
I grinned again and felt a blush sweep my cheeks. Ivy giggled. Missy stood and called out for Braeden and gave him a little cheer.
I spent the entire night in Romeo’s arms. In his bed. But it was him who was under my skin. I felt consumed by him. My insides were jittery from the thrill of being with him. It was almost like I drank fifty cups of coffee and my body was so keyed up it could run ten miles.
When I admitted to not being a virgin, to the age I was when I lost it, I thought he might look at me differently. I thought maybe it would turn him away. But it didn’t. Baring that part of myself to him—to anyone—for the first time ever only pulled him closer.
The sheer bliss I felt in his arms and beneath his touch was something I’d never even dreamed about. He made love to me so many times I lost count. In the morning when I reached for him, he was there, and he made love to me again. I dozed in bed while he trained in the other room. He woke me by carrying me into the shower with him because he “needed help washing his back.” Then we went for pancakes and he held my hand beneath the table.
When he drove me back to the dorm before he had to go get ready for the game, he made me promise to wear his sweatshirt. And then he asked me to be his.
I said yes of course. There was nothing I wanted more.
And now here I was, tracking his movements down on the field and giggling with my friends on the bleachers. I knew I would see him later and I knew I’d end up in his arms again.
“He really is the best player on the team,” Ivy said. I followed her eyes to Romeo running out on the field.
She was right. He looked so at home there. Like the turf was in his blood. The guys all responded to him, looked to him for direction. He was basically the backbone of the team, the glue that held all the pieces together.
He was so many things to so many people.
A small pit of worry formed in the bottom of my stomach. I tried to push it away. I tried to ignore it, but it wasn’t to be ignored. Romeo had a very full life, a very demanding life, and just like me, he had dreams of his own.
This weekend had been wonderful…
What if it was too good to be true?
What if he decided he didn’t want a girlfriend after all? What if after the glow of a new relationship faded, so did he?
I shook my head against the thoughts. My brain was saying one thing, but my heart was saying something else.
He cares about you. I heard it with every beat of my pulse.
I was going to focus on that, because listening to my head hurt too much.
Almost as if Ivy heard the struggle going on inside me, she leaned over and whispered, “I’ve never seen him like this before.”
I gave her a sideways glance. “Who?”
“Romeo,” she replied. “We’ve been going to the same parties and I’ve been coming to all the games since freshman year. He’s never shown this much interest in anyone before.”
“Really?” I asked, truly wanting the truth.
She put her arm around my shoulders and gave me a one-armed hug. “Really.”
I blew out an anxious breath as some of my worry went away. We went back to cheering for the Wolves along with the rest of the crowd. A little while later, I stood up to wave to the vendor with the apple cider. Mine was long gone and I desperately wanted another (the start of a new obsession? Possibly).
He waved back and motioned he would be over so I moved to sit back down. A creepy feeling crawled over the back of my neck, and I fidgeted with the glasses resting on my nose.
My wavy hair was in a high ponytail—Ivy said it looked perfect for the game—and I resisted the urge to tug it down and hide.
I looked around, trying to figure out what would cause me to feel so… off all of a sudden.
And then I saw him.
Zach was sitting in the bleachers, several rows over and up. I met his stare and something passed between us. Something I didn’t like. He really hated Romeo and now by extension he hated me.
He had a large bruise on the side of his jaw and his bottom lip was slightly puffy with a red split on the side.
He didn’t do anything really. He didn’t mouth any foul words or snarl and show his teeth. He just sat there and stared… his eyes empty and cold.
A chill worked its way up my spine and crawled slowly over the rest of me.
“Everything okay?” Ivy asked, breaking the spell he seemed to cast.
I jerked away and bl
inked, trying to brush off the horrible sense of foreboding that wrapped around my neck. I faked a smile for Ivy and bobbed my head. “Great.”
The vendor stepped up beside me and I paid for another cup of cider, and then he wandered away. The crowd cheered and I yelled along with them, not really sure what went down on the field.
I resisted the urge to turn and look at Zach again. When I couldn’t anymore, I peeked over my shoulder where he was sitting.
He was gone.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Romeo
I was the worst kind of ass there was.
I took her out for pancakes. I held her hand beneath the table. I made love to her. More than once.
None of it was a lie.
But didn’t it start out that way?
I didn’t seek her out. I was ordered to be tutored by her. Then I was challenged to sleep with her. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. I mean, it was just sex. So I made an effort to get to know her.
And that’s when things got complicated.
My world seemed to collide with hers. We were two people with completely different lives, yet she pulled me in anyway. And now here I was, caught. Ensnared by a situation of essentially my own making.
How could I tell her about the initiation? After everything she told me, after everything she endured at such a young age? It made me sick to my stomach that there was any type of similarity between me and that seventeen-year-old punk that took her virginity.
But there didn’t have to be. I’d already made up my mind. I chose her. The decision was finite even though I knew it might cost me a lot. I would do right by Rimmel. And I would do right by myself.
Starting now.
I arrived early in the locker room to get ready for the game. No one else was here yet, and I wanted to take advantage of it to have a talk with Coach.
He looked up from whatever he was doing at me hovering in the doorway and motioned at the seat in front of his desk. “Looks like you got something on your mind.”
“I’m out of Omega,” I said, deciding not to mince words.
His eyes lit with surprise and he tossed aside his pen. “You know your path into the NFL would be a hell of a lot easier if you weren’t.”
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