Dare You To Keep Me: HawkRidge High II

by Akeroyd, Serena

  When she went straight to the fridge, I wasn’t about to complain and tell her I could do it for myself. It was kind of nice having someone look after me for a change, and even if I didn’t eat with her often, I always ate whatever she had left in the fridge. She grabbed a big pan of lasagna, then headed over to the oven. Hesitating for a second, she asked, “Oven or microwave?”

  I was starving, so I murmured, “Microwave.”

  Her lips twitched. “It’s been a long time since anyone appreciated my food as much as you, Max. It’s good to cook for someone with an appetite.”

  Considering my father was a big man, her words came as a surprise.

  Unsure of what to say, I ended up saying nothing. She shot me a look. “He says years of eating food on post and the MRE rations make...” Her mouth tightened as she twisted around with a plate in her hand after serving out a huge portion of the pasta dish for me.

  “Makes what?”

  “When he eats my cooking, it gives him indigestion. At least, that’s what he says.”

  I reached up and rubbed my bottom lip. “Could he be right?” Something about the way she’d phrased it made me wonder if she thought he was lying or something.

  “Maybe. Who knows with your dad?” Her smile was tight again when she looked at me over her shoulder. “Wash your hands and take a seat. It won’t be long.”

  I did as she asked, okay with the silence that settled between us. Carrie didn’t talk all that much. At least, she didn’t normally. Today, it seemed like she was definitely deciding to rebel against her usual MO. Or had me sharing my past made her think she could be more open with me?

  Christ, I hoped not.

  She was a nice woman, too good for my father, but I wasn’t here to—

  I blew out a breath.

  What?

  Be nice to an unhappy woman who seemed to give a damn about me? Whose meal portions were staggeringly big, obviously to feed me? Who tried more than my own father did? Who’d believed me about something that many wouldn’t, and who was going to cover my ass with the general?

  What kind of cold bastard did that make me if I couldn’t just be nice? If I couldn’t just be friendly?

  Inwardly cursing Jessa, because this was, without a doubt, her fault, I cleared my throat. “Carrie?”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Yes, Max?”

  “Is everything okay?”

  Her lips flatlined for a second, then she whispered, “Not really, no.” She blinked, and I wondered if she was surprised she’d given me an honest answer.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  If it came out sounding awkward, then that was because it was. I felt awkward and uncomfortable as hell.

  She shook her head. “No. It’s okay, Max. This isn’t your problem.” The microwave pinged and she reached for a dishcloth to retrieve it.

  Within the minute, she had the dish in front of me where I was seated at the breakfast bar, and she moved around the kitchen. We didn’t speak as she started cooking again. Dicing onions, mincing garlic, and frying ground beef as I ate.

  She didn’t have to cook, didn’t have to keep me company, but I got the feeling she was doing it for herself.

  Was she lonely?

  I figured it made sense. She was a lot younger than my father, and she didn’t work anymore. I knew she was busy with all the crap his rank required of her—from what I was learning, a general’s wife couldn’t work, but just because she had a huge to-do list didn’t exactly make her life less lonely, did it?

  She was all alone in this big house most of the time, rattling around in it on her own because my bitch half-sister was here as little as I was, and my dad was either staying on post or gone. In the summer, when I’d moved here, I’d spent more time at this house because I hadn’t known Jessa, Sam, and Drew then, but ever since, I was usually at one of their places. I didn’t feel comfortable bringing them here, if I was being honest.

  This wasn’t my home.

  And it seemed like it wasn’t Carrie’s, either.

  The thought saddened me, and I got to my feet with my dish in hand once I’d finished up. It was scraped clean as I dumped it in the dishwasher, and I moved over to her and murmured, “Thank you for that, Carrie.”

  “You’re more than welcome, Max.”

  “What are you cooking?”

  “Fajitas for tomorrow.”

  My brows rose, and she saw the expression and smirked. “Thought I’d make something I wanted for once, and not your father.”

