Shameless (Loving Fallon Book 1)

by Delecroix, Cassandra

  I can’t help but snicker. It’s amusing to me that Blake’s dreading being crowned Homecoming King. “Poor you. It’s so tough being popular,” I mock.

  He plucks a leftover fry from my plate and flicks it at me.

  I giggle and swat at it before it can reach its destination—my face. “You couldn’t pay me enough to go to a school dance.”

  “So you’re going to leave me in Camilla’s clutches for an entire evening?” he asks, looking crestfallen.

  “Taking me to the dance would be like pouring gasoline on an open fire, so yes, you’ll have to deal with your ex for a few hours.” Am I jealous? Maybe a little, but I know he has no interest in her, so that makes it easier to decline his invitation. I know Blake well enough to know that he’s going to be absolutely miserable that entire evening.

  “What about the game?” Blake asks hopefully.

  “You really want me there?” I ask as I study him. I know football isn’t all that important to him, so I haven’t made any real effort to go to a game.

  “Only if you want to come,” he says with feigned nonchalance that I see right through. “You don’t have to since you know football isn’t my life or anything, but if you have nothing going on…”

  “I’ll think about it,” I tell him. He wants me there, but I’m not willing to commit just yet.

  “Adam’s throwing a huge party after the dance. You game for that? I have a stupid company banquet to attend with my family on Saturday, so that evening is already spoken for.”

  “I thought we weren’t going public,” I remind.

  He looks me straight in the eye. “I don’t really care what anyone thinks.”

  “What about your parents?”

  He doesn’t say anything.

  “Exactly. Why make things more difficult at this point if it’s not necessary?” I ask lightly.

  ~*~

  I climb through my window a short time later and move through the dark to turn on the light. Then I walk over to the dresser and set my backpack down. That’s when I notice that the two drawings Nick had given me aren’t sitting where I’d left them.

  Immediately suspicious, I open the first dresser drawer, scanning my bras and panties. It looks like they’ve been rummaged through. Alarm suddenly sweeps over me, and I rush to the mattress on the bed and lift the corner, searching for the stash of cash that I’d hidden. It’s where I hide all my extra money.

  I grab the wads of bills and quickly sit down on the bed, counting out every single one. I’m relieved to find that it’s all there, and I release a huge sigh of relief. As I neatly refold the bills, I think over how Catherine had been in my room, searching through my things. I’m grateful she’d just been nosy instead of after the money I’m saving, but I’m also deeply offended that she’d invaded my privacy.

  I’d better find a new hiding place, and I should also consider a doorstop since the door doesn’t have a lock on it. If Catherine ever tries to walk in on me, she’ll be pissed if she can’t enter the room, but I think I should be allowed the comfort of assured privacy. I decide it’s not worth worrying over unless it happens.

  Now that I’m in need of a new hiding place, my eyes roam the room until I finally hide the cash between the dresser and the wall. There’s just enough of a crack to slip it through, and it shouldn’t be too noticeable if Catherine comes back to snoop.

  After I strip down and climb into bed for the night, I let my mind drift to Blake, and a smile curves my lips. It hadn’t been as bad as I’d thought it would be confiding in him, and I kind of like that he worries over me—it makes me feel cared for. The thing is, there’s a fine line with Blake, and I have to be careful not to cross it. He’s a natural when it comes to wanting to solve other people’s problems, and I think if I’d allow him to, he’d probably start pushing money at me to make my life a little easier. I might be emotionally needy, but I’m not looking for someone to take care of me.

  Fifteen

  On Friday, I manage to track down Nick between classes. His long-legged stride is no match for me, and I call his name, drawing a few curious looks my way. Nick glances back, and when he spies me among the crowd in the hall, he sidesteps out of traffic and waits for me to catch up.

  “Hey,” I greet breathlessly.

  “Everything okay?” he asks immediately, his eyes searching mine.

  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “You never track me down,” he points out.

  He’s right, I realize. I typically wait for him to make the first move. I shrug, trying not to make my next comment much of a big deal. “So I’m switching things up.”

  His lips tilt upwards just a smidgen in the corners, but he doesn’t say anything.

  “Do you work tonight?” I ask, wanting to get down to business before the next bell rings.

  “No.”

  “Want to hit the game with me?”

  He blinks, completely caught off guard by my invitation. “You mean the homecoming game?”

  “That’s the one,” I confirm.

  “Am I just a stand-in until Blake is done?” he asks as his eyes narrow.

  “What?” I frown. “No, of course not. I’ve never been to a football game before, and since I don’t have to work, I’d like to stay out of the house this evening. I don’t have any plans with him today or tomorrow,” I add, wanting him to know that I’m being sincere with the invite.

  “Isn’t he going to the dance?” he asks.

  Now I grin. “Probably since he’s certain he’ll be named Homecoming King again.”

  Nick frowns. “He didn’t ask you to go?”

  “He did, but I said no.”

  “Why?”

  I roll my eyes. “Nosy much?”

  “Can’t blame me. Alright, I’ll go to the game with you. I’ll swing by and pick you up.”

