Shameless (Loving Fallon Book 1)
Page 11
“Who’s that?” I hear Nick ask.
“Her aunt,” Blake replies.
They both look at me expectantly, waiting for me to clarify why I’m so unhappy.
I stay silent, my mind a chaotic mess.
“So a nude photo you can handle, but your aunt rattles you just by being here?” Nick asks dryly.
~*~
That evening, I’m scrubbing the kitchen floor with an old toothbrush—Catherine’s way of punishing and humiliating me. Now that she’s left for her shift at the hospital, I can stop, but I have nothing better to do. I don’t work tonight, and I haven’t heard from Blake or Nick. They were probably suspended, and I’m a little worried about Blake. If his parents are already upset with him about Camilla, I can only imagine how they’d reacted to the news of him being suspended for fighting. As for Nick, I’m guessing that his dad won’t care.
I still can’t believe that they’d been fighting…over me. I’m not sure how I feel about it, and I’m worried over how they’d gone after each other like they had. I wonder what had destroyed their friendship.
My back is starting to hurt, so I set aside the toothbrush and stand, stretching my stiff muscles. I’m calling it quits with the floor. It looks clean enough and should pass Catherine’s inspection tomorrow. Since I’ve been at it for hours thanks to being home all day, I head for the bathroom and start a hot bath to ease my muscles. The principal had sent me home for the day because of all the commotion over the photo. He’d made it clear to Catherine that it wasn’t a punishment, but that it would be wise to avoid any further drama for the day. He claims to be looking into the matter of the photo himself, but it doesn’t change anything. I’m aware that the photo is now out in the world forever, and I’ve already come to terms with it. My face isn’t all that clear in the photo, and a picture of my breast isn’t that big of a deal—at least not to me.
Later that night, I’m sitting on my bed working on homework when I hear a soft tap on my window. I start with surprise and glance at the alarm clock sitting on the dresser. It’s past eleven. I hurry to the window and draw back the curtain, knowing that it has to be Blake or Nick. Moonlight reflects off of blond hair.
I push open the window and stand back. Blake easily pulls his body up and over the edge of the windowsill, and then lithely straightens his body before turning and closing the window. When he faces me again, his brown eyes roam over me with interest. I’m wearing a tank without a bra and a pair of short, women’s boxers.
“This ok? That I’m dropping in like this?” he whispers cautiously.
I smile, pleased that he’d come to see me. “My aunt is gone, so it’s fine. Come sit and tell me what happened today.” We walk over to the bed, and he politely waits for me to sit before he sinks down next to me. “I take it you were suspended?” I ask as I study the bruise on his jaw and the small cut on his lip.
Blake stretches out his legs, avoiding my gaze. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry. How mad were your parents?”
“Pretty mad since I couldn’t play tonight.” His head turns, and he looks at me searchingly. “How are you doing?”
“Me? I’m fine.”
“Were things bad after I left?”
“The principal suggested I go home for the day so that things could calm down over the weekend.”
Blake’s eyes sharpen as his shoulders stiffen. “It’s not going on your record or anything, is it?” That picture isn’t your fault, far from it,” he says darkly.
“I’m not in any trouble,” I assure.
He looks relieved, and he reaches for my hand, sliding his fingers through mine so that we’re holding hands. “Was your aunt pretty mad?”
“A little.” She’d been pissed and had given me a long list of cleaning duties for the weekend.
Blake sighs. “That picture has Camilla written all over it because it’s something she would do. I heard it came from a disposable phone, so she’ll probably never get in trouble for it.” He looks at me with a hint of confusion. “I don’t understand how you can be so calm about it.”
“It can’t be taken back.”
His eyes roam over my face. “No, but it’s okay to be upset over it,” he says gently.
“Blake, it’s just a picture, and it’s not that bad. There’s not much to see anyway.”
“You completely mystify me,” he says with wonder etched across his handsome features. “Every girl that I’ve ever met would be in tears, and here you sit, shrugging it off.”
“I just don’t see the point of dwelling over something that I can’t change.”
Blake looks momentarily impressed until his expression turns grim. “I thought I’d handled Camilla, but it looks like I need to rethink my strategy.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not going to allow her to come after you like she is,” he says flatly.
“I can deal with her, Blake,” I insist. Blake shouldn’t be going after Camilla. All that’ll do is aggravate his parents and make his own life more difficult than it already is.
He grimaces. “You shouldn’t have to. This is my fault, Fallon.”
I shake my head. “It’s not your fault that she’s the way she is. You have every right to be with anyone you want.”
“If you think I’m just going to turn my back on this shit, you don’t know me yet.”
He’s determined to fix this, and I look at him questioningly. “What do you think you can do?”
“I’ve known her all my life, so I know a lot about her that others don’t.” He looks down at our interwoven fingers. “Camilla has two sides, the one she shows me, and the one that comes out when she’s feeling threatened or cornered. I don’t want to hurt her, but she’s not really giving me much of a choice.”
I move closer to him, touching his arm. “Don’t. Not for me.”