  “You mean you always cook for him even though he never eats at home?”

  She shrugged. “It wasn’t always this way.”

  Tension filled me. “It isn’t because of me, is it?”

  Carrie laughed a little as she shook her head. “No, Max, it was a long time before you.” She reached over and patted my arm. “You’re a good man, Max. Don’t be like your father and you’ll do great in life.”

  A little surprised by the bitterness in her tone, especially when she’d always seemed mostly frazzled by her life rather than disappointed, I only said, “I don’t know him enough to be like him.”

  “Lucy takes after her father.” Her lips tightened. “That says it all, doesn’t it?”

  I winced because Lucy was definitely a she-devil. Not that I could say that aloud.

  I cleared my throat. “I’m going to get some homework done, Carrie, before I crash. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She nodded and I drifted out of the kitchen, up the hall, and into my room. The house was empty except for us two, and to be honest, now that I thought about it, it usually was. Lucy had a curfew of her own, and she always skirted it by a few minutes. I wasn’t sure where she hung out, nor did I care, but I was always grateful when I didn’t run into her.

  I considered it a good day if I didn’t have to see her face.

  As I switched on my laptop with the intention of writing some code for a few hours, I thought about what I’d left behind.

  Jessa sleeping with Drew. Sam guarding them both like Cerberus at Hell’s gates…

  Me admitting I had feelings for another man’s girl.

  My jaw clenched when I tossed in Drew’s response to the meds he’d taken, to the fact that Derick had planted drugs in Jessa’s locker.

  Whatever else the upcoming weekend was going to be like, it certainly wasn’t going to be restful. Just the thought had me shutting down my laptop and heading to bed.

  I needed to sleep, needed to get some energy for the upcoming days, because they held an uncertainty I didn’t like and had no alternative but to deal with.

  ❖

  Jessa

  When I woke up between two sweaty bodies, I really shouldn’t have been surprised I was hot as shit. My skin glistened with it, and inside, I felt like I had a boiler blaring to life.

  Still, it felt good.

  Oddly good.

  As I tore my eyes open, I stared into the tiny space around me and saw the spartan quarters that Drew called home.

  It didn’t suit him, and I didn’t like that it didn’t suit him.

  Looking at him, I first saw the gold skin, taut muscles, and long limbs that made up his tall frame. His blacker than black hair—somehow all the darker because of the blue dye within it—was all over the place. A complete and utter mess. His bedhead didn’t come as that much of a surprise, to be honest, because he’d come to school with worse hair than that.

  Drew wasn’t like Sam, which was weird now that I’d seen his bedroom. I’d imagined it would be a mess. Lots of stuff everywhere and really unorganized. But it wasn’t. It was neat and tidy. And empty. Oh, so empty.

  Like his home life?

  It fit, I guessed.

  As I stared into his sweaty face, which gleamed even golder thanks to the morning light that was peeking through the curtains, I tried not to feel pity for him because he didn’t need my pity. Drew was loved, and if that love didn’t come from his family then it didn’t matter, beca
use they didn’t deserve him.

  Drew’s father and his grandmother had surely received some notification from the school that he’d had an episode on the field, yet where were they? I hadn’t been awoken in the middle of the night with an outraged squeak as one of his family members discovered us asleep on his bed.

  I hadn’t even been awoken by a text from his phone.

  As I stared at him, I thought about my to-do list. I’d dealt with checking my glucose levels last night and had dealt with my insulin after I’d headed to the bathroom to wash up some, but I knew I had to get up soon and start the task all over again. But I didn’t want to disturb his sleep or Sam’s. Didn’t want to jostle either of them just yet. I knew he must really need the rest after what had happened yesterday. So, instead of doing what I ought to, I couldn’t stop myself from pressing my forehead to his chest. The gentle sway as he inhaled and exhaled had me closing my eyes as it truly hit home what was happening here.