  ~*~

  Later that evening, I climb into Nick’s car and close the squeaky door. I buckle my seatbelt and peer at him with disappointment. “Why didn’t you bring the motorcycle?”

  He pulls away from the curb. “I’m not leaving my bike in a parking lot full of idiots that can’t drive worth shit. I worked my ass off to buy it, I’m not taking any chances.”

  “You leave it with the idiots during the day,” I point out.

  “That’s in daylight. Nighttime is a different.”

  I watch him as he drives, admiring his profile. He looks really good tonight in jeans and a gray, long-sleeved shirt. I like how the color brings out the gray of his eyes. “I take it you usually don’t go to the games?” I ask.

  He slows down for a stop sign. “No.”

  “But you’re going because I asked.”

  He gives me a warning look. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  I smile to myself.

  Nick pulls into the school parking lot a short time later. “I’m sure the lot by the field is full, so we’ll have to walk from here,” he explains.

  I scan the crowded parking lot. “Looks like this one is almost full, too.”

  We find a parking space and lock the car, and then we begin walking down the sidewalk. The football field is located one block over and around the corner. The evening is a little on the cool side, and I’m glad that I’d decided to wear a sweatshirt tonight with my jeans.

  Nick tucks his hands in his front jeans pockets as he walks beside me. “You’ve never been to a high school game?”

  “No.”

  “What did you do when you weren’t in school?” he asks with interest.

  “I had a job waiting tables.”

  “What about friends?”

  “I didn’t have any.”

  Nick’s eyes slide to mine, and he watches me. “Why not?”

  I’m not ashamed of who I am. I might be unhappy with some of the choices I’ve made in the past, but at least I’m trying to lead a better life than what I’d had with my mom. I meet Nick’s gaze unflinchingly. “I had a tendency to sleep with their crushes or their boyfriends.”r />
  Nick doesn’t say anything, but he also doesn’t look away from me.

  “I was the school slut,” I say bluntly.

  He reaches out and touches my arm, causing me to stop walking. “Hey, you know that’s just a load of bull, right?”

  Now I’m amused. “I was there, I would know.”

  “There are a lot of people our age that explore sex and enjoy it with others. The only thing that set you apart from them is that people found out about it and put a label on you. Who you sleep with doesn’t define who you are, Fallon,” he says seriously.

  I look at him, momentarily impressed by the way he sees the world. “Are you secretly an adult posing as a teenager?”

  His dark eyebrows lift questioningly.

  I shake my head, slipping my arm through his. “You talk like you’re wise beyond your years.”

  We start walking again, arm in arm. “Some of us have no choice but to grow up faster than others,” he says.

  I silently agree with him.

  Now that we’ve turned the corner, the football field and bleachers come into view, and the street is bumper to bumper with cars lining it. “Wow, that’s a lot of people,” I say, instantly growing uncomfortable at the sight of so many strangers all crammed into one place.

  We leave the sidewalk and start walking along the grass to enter through the front gate. “The stands on the left are ours, the other side is for our rivals,” Nick explains.

  There’s a line, and it dawns on me that we have to pay to attend the game. “I didn’t think to bring any cash,” I tell him as my face reddens.

  “I got it,” Nick says easily. He pays our way, and then he takes my hand and leads me through the mingling crowd towards the stands.

  I peer at all the people, and now I’m extremely thankful that I hadn’t tried to come on my own. “Can we sit at the very top?” I ask hopefully.

  “I was going to drag you up there whether you wanted to sit there or not. I hate crowds,” Nick says under his breath.

  We make our way up the short set of stairs that leads to the stands, and then up the walkway to the very right. When we reach the top, we find a place to sit, and I see that the game is about to start as the rest of the empty seats begin to fill up. I spy Blake’s jersey number down below as he stands with his teammates. Blake is naturally charismatic, and he definitely draws attention in his uniform.

  I turn my attention on Nick. “Can I ask you something?”

  “I’m sure you’re going to even if I say no,” he says with a hint of humor dancing in his gaze.

  “How close were you and Blake?”

  He goes still, and he centers all of his attention on me. “Why do you ask?”

  I shrug. “I’m just curious. You both were friends and now you’re not. Were you really good friends?”

  Nick seems to think over his answer before responding. “We became friends in middle school, and things fell apart our sophomore year.”

  I’m disappointed when he doesn’t elaborate. “Were you friends with his friends?” I press, fishing for more information.

  “No. I never fit in with them, and they had no interest in hanging with me.” His eyes shift to where Blake and his teammates are jogging onto the field. “That’s the thing about Blake, he doesn’t care too much about what others think unless it’s his parents. We were friends regardless of what his friends thought.”

  “He’s a genuinely decent guy,” I murmur.

  “He is,” Nick agrees.

  “So why all the animosity between you two?” I ask. The polite thing to do would be to let the subject rest, but I’m a naturally inquisitive person, so of course I want to pry. Nick and Blake are about as opposite as can be, but yet I sense that they’d been quite close. What could destroy a friendship so badly that they would avoid each other completely?

  “I wouldn’t exactly call it animosity.”

  “You guys got in a fight,” I remind.

  “Because he blindly put you in a shitty situation,” he says as his eyes harden.

  “He can’t control Camilla,” I argue back.