He looks up at me, his eyes burning into mine. “You don’t get it. You’re worth it, Fallon. If I have to choose, I choose you.”
His declaration has me staring at him. What exactly does that mean?
Blake clears his throat and averts his gaze as he pulls a black cell phone out of his pocket. The cover on it is very feminine with a purple, floral design. “Here, I got you something.”
My brow creases as I stare at the phone in his hand. Am I understanding him correctly? “You bought me a phone?” I ask.
He holds it out to me. “This way we can text back and forth. It’s yours,” he says quickly. “Even if this thing between us doesn’t work out, I want you to keep it. You should have one in case of an emergency.”
I frown at him. “You can’t just buy me a phone.”
“I already did,” he says with a crooked smile.
“I can’t accept it, Blake.”
“Sure you can. Everything has been prepaid. You won’t have to renew your contract for quite some time,” he assures.
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
“Fallon, I want you to have it.” The determination in his gaze tells me that this is going to be a long, drawn out argument.
I rise to my feet, walking to my window to stare out into the backyard. My mom had accepted money, drugs, whatever she could in exchange for sex. If I take it, that means I’m just like her.
I hear Blake walk up behind me. “Why can’t you accept it?”
Since I can’t avoid him, I turn around and find him staring down at me with disappointed eyes. I grasp for an explanation, because I don’t want to hurt his feelings. “It would just feel…weird.”
He looks confused. “Why would it feel weird? It’s a gift, Fallon.”
“I know, and I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I don’t need it.”
His eyes narrow, and he gives me a look. “Yes, you do. You don’t have a car, and you walk downtown to your job. You should have a phone on you, and pepper spray or something.”
How am I supposed to argue with that?
Blake reaches out and brushes a strand of hair away from my f
ace. “I’ll worry about you less if you have it on you. Please.”
I peer up at him, and I can feel myself caving to his plea. He’s really hard to say no to. “I’ll accept it on one condition,” I say finally.
“What’s that?”
“I pay you back.”
He sighs. “You are so stubborn,” he says affectionately. “Fine, but only after you get a car. Deal?”
“Deal,” I agree.
He leans down and presses his lips against mine, kissing me. My arms immediately slip around his waist as I tilt my head back, my lips parting so that the kiss can deepen. He’d recently eaten something that tastes like cherries, and the kiss is slow and provocative. Before it can grow out of control, I decide to end the kiss so that he can answer more of my questions. He protests, and I loop my arms around his neck, my face inches from his. As much as I’d love to makeout, the fight today is more important. “How did the fight start?”
Blake doesn’t say anything as his eyes linger on mine. I can tell that he’s trying to figure out what to say before he says it out loud. “Nick came at me. He has a short fuse.” Then, as if to distract me, his hands slide down to my butt as he teasingly begins to massage it.
“So he threw the first punch,” I press, ignoring his wandering hands.
“To be honest, I’m just as guilty. I kind of pushed his buttons,” he mutters.
“How?”
His eyes gleam devilishly as he cups my bottom with both hands, and he lifts me a few inches so that his hips are pressing directly into mine. “It doesn’t matter.”
I’m not about to push further, and I smirk at his diversionary tactics. “Why are you here so late?”
“I had to sneak out. My parents think I’m in bed.”
I’d like to mess around, but I know that he needs to leave. “You should go then,” I murmur.
He groans. “I know. One more kiss,” he insists. His lips lower to mine, and we share another kiss as he rocks his hips against me. He’s already growing hard, and this is going to lead to a lot more than kissing if one of us doesn’t put an end to it.
I laugh against his lips and untangle myself from his embrace. “Horny, much?” I tease.
He smirks. “For you, always.” Then he sobers and walks over to the window. “Text me anytime you want, Fallon.”
“You too.”
He opens the window and turns to me. “If you need a ride to and from work this weekend, call me. If I can get away, I’ll come for you.”
I nod and watch as he leaves. Once he’s gone, I sit on my bed and study the phone more closely. I can tell that he’d spent a lot of money on it, and I’m uncomfortable over that fact. The phone chirps in my hand, startling me. The screen glows, and there’s a little icon in the corner. I swipe at it, and a new text message pops up. It’s from Blake. Loved the outfit.
A grin stretches across my lips. Okay, so maybe I’m going to learn to love this gift of his after all.
Eleven
It’s my break, and I’m sitting on the bench outside the store Saturday evening, taking a much needed breath of fresh air. I haven’t seen Nick since the school office, but I know I’ll see him tonight if he works. He’s likely going to want to talk about the photo, and I have no idea how I’m going to handle that conversation. He blames Blake for it, and I don’t think that’s fair. I still can’t believe he’d gone after Blake in my defense. I think it’s in everyone’s best interest that those two stay far away from each other from now on. I don’t need them further complicating my relationships with them. I’m just now managing to get a grasp on how to handle their interest in me, I certainly don’t need added drama.
After work, I find Nick lounging outside the candy store’s doorway. “Want a ride?” he asks.
“Thanks.”
