“I’ll think about it.” I liked one of the places that hosted sip-and-draw nights, where a group of folks came together to paint one scene and sip wine. I thought that was a cool way to attract people to the gallery.
“By the way, I probably won’t be here when you get home. I have a meeting with Train’s mom about the debutante ball.”
I should at least warn her that a few students knew who she was, which meant parents would know she was an erotica author. “Mom, word spread on Friday that you’re Casey Stewart. So be prepared.” I wasn’t sure how many kids knew, but the football team had been salivating over her work.
She sat back down in front of her laptop. “How? Did you say anything?”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Not a word. Train was reading your book in computer class on Friday morning. I didn’t ask him where he got it, though.”
“His mom might read. But my books are in stores. So any backlash for you?”
“I think the school would rather talk about my football tryout.” Then again, maybe word hadn’t spread yet about my mom. “I’ve got to run.” I darted up to my room and snagged my bag then left.
When I finally arrived at school, I was perspiring but not dripping with sweat. Maybe the steamy weather was growing on me. Cars were parked in the lot, and students gathered in groups, while others headed in the air-conditioned building. I didn’t see any sign of Reagan or Elvira or even Train.
I trailed behind a group of girls who were talking about the debutante ball. At least today, kids had moved on to other juicy gossip rather than whispering about my pathetic public display of kicking a football.
The halls were light with traffic for a Monday morning as I made my way to computer class. When I rounded a corner, I came face-to-face with Nina.
Her auburn hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, and her makeup was painted on to perfection. “So your mom writes smut for a living. Is that why you’re a slut and attacked Train in the weight room on Friday?”
So much for not getting any backlash about my mom’s profession. “Someone is quite jealous.” I skirted around her scrawny frame. I wasn’t about to get into it with her.
She caught up to me, digging her long red nails into my arm. “You won’t get Train. I’ve been asking around about you. You’re nothing. I own this school. And I’ll do what I can to make sure your life is hell.”
I got in her face. “Bring on hell, then.” I stuck my nose in the air and left her standing in the hall with her mouth open.
Snickers and snorts zipped up and down the hall from nosy bystanders.
She could burn me at the stake, spread rumors, or do whatever she pleased. I wasn’t about to let her or anyone else get to me. Besides, I’d seen girls like Nina in the other schools I’d attended. Most of them were all talk.
Mr. Salvatore nodded at me when I entered. “Good morning, Ms. Smith. Have you and Train come up with your app for your project?”
“We’re working on it.” Liar. Our preliminary report was due this Friday, and the mood Nina had dumped me in might have been what I needed to light a fire under Train’s ass.
More students piled into class. None of them were Train or even Elvira. As I headed to my desk, I sent a quick text to Elvira. Where are you? Then I pulled out my notebook and pen. A minute later, her response popped up on my phone: Running late.
Reagan bounced in, her hair loose and flowing, and wow. For the last week, she had worn her hair in either ponytails or braids and dressed conservatively in cute capris and cotton shirts. Today, she wore a short skirt, exposing tanned legs, wedge sandals, and a shirt that dropped to her butt and hugged her curves. She beamed from ear to ear as though she’d gotten laid over the weekend.
“You look amazing,” I said.
She blushed. “Thank you. I decided to let my hair down, literally and figuratively.”
“Does your awesomeness have anything to do with a guy? Maybe Austin?” She’d been quite territorial, telling Nina to stay away from Austin.
She hung her arms over the back of her chair. “Austin and I hooked up at the Music Farm on Saturday,” she whispered. “He asked me to the ball. By the way, we missed you. Elvira said she texted you, but you were busy.”
Busy brooding and being frustrated over Mom, school, and Train. “After Friday, I needed some time to recharge. The first week of school was crazy.” I wasn’t lying.
“Are you going to the debutante ball? Maybe with Train?”
“Ha. You’re funny.” If my mom was going, then I should go too, and I was curious to see what a Southern ball was all about. “Tell me more about Austin. Why haven’t you guys hooked up before now?”
She shrugged a small shoulder. “I’d always been afraid to approach him. He’s such a man whore. But on Saturday, something between us clicked.” She sighed with a dreamy look. “His eyes are like melted chocolate, and he has a smile that makes my stomach flutter.”
I knew that feeling all too well, only the guy I was swooning over had the greenest eyes I’d ever seen and brown, shaggy hair that curled at his nape. And the way he’d handled my body in that weight room had soaked my panties. I still couldn’t figure out why he’d pulled away, though.
Reagan studied me. “You know Train likes you.”
I busted out laughing as I sat back in my chair. “What planet are you on? Have you seen how he talks to me or treats me?”
“That means he likes you, but he’s afraid. Nina screwed him up. Give him a chance. He’ll come around.”
I doubted that, but I couldn’t help but flash back to Friday and his erection poking through his gym shorts. Yum.
No sooner had I sighed than Train swaggered in as though he didn’t have a care in the world, zeroing in on me and only me.
“See how he’s looking at you?” Reagan whispered.
