All the Little Truths: A Standalone Enemies-to-Lovers High School Romance (English Prep Book 3)

by S. J. Sylvis

  That was all the more reason to keep my distance from Madeline. She and her mom were both in the middle of my family drama.

  I cut one glance to Christian and Ollie who were seconds from tearing off Piper and Hayley’s opponents’ heads before slowly standing up and lazily moving around tipsy, slutted-up girls who kept purring at me and the rest of my drunk peers. I got into my Range Rover and waited until I was halfway home before texting Ollie and Christian in a group text.

  Me: I left. Make sure nothing gets broken. I’ll be back to clean tomorrow.

  I tossed my phone in the cup holder, turning up the music to block out any incoming texts. I purposely waited to text them instead of telling them in person where I was headed, because I wasn’t ready for their incredulous looks.

  Ollie and Christian both knew me like the backs of their hands, and they both knew when something was wrong. I’d suspected they knew I was headed to Madeline’s, and I didn’t particularly enjoy lying to them, so avoidance was key.

  Pretty much what I should have been doing with Madeline.

  I chuckled at the lack of grip I had on the situation with her. She’d somehow crept into my head with her sobering blue eyes and beckoned me to invade her life. To take her privacy and throw it out the goddamn window. I wanted to know everything. She gave me small glimpses, like a peek at the sun behind dark, troubling clouds.

  It hadn’t always been easy to ignore her when she was fucking my best friend, but it was awfully easy to hate her when I blamed her for my mother’s pain. She took it, too. Madeline wanted me to hate her. She did things to make everyone hate her.

  But now, things were changing.

  She had it easy the first time she pushed me away. I let it happen. But I wasn’t going to make it that easy this time.

  We had a conversation to finish.

  And a game of one-on-one to complete.

  When I pulled into my driveway, I immediately peered up to her bedroom window. Her light was on, as usual, but I didn’t see her gazing down like she was a real-life Rapunzel or anything. If one thing was for certain, Madeline was not a princess. She was more like a wicked witch disguised as a princess with her pretty looks and golden hair.

  And if I knew her at all, she was likely planning on avoiding me because of how close I was to unraveling her last night. She knew I was caving in on her, and if she was feeling anything like I was—and let’s face it, she was—she wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight.

  I closed my car door with a loud slam, waiting to see if she would peek down between our driveways. But she didn’t. There wasn’t even a lingering silhouette behind her curtains.

  I chuckled as I jogged up to her front door, using the spare key that was always in the same spot. When I latched the door behind me, I massaged a spot over my chest, rubbing away at the cotton that laid between my hand and my heart. It was thumping harder than usual. Fast and loud, climbing with each step I took to her bedroom.

  My fist raised to knock, but instead, I dropped my head against the wood, placing both hands on the hard oak. “I know you’re in there, Madeline. Open up.”

  I glanced down to the light pouring out from the bottom of her door, grinning at the small shadow from her standing just on the other side. “Let me in.”

  I meant that both physically and metaphorically.

  “Why?” she asked through the wood.

  I chuckled. “Because we have a conversation to finish.”

  Her sigh was barely audible. “You should go home.”

  Did she truly think it was going to be that easy to get rid of me once she let me in?

  “I’ll break down the door if I have to.”

  I heard her soft laugh. “You will not.”

  “Try me.” I grew serious, and I guess she knew me better than I thought, because she opened the door after only a few seconds.

  The first thing I noticed was her glossy lips again. They were redder than usual, and I licked my lips as I continued to stare. Her blonde hair was silky and falling down over her perfect boobs. A thin, blue, long-sleeve shirt was the only thing keeping me from seeing her in that lacy bra that was taunting me from the top.

  I didn’t give her a chance to say anything as I strolled inside her room. I immediately went over and sat in her chair, grinning at the book on her desk. It was the same book I’d picked up a few weeks ago when I’d snuck in.

  “Doing a little naughty reading tonight, are we?”

