by Rachel Jonas
She settles against her pillow, glancing up at the clock on the wall. “Do you um … do you know where my phone is? I need to check in on Scar. She’s spending the night with Jules, but I was supposed to call an hour ago.”
Searching the bag hooked to the side of her bed, I find her cell. It lights up the second I grab it. A text that reads: ‘Yo, you good?’ from someone she saved as The Mistake. My guess is it’s Ricky.
“I’ll step out,” I say after handing it over.
“It’s fine.”
When I glance back in her direction, I see something in her eyes I’m not sure I thought I’d ever see. Something I’m not sure she should give a guy like me.
Trust.
I lower back into my seat. Something else I’ve noticed about her is the weird bond between her and Scarlett. It isn’t anything like mine with Dane and Sterling. I love those dickheads, sure, but I don’t look after them. Not like she does with her sister. Not like a parent.
She taps her phone screen a few times, first returning the text, I assume, and then holds it to her ear to talk.
“Hey,” she says, relief heavy in her voice. “You doing okay?”
I can’t hear the response she gets, but whatever is said brings a smile to her face.
“Good. And you ate, right?” There’s a pause. “And you thanked Jules for cooking?”
I was right. These are questions I would never ask my brothers. Ever.
“Ok, good. I’ll walk over and get you in the morning.” Another pause. “K, be good. Love you.”
The call ends and I lower my gaze, pretending not to be fascinated by their interaction.
“Thank you,” she says, placing her cell on the adjustable table beside the bed.
“You didn’t tell her what happened,” I point out.
Southside shakes her head. “Nah, kid’s had enough to worry about for a lifetime. No sense in having her lose sleep over this, too.” She thinks for a moment, then presses a hand to her forehead. “But, of course, she’ll read Pandora’s post. She’ll worry. I should’ve—"
There it is again. That fierce protection.
“She’ll be okay,” I cut in, encouraging her to relax. “Just shoot her a text, letting her know everything’s cool.”
Southside’s at war with herself for a moment, and I guess she wants to call, but eventually settles for taking my advice and types out a quick message instead.
Seeing how tightly wound she is, I nearly ask a question about her childhood but hold it. I’m not allowed to be interested in things like that.
“Ever stayed over in a hospital?” she pipes, smiling a little when she meets my gaze.
“Once,” I share. “Had my tonsils removed when I was seven. You?”
She nods. “More times than I can count. Mostly allergy related. In case it’s still a secret, my parents aren’t the most responsible people in the world. So, until I learned how to monitor what I can and can’t eat for myself, a lot of mistakes were made.”
She laughs after speaking, but nothing’s funny.
“That’s pretty fucked up.”
She nods, agreeing with me, but doesn’t speak right away.
The picture is becoming even clearer. She not only raised herself, she raised Scarlett, too. Because her parents didn’t care enough to do it.
“But you know what they say. What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, right?” The joke is meant to remind me of my own words from a few weeks ago.
“Yeah. Guess so.”
I’m quiet again, but not because I’m thinking about her childhood, but because I’m thinking about my own. The shimmer faded for me early, too, but not because I’d been abandoned like it seems Southside was. For me, it was learning that my father isn’t the god he pretends to be, discovering he’s a mere mortal with a weakness for blondes with big tits and nice asses.
Like Southside.
Usually, being reminded of her connection to my father would piss me off, but I don’t feel that now. All I feel when I think about it is pity, imagining what he must have promised her—money, admission into CPA, and who knows what else.
Of course, she’d take that deal. Hell, my own mother fell victim to Vin’s game. For her, it was never about money, but rather a means of getting out of the small town where she grew up and everyone knew her as Boone Landry’s oldest daughter. She hadn’t seen much of the world and fell for every slick lie that fell from the bastard’s lips. My grandfather—being a man who doesn’t hold back—told me the whole story. How my dad came in, played nice just long enough to swoop Mom off her feet, then brought her north, to a city where she knew no one, to the city he runs and she has no allies.
Like I said, he’s a predator. He separates his prey from the herd, then conquers.
When I glance up, Southside’s dozing. She looks so damn innocent, like the scared girl I believe she keeps hidden on the inside. I think back on what she said, about being creeped out by hospitals, and I stay in my seat despite having made up my mind to go. If I’m going to leave her, this is the time to do it. But instead, I settle in, sliding off my shoes and propping them on the edge of her bed. She stirs a little when I disturb the mattress, but doesn’t wake.
Seems she’s faced most things in life by herself. Guess I just don’t see why spending the night here should be one of them.
‘She okay?’
I smile when Dane texts out the blue, proving that despite my best efforts to bring my brothers to the dark side, they’re better than that.
‘She’s fine. Sleeping,’ I shoot back.
‘Cool. Need anything?’
My eyes go to Southside again and I take a breath, realizing that my feelings are changing.
‘T-shirt and sweats,’ I answer. ‘Looks like I’ll be here all night.’
@QweenPandora: Word on the street is NewGirl was rushed to the hospital tonight, amidst the craziness of the Monster Bash. No updates from any of TheGoldenBoys, but we’re all praying our girl is okay. With KingMidas missing in action, my best guess is he’s staying at his girl’s side. When I know more, you’ll know more.