  Behind me, Sam’s warmth was an anchor, but in front of me, Drew’s presence was a wish come true; something I’d been plotting and striving over for months and months without ever being sure it would come to fruition. Yet here I was, here we were, and I was happy. So fucking happy that I was like a charged atom. I could go off at any minute.

  There was no shame.

  No fear.

  No recriminations.

  I didn’t feel guilty and wasn’t lost to just how ‘wrong’ this was. If anything, this was so damn right that it made it hard not to let out a very childlike, “Squeeeeeee.” Hell, I might just do that anyway when they woke up because boy, that was exactly how I was feeling.

  From my position with my forehead against his chest, I had a great angle of his abs and dick. Biting my bottom lip when I saw he had morning wood, I couldn’t deny that God hadn’t disappointed. Not with Sam or with Drew.

  It would have been a travesty if they hadn’t been packing down below, definite false advertising, but I was pleased to report they were both blessed. Not with a third leg or anything like that because who’d want one of those? They weren’t the only ones who watched porn. If a guy had approached me with a ten-inch dick. I wouldn’t have let him near me with a ten-foot pole.

  Hell no, I wasn’t letting anything that big inside me. Talk about a wrecking ball.

  “I can feel you thinking.”

  Sam’s voice had my lips curving. I didn’t wriggle around because I was comfy, instead, I wriggled my ass into him as he turned further onto his side so I could settle into him better. The feel of his front touching every inch of my back had me sighing with delight.

  His hand wedged between us and when he grabbed my boob, I bit deeper into my bottom lip.

  It wasn’t a move. Wasn’t something he made with an intention of taking things farther. I could tell he just wanted to hold me in a place he couldn’t normally.

  I understood.

  Totally.

  I was fighting the urge to cup Drew’s cock something bad, and only his need to rest kept that wild urge contained.

  I swore to myself that the next time I was in this exact position, I’d do whatever the hell I wanted.

  Whatever I wanted.

  The thought almost made me shiver with delight.

  “What are you thinking about?” Sam queried sleepily, his face pressing into the side of my throat as he mumbled.

  “About how happy I am.” As well as Drew’s junk.

  He tensed for a second. “You are?”

  “Yeah. I am.” I thought he’d tensed because he was nervous I wasn’t, but... “Are you?”

  “Fuck, Jessa, of course I am. I’ve been waiting on this for a lifetime.”

  My lips curved. “Silly. You haven’t known me all your life.”

  “Semantics,” he chided.

  “You’re the lawyer’s son,” I retorted. “You’re the one who knows the devil’s in the details.”

  I didn’t have to look at him to know he was rolling his eyes.

  “Do you two always bicker first thing?” Drew muttered, lifting his arm and covering his eyes with his wrist.

  Shit. We’d woken him up. Making a mental note that he was a light sleeper, and hugging that intimate detail to my chest, I told him brightly, “Nope.”

  “Only when Jessa is being pedantic.”

  Drew snorted. “That’s always.”

  I huffed. “I am not pedantic.”

  “Sure are,” Sam said with a chuckle.

  “Are you two going to gang up on me now?” I retorted with another huff.

  “Maybe in bed, but nowhere else,” Sam purred, and Drew snorted out a laugh.

  “Good one, bro.”

  “I thought so,” Sam congratulated himself.

  Grunting, I complained, “Didn’t think your egos could get any bigger.”

  “Well, you were wrong,” Drew teased, but he lowered his arm and tipped his chin down so I could see his face. His eyes were sparkling, and there was a loose relaxedness to his features that told me he was content and well-rested.

  That settled something inside me.

  Neither of my men had any regrets, and that was exactly what I needed to know.

  He reached down and rubbed a finger over my lip. “I get to see your tits,” he whispered in awe.

  My lips twitched. “You’re spoiling my buzz.”

  “Never,” he retorted, “just changing it a little so it doesn’t die out.”

  Laughing outright now, I pressed a kiss to his pec and murmured, “That’s one way of thinking about it.”

  Sam yawned as his arm squeezed my stomach. “What’s the game plan today? There’s that party at Crest Lake. Are we going?”