  “Blake is blinded by the fact that he likes to see genuine goodness in people. It’s his one fault. It takes a lot for him to turn his back on anyone, and despite Camilla being a bitch, he’ll continue to give her the benefit of the doubt because he grew up with her.”

  “So something really bad happened between you two? Was it a girl? Was it Camilla?” I persist.

  Nick gives me a look that warns me I am treading on thin ice with the topic. “No, it was something I did that can’t be taken back,” he says in a flat voice.

  “Blake can’t forgive you?” That doesn’t sound like Blake.

  “Something like that.”

  “Would you fix it if you could?”

  His eyes shift as he watches Blake on the football field. “In a heartbeat.”

  I figure I’d better let the subject rest or I risk upsetting Nick more than I already have. I turn back to the game and watch Blake. Soon, our team is winning, and the bleachers are buzzing with excited voices and cheering. During halftime, Blake is crowned Homecoming King, and Camilla is crowned queen. I’m amused more than anything as Camilla beams at the crowd while Blake looks like he’s being tortured.

  Nick and I stay until the game is over, and we follow the crowd towards the gate. We then veer off towards the sidewalk instead of heading for the field’s parking lot. I slip my hands inside my sweatshirt pockets as we walk, and our shoulders brush every so often.

  “What are you doing tomorrow night?” I ask.

  “I work.”

  “How late?”

  “Nine or ten. You?” he asks, peering at me.

  “I have the night off. Want to go to a party or something?”

  He thinks it over and asks, “Who’s throwing the party?”

  “I don’t know. There’ll be one somewhere in the area.”

  Sixteen

  “So is this what you had in mind?”

  “Not really,” I say with a laugh.

  Nick and I are perched on a patio deck railing, sitting side-by-side as our legs dangle. I’m sipping from a plastic cup as we watch people our age milling around the backyard, and a few of them I recognize from school. Loud music filters out into the yard from inside the house, and there are people sitting around a bonfire, drinking.

  I’d been hoping for something wilder tonight, but this will have to do. At least I am slowly developing a good buzz. Nick, on the other hand, is just sipping a beer since he’s driving tonight.

  “Are you and Blake taking a break?” Nick asks from out of nowhere.

  His question surprises me, and I glance at him to see that he’s watching the bonfire. “What makes you ask that?”

  “This is the second night in a row that you’ve been with me instead of him.”

  “He has some banquet or something that he has to attend with his parents,” I explain.

  “Ah. They drag him to a lot of those. In that family, appearances are everything,” he mutters.

  I recall Blake mentioning that he has no one he can talk to. “Did he used to confide to you about them and stuff?”

  Nick looks at me strangely. “He’s talked to you?”

  I nod and sip my drink, preferring not to offer up any details. Blake had trusted that I wouldn’t divulge what he’d shared, and I would never betray him.

  “He’s never going to be happy until he stands up to them,” Nick finally says.

  “Do you think he ever will?”

  “Someday, if he wants something bad enough, he will.”

  Across the yard, I watch as a girl climbs onto a guy’s lap and starts kissing him. “You said you were different a couple years back. What were you like?”

  “I was a troublemaker. I had other friends besides Blake, but they weren’t really friends, just acquaintances that were bad influences.”

  “How so?”

  “It was easy for me to succumb to drugs and all that
shit. It was Blake who rode my ass about trying to stay clean if I didn’t want to end up like my dad. When Blake walked out of my life, it was the wake-up call that I needed, and I really started taking a hard look at where I was heading if I didn’t pull myself together. I cleaned myself up and cut all the temptations out of my life. Now I do my own thing and concentrate on building my future.”

  I’m quiet as I think over what he’d just revealed. Nick is so calm and intense; I can’t imagine him being anything else. I bet he was interesting in his wild days, but I really like the guy he’s turned into—the one that’s sitting next to me today.

  “This party is getting old,” Nick comments, letting me know that he’s bored and ready to leave. “My dad’s probably gone. We can hang at my place if you want,” he offers.

  I look down at my empty cup. “Let me snag another drink, and we’ll take off.”

  “You’ve had two.”

  “Two’s not enough.”

  Nick frowns. “Why do you want to get tanked?”

  I roll my eyes at him. “What else is there to do?”

  “We’ll find something. C’mon.” He sets his beer on the railing and hops to the ground. I watch as he holds his arms out to me expectantly.

  After setting aside my glass, I ease off the railing. Nick’s warm hands immediately wrap around my waist, helping me to the ground. I’m too aware of his body, and I step back immediately so that his hands drop away from me. I really need a distraction so that I don’t throw myself at him.

  “One more drink and we’ll go,” I tell him.

  “I’ll give you something to drink at my place.”

  Nick’s never offered me anything in the form of alcohol before. “Like what?” I ask suspiciously.

  He hesitates.

  His hesitation confirms that he has nothing to offer—at least nothing alcohol related, and I shake my head. “One drink,” I repeat firmly. Before he can protest, I turn and hurry back towards the house.

  My one drink turns into two shots before Nick drags me out of the house. He’d driven the car tonight, and I sink comfortably into the passenger seat as he pulls away from the curb.