Later, Peeps.
—P
Chapter 33
BLUE
“I know you said you’re not mad, but I’m seriously sorry. Like, eternally,” Lexi grovels, bringing a laugh out of me as I adjust the straps of my swimsuit.
“Dude, if I was mad, believe me, you’d know,” I assure her.
She secures the towel around her waist and slumps on the bench facing our gym lockers.
“Yeah, but if I hadn’t been sloshed, I would’ve been able to keep a better eye on you, and—”
Her sentence cuts off when the girls from the dance squad pass by, casting their dirty glances our way as usual.
Once they’re out of earshot, Lexi sighs before continuing. “If I’d been sober, I could’ve told someone your purse was in my car, and they could’ve gotten your Epi. I just—”
“Seriously. Stop,” I say with a laugh. “I’m alive. No harm, no foul.”
She nods in agreement, but it’s clear she still holds a ton of guilt. I get it, but it isn’t warranted.
“Fine,” I sigh. “If you want to make it up to me, meet me here after tryouts today. I need a little more swim practice before Mrs. C. evaluates us for the quarter.”
Lexi’s expression doesn’t change, but she nods. “Deal.”
“Come on. Let’s get to the pool.”
She follows when I yank her off the bench. Then, the smell of chlorine gets stronger the second we exit the locker room and pass through the double doors. We’re two of the last to make it out, so, of course, every eye shifts toward us.
Mine, however, go straight across the pool, meeting West’s emerald stare. My chest flutters when he smirks a little, then lowers his gaze to the water.
No wicked glare. No intimidating stare-down. Just that one, smoldering look that now has my heart racing.
And I may as well confess, I’ve been … looking
forward to seeing West this hour.
I know, I know. Feeling anything for that dick is a heinous crime, but it’s my current reality.
Things with him are … different. I think it really hit home how different when I awoke in the hospital yesterday morning to find that he’d stayed. Sure, he looked super uncomfortable in that tiny chair, and he was way too tall to fit his whole body under that hospital blanket, but … he stayed.
All night.
It shouldn’t have meant as much as it did but knowing neither of my parents would’ve even shown that type of dedication, I guess I took West’s gesture to heart.
I force myself to look toward Mrs. C. as she explains that we’re near the end of this unit. With West’s help, I’ve gotten over my fear somewhat and graduated from treading water to actually swimming less than a week ago. Which means I stand a chance of passing this semester.
“Ok, hop to it!” Mrs. C. announces, and the next second, we’re all in the pool.
I’ve gotten into the routine of getting in at the shallow end, and then waiting for West to swim over. Today is no different. As he pops up from beneath the surface, pushing water from his eyes and face, I’m aware of how much deeper I breathe as I watch it run down his chest and arms.
Usually, he just starts barking orders, but not today.
“Hey,” he says first, leading with an actual greeting.
I try not to let on that I notice it’s different.
“Hey,” I say back.
It’s weird. Like, I’m not sure how to act around him now. He feels it, too. The awkward tension. I see it in his eyes. I suppose you can’t touch someone the way we’ve touched each other and not see things change. Guess it’s a good thing we stopped when we did. Even if my body still hasn’t quite accepted this fact. Every inch of me wanted him the other night. Had it not been for Parker barging in, there’s no telling what would’ve happened.
“I uh … I guess we should get started,” he finally says. I nod, agreeing.
First taking a deep breath, I plunge beneath the water and get my entire body wet and acclimated to the temp. When I pop up and clear water from my eyes, he’s staring. Not at my face, but at my boobs.
I can’t help but to wonder if he’s thinking about it, too—what could’ve happened at that party, the missed opportunity.
“Should I maybe try making it across?” I ask, pointing from the four-foot marker on this side to the one on the other side.
The question seems to draw West from whatever thoughts he’s having, and he focuses again.
“Sure you’re up for that?”
I’m confused by what he means.
“Um, should I … not be up for that?” When I smile, he glances at my lips before his gaze flickers back to mine.
“You could’ve died Saturday,” he reminds me.
I shrug awkwardly. “Yup. Could’ve, but I’m all good now. So—”
My smile tightens and he is clearly not amused. The stoic look he gives tells me he’s not so convinced. It also tells me … he’s concerned, and I’m not really sure what to do with that.
“Don’t you think you should take it easy?” he pushes. His voice is low and stern, which, surprisingly, draws a laugh out of me.
“Relax. I’ve been dealing with this my whole life. Once I get meds and the episode passes, I’m in the clear.”
He’s still not buying it.
“What are you gonna do? Hold my hand during basketball tryouts this afternoon, too?” I ask, still smiling.
He still isn’t smiling.
“Skip it,” he says all authoritative-like. “I’m sure you can talk to one of the coaches and get them to let you do a run through next week instead, considering.”
“What?” I scoff. “No! I’m fine.”
I’m sure, to him, it sounds like I simply want to go to tryouts, but the truth is that I have to go. According to Dr. Pryor, at least.