  “I want to see Drew’s grandmother.”

  Drew tensed. “Why?”

  “I want to visit with her and make sure she’s all right.”

  “You won’t bring up—”

  “Why would I? Anyway,” I told him softly, “she might already know. The school must have said something to them.”

  To Sam, he mumbled, “Pass me my cell, Sam. It’s on the nightstand.”

  Sam grunted as he reached behind him. “We need a bigger bed,” he groused.

  “Tell me about it,” Drew retorted. “This one hurts my back.”

  I bit my lip at that, because I knew if I offered to buy him a new one it would only be taken the wrong way. Just because I wanted to help didn’t mean he needed me to.

  Sam grunted again, and I heard his hand slapping down on the table before there was a noise that made me think he’d pushed the phone around a little. When there was a clicking sound, I knew he’d unplugged it, then he shoved it at Drew.

  I waited, wondering what he was looking for, then Drew snorted. “‘School says you were sick? What’s wrong?’”

  I frowned. “A text? He didn’t bother to call?”

  “No. He doesn’t,” he rasped, his bitterness evident. “We usually communicate this way.”

  “But you were ill! Are you sure? Check the missed call log.”

  I knew it was unlikely he’d made the call, not when Drew was so sure, but I wanted to be certain. How could Chris do this to Drew? Treat him like he didn’t exist? Ignore the school’s warning that something had happened during the game? It was beyond wrong.

  “No missed call, babe,” Drew told me gruffly, but I heard the disillusionment and disappointment in his voice, and I hurt for him. Hell, I hurt so bad that it made my eyes sting with tears.

  “Not even from your grandma?”

  “We’re not that close,” he excused.

  “You’re close enough to work yourself to the bone to earn money for her!” I retorted with a sputter, leaning back to glower at him before I realized that Drew wasn’t to blame here. He wasn’t the adult. Well, technically he was, I guessed, but not where his family or the law were concerned.

  Drew sighed. “She needs all the help she can get.”

  I wanted to scowl, so instead, I hid it and pushed my forehead into his chest aga
in, mumbling, “We’ll get her the help she needs.”

  But, I determined, if she didn’t speak to Chris about how he was neglecting Drew, hell, if she didn’t stop neglecting him, then she and I would be having a talk. I’d been raised to respect my elders, had been raised to be polite, but respect and politeness went out the window where the people I loved were concerned.

  “Are you going to be okay with her?” he asked warily, evidently hearing something in my voice. “I mean...”

  I knew exactly what he meant, but I didn’t have to like it.

  “I’ll be fine. I won’t cause a scene.”

  Not today anyway.

  But when I knew where she lived? And when the introductions had been made?

  Hell yeah, I’d make a scene.

  I wasn’t sure if he believed me, because he reached between us, pulled back, and touched my chin to tip it up so he could look at my face, then he studied me, tried to see if I was earnest or not.

  Well, I was.

  He wasn’t to know of my intentions.

  He blew out a breath. “If we have to, then we can visit her today.”

  I beamed a grin at him. “Good.”

  That had him rolling his eyes.

  “I need to get an appointment with the doctor’s office too,” he murmured pensively. “Coach wants a clean bill of health from me before I play.”

  “Wonder when they’ll be able to fit you in,” Sam stated around a yawn.

  I sighed. “I guess we won’t know about an appointment until we make the call. Who’s your primary doctor, Drew?”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. “The details are on the fridge door. I haven’t been to the doctor in fucking ages. I can’t even remember his name.”

  “So, it’s a ‘he’ at least,” I said drily. “That narrows it down some.”

  Sam snorted. “Sassy pants.”

  “I guess we should be grateful he knows who his doctor even is!” I retorted. “Although I’m surprised... I know for a fact you broke your nose last year.”

  He shrugged. “Didn’t go to the doctor.”

  I gaped at him, then unable to credit it, I surged upright. “You didn’t go to the doctor?”