  Madeline shut the door behind her and rested along it. She was trying to put as much space between us as possible. Her pink cheeks caught my eye when she glanced at the book in my hand.

  “What? No.” She shook her head quickly.

  I leaned back and started flipping through the pages. I could see her squirming, moving back and forth on those cute bare feet. “You know,” I started, slowly flipping the pages. “I didn’t know you were an avid reader, Madeline.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Eric.” Her arms crossed over her chest in her typical aloof behavior.

  We had made so much progress last night, much to my dismay, but she had me hooked. She truly did.

  I placed the book down slowly, not once taking my gaze off her. “Precisely why I’m here.” My heart was thumping faster, things inside my body going haywire with her standing across the room. I wanted her near. “You never answered my question.”

  I expected Madeline to play coy. To pretend she’d somehow gotten amnesia in the last twenty-four hours, acting as if she had no idea what I was referring to, but to my surprise, she didn’t. “I want you to go back to ignoring me. I don’t like this, Eric. Stop fucking prying.”

  “Mmm,” I hummed. “There she is.” Madeline rolled her eyes, crossing her arms even tighter across her chest. “There’s that prickly girl I’ve watched over the years, pushing everyone away when they get a little too close for comfort.”

  Her expression never changed. She just continued glaring at me, her bow-shaped lips pursing.

  I shot up from the chair, and her eyes widened just a fraction. If she had any room to move, I was certain she would have taken another step back when I’d gotten closer. “You said you didn’t want me to hate you anymore, right?”

  Her eyes lingered a little too long on my mouth before she darted her gaze away, and that was the wrong thing to do, because something was exploding inside of me. Want. I wanted her. I wanted her snarky little mouth on mine. I wanted to devour her and show her just how much I didn’t hate her.

  “This is you not hating me?” Her warm breath hit my face, and a rough swallow went down my throat. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re trying to intimidate me into telling you shit that is none of your business. That seems a lot like a hateful power play, doesn’t it?”

  I said nothing. Instead, I shot her a grin as I felt her nipples harden on my chest. Tread lightly, Eric.

  “I think you like where I’m standing. I think you like it a lot.”

  Now it was her turn to swallow. Her cheeks went back to that rosy color that told me all I needed to know.

  “Why are you afraid of your father, Maddie?”

  “You can’t intimidate me, Eric.”

  I smiled at her, inching my knee in between hers. Madeline tilted her head up, and our mouths were so close to touching I instantly got hard. There was no denying it now. Hate or not, I wanted her. I wanted her bad.

  “I can, Madeline. Or…” My grin faded as I felt the desire surging through my veins. “I can just work it out of you.”

  Her blue eyes became hooded, her chest rubbing against mine with heavy breaths. Was I really going there with her? Right now?

  “And if I tell you to stop?”

  I paused, my hands holding onto her waist gently. Just enough to let her know that I wasn’t going to overstep like her mother’s boyfriends that had no fucking manners. “Then I’ll stop. But just know…your body tells me a different story.” I pushed up against her, and a breathless
moan escaped her. Fuck. I needed to back off. If I didn’t, I’d kiss her. I'd kiss her so fucking hard and fast, just like at the frat party, and if she told me to stop, I might have to throw myself out the window to do so.

  “Quick,” I whispered along her ear, dragging my mouth away from hers. “Better make me hate you before I do something we'll both regret in the morning.”

  “Shh,” she snapped, placing a hand on my beating chest.

  I paused, pulling back from her just slightly. She was glaring at her window. I felt the change in the mood almost instantaneously. Her eyes widened, her hand pushing at my chest harder. She was over to her glass before I even had a chance to get my dick soft again.

  “Oh no.” The fear in her voice was back. It was the fear I’d heard the other night when that fucker was at her house. I strode over to her, ready to feel that red-hot surge of anger whoosh through my body, but it wasn’t who I thought it was.

  “Who is that?” I asked, glancing at Madeline’s pale face. She looked sick. The rosy blush on her cheeks was completely washed out. Please tell me it wasn’t another fucking pervert.