I was concentrating on his denim-encased legs. Scratch that. I was riveted to his groin. I couldn’t get the image of his hard-on out of my head until I read his T-shirt. In bold black letters, the word “punk” popped out against the white fabric. What had me angling my head and pinching my eyebrows was that it appeared he had taken a red Sharpie and wrote the letter S in front of the word punk. Odd. He’d seen me draw my tagging signature in my notebook during class on Friday. But I didn’t understand why he would wear a shirt with Spunk written on it.
“I told you he wants you,” Reagan whispered. “I’ve known Train a long time, and his eyes are screaming for you.”
All I saw was a guy who was ready to start trouble.
Train dropped his notebook onto the desk. The sound reminded me of someone slapping bare skin.
“Where’s that novel you were reading?” Reagan asked in a mocking tone. “Did you learn anything?”
I loved her.
Train grimaced. “I learned plenty. Didn’t I, Montana?”
Reagan turned her head toward me so fast, I would be surprised if she didn’t get a kink in her neck. “Do tell.”
“There’s nothing to tell. Train tried a move or two from one of the scenes in my mom’s book then petered out.” I licked my lips. “Didn’t you?”
He raked his gaze over me. “I see you ditched the good-girl outfit. Please tell me you burned that ugly blouse.”
“In your honor.” I leaned over my desk. “What’s with the wording on your shirt?”
He pulled out his phone then proceeded to text something on it.
My phone vibrated in my lap. I opened the text from Train. I know what you did. So if you keep teasing me, I’ll make sure Principal Flynn knows that it was you who vandalized school property.
I shot a glare his way then typed a reply. How am I teasing you? And what do you mean I vandalized the school? I was dumbfounded to say the least.
First, my mom accused me of tagging. Now Train was under the impression I’d done something to school property.
You’re showing me your cleavage. And come on. You tagged the locker room door with “Train sucks.”
&
nbsp; Horror careened through me. I DID NO SUCH THING, I typed out in all caps. I’d wanted to tag but hadn’t.
The final bell rang, and a handful of students ran in.
Mr. Salvatore droned on as he wrote on the whiteboard. “This week will be more lectures. Also a reminder that your reports on your senior project are due this Friday.” He set down his marker then began talking about coding and HTML.
I took notes, but I also zoned out. It was weird that the locker room door had been tagged when I’d almost done it myself but backed out. What are you worried about? You didn’t do it. So what if Train thinks you did. But what if my mom gets wind and thinks I did tag when I promised her I didn’t? I wasn’t taking the blame for something I didn’t do. Not only that, Train was threatening me by going to Principal Flynn if I kept teasing him, and I could become the number-one suspect since Principal Flynn had my records from my last school.
My phone buzzed in my lap.
It was a text from Train. So how’s your jumanji after Friday?
I tapped out a reply. We need to talk. Meet me at my house after school. It was time to clear the air with him. I also had to find out more about the door. I couldn’t start asking around. Otherwise, I might look guilty. I didn’t need to have more people pointing the finger at me.
You want me. Don’t you?
I wanted to type out, Duh. Instead, I texted, I’ll show you how much when you meet me at my house after school. I didn’t want to give him any reason to not show.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his mouth drop open.
Bingo.
He growled beside me. I’ll be there.
Double bingo.
I tabled the mystery of who tagged the locker room door. Instead, I focused on taking more notes and learning how certain keystrokes returned a color, capital letter, or larger font. The class flew by as I got into the cool language of coding. I was also patting myself on the back that I understood the coding language. Maybe the class wouldn’t be difficult. Oh yes, it will when you have to work with Train. That was another reason to chat with him in private and not in front of friends, the team, or anyone else. Just him and me. Then I would have his undivided attention.
I peeked over at him. Pain and happiness waged war on his handsome face. Maybe he was sporting a boner, but I couldn’t tell. When class finally ended, he didn’t give me the time of day. But I would definitely have his full attention at my house after school.
Chapter Fourteen
TRAIN
I climbed the porch steps to Montana’s house. I’d been thinking about her all damn day. I’d been thinking about our weight room scene and how fucking great she’d felt against me when I’d all but attacked her body. And I couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d moaned ever so lightly, which had my dick permanently hard. Lastly, my mind drifted to our little tit for tat in computer class that morning.
I swore I’d read her text a million times throughout the day. I’ll show you how much when you meet me at my house after school. Out of all that, I was scratching my head at how shocked she’d appeared when I told her about the locker room door. She was the only person I knew who tagged. She’d even asked me about tagging on the first day of school. The funny part was I believed her when she said she hadn’t done it. One thing about Montana was she wore her feelings on her sleeve.
With a racing pulse, I was standing on her porch like a moron who wanted to be tortured. I hadn’t hesitated when she invited me over, although I had wrestled with the idea of not showing up. But I wanted to hear what she had to say and see what she had in store for me. I couldn’t avoid her forever. After all, my grade in computer class depended on her.
I rang the doorbell.
She answered, sucking on a lollipop.
Kill me now. Get your mind out of the gutter. I laughed as I entered. She was going to make it impossible for me to think straight. Was this her idea of showing me how much she wanted me? No. This was payback for coming on to her in the weight room. Holy fuck! As I looked at her mouth, all I kept imagining was what her lips would feel like around my dick.