We walk through the tattoo shop and exit out the back, entering the parking lot. I’d noticed as we’d walked through the shop that Nick has a small cut on his lip. I sigh inwardly. If anyone would have told me a month ago I’d be in this predicament with two very sexy guys, I would have laughed it off with sarcastic disbelief.
We walk over to the motorcycle, and Nick looks at me questioningly. “Want to hang for a bit?”
I nod.
“My place?”
“Sure.”
I climb on behind him and wrap my arms around his waist, my hips cradling his ass. A zing of excitement shoots through me as the motorcycle roars to life. I love riding it, but I also enjoy holding onto Nick.
The ride goes by fast, and a short time later, we step into the trailer and make our way to Nick’s bedroom. I walk over and sink down onto his bed as he strides to his dresser, picking up a package of cigarettes. He grabs an ashtray and looks at me questioningly. “Do you mind?”
I shake my head. This is his home; he can do what he wants.
He opens a window before sitting down on the bed, the ashtray resting near his thigh. “Anything being done about that photo that’s circulating?” he asks without preamble, his eyes on mine as he waits for my answer.
“Too many people have it.”
Nick’s eyes slide away as he studies the window, a moody expression on his face while he lights a cigarette and starts to smoke it.
I draw my legs to my chest, draping my arms around my knees. “It’s not his fault,” I say in a careful tone.
“Camilla’s always been a bitch, but he should have known better and dealt with her before it went this far,” he says, his eyes sliding back to me.
“Camilla isn’t his responsibility. And I’m not yours,” I remind.
His eyes stay locked on mine, but he doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then he breaks the tense silence. “You don’t seem too upset over the photo.”
“There isn’t anything I can do about it,” I reason.
“True, but it’s out there now. That has to bother you somewhat.”
“It sucks,” I agree, “but I’m not going to let it get me down.”
Nick sets the cigarette in the ashtray. “He doing anything about it?”
“He says he is.”
“He better or I will,” he says with a soft edge to his tone.
“You’d do that?”
“Someone has to before the situation escalates.”
“You think it would?” I ask.
His mouth twists. “The rich tend to think they’re invisible, so yeah,” he says dryly.
I wonder if he thinks of Blake in that cynical way too. Blake might come from wealth, but I get the impression that he’d walk away from it all in a heartbeat if he could. “You were suspended for the day, so what did you do?” I ask, deciding it’d be wise to switch the topic.
He reaches for his cigarette again. “I just went to the shop. How did the rest of your day go?” he asks as he puts the cigarette between his lips and inhales.
I’m momentarily distracted as I watch his mouth. “I just cleaned around the house.”
Nick frowns as he turns his head to blow the smoke the other way before looking back at me. “You didn’t stay at school?”
“I was told I could be excused for the rest of the day. I think the principal was worried about more disturbances,” I explain.
Nick’s lips tighten. “The guys are going to harass you.”
“I’m expecting it.”
“You were upset to see your aunt,” he comments with watchful eyes.
“Who wouldn’t be upset in a situation like that?” I ask flippantly.
“I get the feeling that not much rattles you, except for her.”
I drop my knees and situate myself more comfortably, my legs folding to the side. “She doesn’t rattle me,” I deny. “I just don’t like her.”
“Why?”
“Why does it matter?” I counter back.
“I’m just trying to get to know you better.”
“You can do that without my aunt in the picture,” I point out.
“True, but considering you live with her, her presence has an ef
fect on you, so in turn, it affects me.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“I can tell when you’re upset, Fallon.”
I ease myself back so that I can sit against the wall, and I cross my arms defensively. “So?”
He sighs. “Fine, you don’t want to talk about her, we won’t.”
My phone chimes in my back pocket, letting me know that Blake has text messaged me.
Nick gives me an odd look and stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray. “Was that your ass that just beeped?”
I snicker and pull out the phone. “Yep.” I bring up the new text message and read it. You need a ride? I quickly send back, I’m good.
Nick’s studies the phone in my hand. “When did you get that?”
“Blake insisted on buying it for me, and I couldn’t say no,” I murmur. My phone chimes again, and I read Blake’s next text. You busy? I quickly type, Yes, I’ll text you later. Nick is oddly silent, and I glance at him as I slip the phone back in my pocket. “I’m paying him back,” I clarify.
“I see.”
He’s acting weird. “Do you think I asked for it?” I ask stiffly.
“What? No. That thought never crossed my mind,” he insists.
“I turned it down, but he was really persistent and insisted that I should have one in case of an emergency.”
He holds out his hand. “I can’t argue with that. May I see it?”
I dig it back out and hand it to him.
He swipes the screen to turn on the phone and looks at me questioningly. “Want my number?”
I smile. “Of course.”
He brings up my list of contacts, which is extremely short, and adds his number. He hands it back to me, and I tuck it away in my pocket. “You told me things were casual between you and Blake. Has that changed?” he asks.
“I’m not sure,” I say truthfully. “He’s not my boyfriend or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He reaches for the pack of cigarettes and pulls out a new one, rolling it between his fingers instead of lighting it. “So it’s just physical?”