  The man was tall with long, lean legs and a muscular upper body. You could tell he spent hours in the gym, perfecting his physique. He had light-brown hair with a chiseled jaw and a large hand clamped down on Madeline’s mother’s arm like he was ready to snap it off. Wait. I recognized him.

  “Madeline?” I repeated. She gave me one glance, and it rocked me to my fucking core. “That’s your father, isn’t it?”

  Her tone cut right through me. “Yes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Madeline

  My hand was fastened down on Eric’s so hard I thought I might bruise him. He asked what was going on as I pulled him over to my bedroom light, flicking it off, and again as I threw us both into my dark closet.

  I hated the dark.

  But I hated my dad more.

  Fear was lying in my stomach like a bundle of sticks that were ready to be lit on fire, my father’s voice being the gasoline and my mother’s scream being the match. I knew how this was going to go. From the second I saw his hand on her arm, dragging her to the front door, I knew.

  “Madeline,” Eric repeated for the third time—or maybe it was the thirtieth, I wasn’t sure. I might’ve spaced out by the pleading in his voice. “Tell me what’s going on right now, and why the fuck we’re crammed in your closet with you on my lap.”

  I glanced down, which was stupid because it was so dark I couldn’t see anything. Was I sitting on him?

  I moved to climb off, but Eric’s hands pulled me back. A shiver went through me, making me tremble.

  I whispered, “I don’t want my dad to know I’m home.”

  I shifted on top of him, trying to calm my breathing. God. It was really dark in here. Heat started to prickle my scalp.

  I’m fine. It's just Eric.

  Rationally, I knew it was Eric. But the thing with trauma and fear? It had a nasty way of warping reality.

  “Stop moving like that,” he rushed out, his tone low and gravelly.

  “Like what?” I paused at the sound of my voice. It was all breathy sounding.

  He gritted into my ear. “Like that.” His hands crushed my hips to get me to stop moving. Oh.

  “I’m sorry, it’s just…” I tried to even my breathing. “It’s dark in here.”

  “Yes, I’m aware.”

  “I don’t like the dark, and I don’t like—” The sound of something crashing echoed through the house, and I jumped, feeling like a child again. “I don’t like what’s coming.”

  Eric’s hand unclamped from my hip, and I felt it wrap around my arm gently. His forehead rested on the back of my shoulder as he ran small circles over my skin. “Tell me what’s coming, Madeline. Why are we in here?” I wasn’t sure if he was trying to soothe me or not, but it was working a little. It worked enough for me to catch my breath.

  “Remember when you asked me if the reason I shut you out so long ago was because I found our parents sleeping together?”

  His thumb stopped moving for a second as he nodded against my back.

  “That’s true, but—” Another loud bang from downstairs and a brief shout from my father had me jumping again, so I rushed the words out. “There’s more to the story.” I took a deep, shuddering breath before spilling. “I wanted to tell you so bad. I wanted to tell you because I knew how wrong it was that they were cheating, but I couldn’t risk you telling your mom and then her telling my dad.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my dad is a psycho, Eric. He hits my mom. Then he leaves for months and comes home to apologize after his time away. Only to do it again. If he found out my mom was sleeping with your dad—or any of the men she brings home—I don’t know what he’d do. He hits her over stupid shit. He just loses it.”

  Just as the words came out, the shouts grew louder. They were upstairs now. I could hear the spook in my mom’s voice much clearer.

  “You need to calm down. Have a drink. Let’s just talk.” She was pleading, and that was never good.

  My chest was tight. My stomach filled with heavy, impending dread.

  My father’s voice roared, and I clenched my eyes shut, pushing my back even further into Eric’s chest. “Does Madeline know what you’ve been up to? How you’ve been slutting it up since I’ve been gone? What a great fucking example you’ve set for my princess.”

  Princess. I was the furthest fucking thing from a princess.