She plucked the pop out of her mouth, the sound sending a stream of fire down to my groin. “What’s so funny?” Her tone was polite, a stark contrast to what I was used to from her.
“What do you want that you couldn’t tell me in a text or in school?” I asked through gritted teeth.
She shut the door. “Come with me.” She wiggled her round ass into the family room. Then she motioned with her lollipop to the leather couch that was facing the TV over the fireplace. “Sit down there.”
I hesitated for a second, eyeing her up and down. Her painted toes sank into the white carpet. Her short shorts were frayed on the ends, and her tank top stretched across her awesome tits. “I’m not sure about this, but I’ll bite.”
She muttered something as she stuck the lollipop back in her mouth.
I dropped down on the couch, hovering on the edge of the cushion, my gaze on her unwavering.
She sucked on the lollipop as she sat on the large square coffee table within an arm’s length from me. “What I’m about to do is something that needs to be done. I need your assurance that you won’t flip out.”
My breath caught in my throat as my heart rammed against my chest. I couldn’t say she was scaring me. I was more afraid of myself, and what I would do if she touched me. I nodded.
“I need to hear, ‘Yes, Montana, I won’t flip out.’”
I quickly scanned the family room then kitchen behind us.
“My mom isn’t home if that’s who you’re looking for,” she said.
I leaned forward. “I won’t flip out.”
She placed her lollipop on a silver plate beside her on the coffee table. Then she pushed me back against the couch and straddled me.
“What the fuck? Are you taking advantage of me?”
She pressed her fingers into my chest as she gnawed on her bottom lip. “We’ve been dancing around each other for over a week. I’m tired of it. I need to get good grades this year. I have to pass computer class. I can’t have you screwing up my chances to graduate. So I’m taking matters into my own hands.”
“I see that. But you can’t handle me.” Or maybe I couldn’t handle her.
She dragged a fingernail up my chest, along my neck, then stopped on my lips. “You’re so wrong. But that’s not up for discussion. We need to clear the air between us. I need you, and you need me. Or else we fail computer class.”
Goose bumps coated my arms as she ran her thumb over my lips. I wasn’t going to last a second before we were both naked. “Is this about you tagging my name on school property?”
“That’s the other reason I asked you over here. I want you to tell me what happened.”
My dick was beginning to betray me. “Again, you could’ve asked me this at school.”
“Sure. But then you would’ve only shunned me or made a snide comment. Then we would be arguing. This way, no one’s around. It’s just you and me. Do I have your undivided attention?”
I loved fucking with her mind. I loved the banter we had between us. I’d never dated a feisty girl like Montana. At the moment, I couldn’t focus on anything other than keeping a boner from happening, and I was failing miserably.
I touched the sides of her thighs, soft and silky. “I’m not exactly in a position to do much.” Well, I could have, given my strength, but I would have been a moron not to listen to what she had to say or see how she was about to torture me. “The floor is yours.” Or rather, I was all hers. Maybe after she was done with me, I would realize we weren’t good for each other or, even scarier, that we were good for each other.
My fingers coasted up and down her thighs. Her eyes became heavy as she rubbed against my groin.
I lost my breath, my mind, and almost my vision. I shaped her hips before my hands were underneath her tank. “Um, is this your way of talking?”
“Maybe.” Her voice was breathy.
“I like it,�
� I said.
She stopped moving on me. “Tell me about the locker room door.”
“Someone tagged a heart and ‘Train sucks’ inside the heart. I assumed it was you. You asked me about tagging the first day of school, and then I saw you drawing in your notebook. But why are you worried if you didn’t do it?” Something wasn’t right.
She picked at her tank top. “Because one of my paint cans is missing. I think I left it on the floor outside the door.”
“When the team returned after the game, there wasn’t a paint can anywhere around there. Besides, it’s not like Principal Flynn will send the can to a forensics lab.” I chuckled.
“Maybe not. But he has my school records from my last school with how I defaced school property.” She dropped her gaze to my stomach, which was showing because my T-shirt had ridden up. “He might assume it was me, and I can’t prove I didn’t do it.”
“Why do you tag?”
Her gorgeous blue eyes flashed with excitement. “It’s my way of dealing with things. Plus, I get a huge adrenaline rush when I tag. Some people get high on drugs. I get high on graffiti. And you irritate me. There, I said it.”
The feeling on my part was mutual. I was getting high being around her. She was slowly becoming my addiction.
She slouched in my lap. “But I swear I didn’t do it. I almost did. I stood in front of the door with my paint can and realized I couldn’t go through with it. I got thrown out of my last school because I painted an entire wall in the gym. I also promised my mom I wouldn’t tag. Then I heard voices in the hall. So I ran. Do you have any enemies?”
I dropped my hands from her. “Everybody loves me,” I teased.
Her tongue slid out to lick her bottom lip. “I don’t.” She wiggled on me.
“Wait.” I smirked. “You must. You jumped my bones as soon as I walked in.”
“If that’s the case, then you love me since you were all over me in the weight room.”
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