“I think you’re pushing it,” he states firmly.
“West—”
“I know your mom isn’t around, and your dad probably doesn’t even know you didn’t come home Saturday night, but…”
He pauses and I hold my breath, seeing something I never expected.
It seems West has been … affected, traumatized by what happened over the weekend.
“You don’t remember how sick you were,” he adds, holding that same stern tone.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he even cares a little.
I don’t mean to, but I find his hand beneath the water and hold it. It feels wrong. It feels right, but still, I let go quickly.
“I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time,” I fill him in. “Which means I know my limits. If I didn’t feel one hundred percent, I’d speak up,” I add. “In fact, I feel good enough to even meet Lexi here after tryouts, to make sure I’m ready for Mrs. C’s evaluation.”
His brow twitches, but he doesn’t speak. I’m pretty sure he has plenty to say, but instead, that tense look remains in place. When he barks an order, things feel a little more like normal.
“Down and back,” he commands. “One time.”
He steps back and I eye him, fighting a grin. “You sure you don’t wanna grab me some floaties?” I tease.
His jaw tightens.
“Seriously,” I add. “I think I saw lifejackets in the—”
“Shut the fuck up and swim,” he cuts in, clearly trying not to smile.
I take the lap from one side of the shallow end to the other, feeling super accomplished when I touch the tiled edge of the pool. Pushing my hair behind me, I glance up at West where he’s standing beside me.
“Was that good?” I ask, already knowing I’ve improved tenfold from when we first began.
He nods once. “It was decent.”
“Whatever,” I laugh, rolling my eyes when he downplays my performance.
“I’ll admit you’re getting better, but your form still needs work,” he scolds me.
“Which I already know. Hence the reason Lexi’s meeting me here later,” I remind him. “I just need a little more practice and—"
“Yeah, those plans are canceled,” he interjects, drawing a frown out of me.
“Excuse me?”
His eyes darken when they land on me. “If you fail, guess who gets blamed,” he reasons coldly, but I’m not buying his excuse. It feels like there’s some other hidden agenda.
“Mrs. C. made you my responsibility,” he continues. “So, I’m seeing this through myself. No way I’m putting my rep in Rodriguez’s hands.”
My chest rises and falls when his command frustrates me. He doesn’t even blink and I know that, regardless of whether I cancel with Lexi or not, West will be here.
“Whatever,” I say again, too infuriated by his arrogance to come up with something more intelligent than that.
“Down and back,” he orders.
I glare at him and ready myself to go again.
“And keep your head down this time.”
“And kiss my ass this time,” I mumble to myself.
It isn’t until I see him grin in my peripheral that I realize he heard that.
“Just name the place, Southside,” he teases, responding to what was never meant to be an invitation. When I meet his gaze, he eyes me in that lust-ridden way of his.
And just like that, I’m thinking things I shouldn’t be thinking, aware of the need to put space between us. So, I take off into the water, knowing his eyes are glued to me.
Keep it up, King Midas, and we’re going to get ourselves into more trouble than either of us are ready for.
Trouble I’m starting to think might be worth whatever hell there will be to pay afterward.
Chapter 34
BLUE
“Good job, Riley. The official announcement won’t be made for a few days, but in case you’re wondering, Coach Ryan and I already have our eyes on you,” Coach Dena assures me.
She pats me on the back, and it feels better tha
n I remember being praised for my performance on the court. I’ve always loved the game, but I’d accepted there was no room for basketball this year. Guess being forced into it by Dr. Pryor is just what I needed.
I say a few words to the other girls who tried out, then grab my phone off the bench. I shoot Scar a quick text to make sure she’s at the diner doing homework—seeing as how I need eyes on her at all times now—then make my way to the locker room.
I’m exhausted, but the pushy bastard I love to hate is meeting me soon. So, I shower quickly, then get into my bathing suit for the second time today.
Exhausted, I’m dragging a bit as I close my locker before making my way to the pool. The heavy door slams behind me and my steps hesitate a moment. All because I wasn’t expecting West to beat me here, but he did. He’s sitting on the edge in his dark trunks, staring down into the water where his legs hang over the tiled edge.
I swallow hard when he peers up, because it hits me that it’s just us here this time. Historically speaking, things between us go awry when left to our own devices—the locker room, Homecoming, the Halloween party—but I’m convinced this will be different.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
I don’t say a word as I walk over and step into the pool. It’s odd being here without the chatter and splashing of the entire class. West, on the other hand, seems perfectly fine with it just being the two of us here now. Adding to the strange vibe, the tall windows along the upper half of the space have gone dark, seeing as how it’s after five and the sun has practically set.
“You’re early,” I comment, pushing my hands through the water to get acclimated to the temp. West slips into the pool next, walking toward me. I try to keep my breaths steady, but of course it doesn’t work. Never does around him.
“Just told Coach I had an appointment,” he shares.
I’m sure he didn’t mean for this to happen, but his answer makes me feel like, I don’t know. Like I might be somewhat important if he lied to be here. Then again, it could also be what he said earlier. That his grade rests on me passing, too.