  “What a great example I’ve set?” My head snapped up as my mom’s fear-laced voice turned into something more powerful. This is the time she stands up for herself? “What about you?!” she screamed, her voice growing raspy. “You rarely come home, and when you do, you come home to fuck me like old lovers and then throw me around like a rag doll! I am so tired of this! So fucking tired. Of course I’m fucking other men! At least they have the decency to say thank you at the end.”

  Slap.

  A soft whimper escaped me, and Eric was hastily moving me off his lap. I panicked, grabbing onto his arm so hard he very well could have been bleeding.

  “No!” I whisper-yelled. “You’ll make it worse!”

  Eric stopped as I pulled him back farther. His body heat was surrounding me, his spicy cologne invading the entire closet. “Madeline, I know I’m not your mother’s biggest fan, but I cannot just fucking sit here and listen to a man hitting a woman who’s not even half his size.”

  “Eric, please!” I pleaded, pulling him back to where we once were. “I promise you will make it worse. He’ll get angrier, and he’s scary when he’s mad. His rage is endless.”

  “Has he hit you?” His voice was a bite to my very flesh.

  I hesitated before answering. “Once.” I pushed away the memory, my hand absentmindedly going to my cheek as if the mark was still there. “I got in the way.”

  “Madeline.” I was facing him now, on my knees, so our faces were level. My eyes had adjusted some in the pitch black, but all I could see was his outline. His hands found my face, and although they were rough to the touch, he held my cheeks like they were made of glass.

  “My mom made me promise to hide if this happened again. And to never ever come out of my room.” I shook my head. “He’ll stop. He will. He’ll say sorry. They’ll fuck.” I choked on my words and pushed like hell to get my tears to evaporate. “And he’ll leave us alone again, and things will go back to normal.”

  “You mean normal as in locking your bedroom door so men don’t come in here to get a taste of you?” Eric slowly dropped his hands from my face, and for a moment, I was left feeling completely vulnerable. But then he pulled me into his body and placed me on his lap again. My closet was big, but the space we were tucked in, behind the rack of shoes, was barely big enough for us both. His legs hit the wall in front of us, and mine hit the wall beside us. We were tangled up in each other, but instead of it making me antsy, it made me feel safe.

  “So, this is why,”
he whispered into my hair, his head falling onto my shoulder again. “This is why you shut me out? Because you were afraid I’d tell my mom and she’d tell your dad?”

  My mother and father were still yelling. He was accusing her of all sorts of things, and she was urging him to calm down. It was a lot like being on a merry-go-round—a fucked-up one with rusty carnival animals that didn’t stop spinning until someone got hurt.

  “Yes,” I whispered. “I couldn’t risk it. And I couldn’t fathom still being your friend and not telling you. It felt wrong.”

  Eric muttered something as we continued listening to my parents. My father hadn’t hit her again, not yet, but their voices were growing louder. Like, right-outside-my-room loud.

  “Where the fuck is Madeline? I’ll just ask her. She won’t lie to me.”

  Wrong. I would very well lie to him. My father didn’t know me at all. We were complete strangers, although I could play the innocent-daughter part very well when he was around.

  My heart started to beat a little faster. My throat began to close. I couldn’t breathe. I tilted my head up, looking for an escape, but there was nowhere to go. There was no other oxygen source. It was just Eric with me inside my closet as I hyperventilated.

  I choked for air, and Eric shushed me. “Turn around and put your hand on my heart.”

  My chest heaved as I choked out, “What?”

  Eric quickly swiveled my body so I was facing him. My legs went on both sides of his hips, so I was straddling him, but I was too concerned with not being able to breathe to care much about it. His palm wrapped around my wrist as he took my hand and crept it underneath his shirt. His chest was warm to the touch, and the skin underneath my fingers had a special feel to it—like nothing I'd ever felt before. Soft, but coarse. A little comforting, but dangerous all the same. His words wrapped around my body like a familiar cocoon. “Do you feel my heart beating?”