Our Secret: A College Bully Romance (Golden Crew Book 1)

by Belladona Cunning

  Only my life would become this complicated. The house Hunter lives in? It's the same freaking house that Traven pranced like a peacock in front of on our date. At least, now I know the reason he acted like that. Knowing my luck, when Hunter verbally pissed all over me that day outside Meece Building, that was probably the green flag waving in front of Traven's face.

  Son of a bitch.

  Growling softly under my breath, I step off the sidewalk, over the ruined petunia plant near the mailbox, and onto the cracked walkway. My feet hit, what seems to be, every uneven crack in the concrete, until I get to the base of the stairs and have to maneuver my way up them without falling through the dilapidated boards.

  You'd think with an asshole as rich as Hunter, he'd have the place fixed up, since they, I assume, are going to live here for the next four years. Rental homes are hard to come by in Golden Oaks, especially one this size and being right on campus.

  Spotting a dead potted plant, I can't stop the pettiness as I swipe it with my right hand and watch it fall to the ground, breaking on contact. A small smile leeches across my face. It wasn't a big victory, but at least it's something.

  Instantly, I feel bad for doing it. Hey, what can I say? It's not in my nature to harm things that aren't hurting me in return. And while Hunter may be throwing his weight around, that little plant did nothing to me.

  Heaving a sigh, I battle with the thought of going to pick it up or forgetting it and knocking on the door. Before I can turn around and go retrieve the poor plant, the front door creaks open, and a familiar face smiles back through the opening.

  "You want to go pick it up, don't you?" Leo Sutton gives me a shit-eating grin like he knows me so well.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," I quip, my eyes betraying me as I peer down at the broken plant out of the corner of my eye.

  "Never could handle breaking things. Stepping on a flower always made you tear up."

  "Did not," I rebuff his accusation, making a deep, belly laugh escape him.

  "Come here, you!"

  He waves his arm for me to come hug him, and the action is so surprisingly normal that I find myself willingly stepping into him. A sigh falls freely from my lips as I snuggle into his chest and wrap my arms around him.

  Leo and I have always been friends. You could actually say he and I were closer than Jenna and me. I've known him since I was six-years-old, and he and I “dated” when we were in the third grade. If I didn't have Hunter, I had Leo. Neither one nor the other left me by myself for too long.

  After he and I dated, for a measly three weeks, we knew we were better off as friends instead of boyfriend and girlfriend. So, it was easy to cut ties that way before it became even weirder.

  It hurt leaving him behind when I left sophomore year. And because of the regret I felt at abandoning his friendship, all because he was friends with Hunter, I haven't been able to talk to him since arriving on campus.

  He steps out of my hold, his hands wrapping around my bicep as he looks me up and down. A softness enters his gaze that he only ever had for me. "Why didn't you come see me when you got back, pickle?"

  I smile at his use of the nickname he gave me. Pretty mundane reasoning, too. I like pickles, and it just stuck.

  Shuffling my feet, I avert my eyes. "You know why."

  Leo flashes a sad smile and stays silent as he nods. No way he couldn't know why I did the things I did. What was I supposed to do? Befriend him again, even though he's part of Hunter's clique? May not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I do know that wouldn't go down very well with the head honcho.

  This is too deep for me. Pushing Leo's and my problem aside, I ask, "Is he here?"

  He looks back inside the house. For a moment, he listens to whatever the person on the other side of the door is saying. I can't hear whoever it is, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it has something to do with Hunter. When Leo turns back around to face me, he's wearing an unusual expression.

  "Are you sure that's a good idea?" he murmurs, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

  "Why do you say that?"

  He clears his throat, like he's about to reveal a big secret or something, then makes to whisper something, so only the two of us can hear. However, before he can say a word, a loud voice from behind tells him to let me in. He gives me this weird look but does what they say.

  Hesitantly, I look from Leo to the people that are standing inside. I see Easton through the open archway, standing by the counter. Zeke is sitting down on the sofa, his leg haphazardly thrown over the side as he stares at me in silence. His eyes trail me from head to toe as if he's trying to study me.

  Stepping inside, I dismiss Zeke altogether. Something tells me that's a jar of peanuts I don't want to open. The level of darkness wafting off him gives me the chills. Some bad shit has happened to him in the past. You know what they say, people understand like for like. I get him because I have darkness inside me as well.

  "So, where's Hunter?" I ask, getting straight to the point. The less time I'm here, the sooner I can get back to my apartment and get to Maverick.

  This will be the only time I seek out Hunter. And I wouldn't be doing it now if it weren't for him messing with my education. He has no idea what his little stunt has caused. He can get out of anything with barely a flick of his wrist, throwing his dad's money around like it's going out of style. I don't have that luxury. I don't have a dad who has this kingdom built around him that can support me.

  Everything I get, I have to work hard for.

  Easton steps out of the kitchen with a large sub in his hands. He gives me that lascivious smirk of his while taking a bit of his sandwich. How in the world he gets Jenna to drop her panties, I'll never know. I roll my eyes and bring them back to Leo, seeing him still staring down at me.

  He flicks his eyes in Zeke's direction, then back to me. "He's in his room. Down the hall, last door on the right."

  My heart stops. "The same room—"

  "Yeah, marshmallow," Easton chirps, flashing a wolfish grin when I peer over in his direction. "The same room he about tore that pussy up in."

  "Okay ... Ugh, that was disgusting," I retort slowly. "I'll just be heading back now."

  No one tries to stop me as I reluctantly make my way farther into the house. Something tells me I'm a mouse walking into the lion’s den, but I'm too flustered to think straight. I need to get answers. Find out why Hunter, out of the blue, is once again trying to make things more difficult for me.

  When I get to the door at the end of the hallway, a sudden case of the butterflies tries to release in my stomach. I had a hunch that night, but since everything that happened, I didn't get a moment to worry over it.

  This time, I'll be walking in there voluntarily.

  Shaking the nerves out, I decide that no matter how long I stand out here, it isn't going to change the inevitable.

  Hunter needs to get it through his thick head that I am going nowhere, and nothing he can do will change that. I have other more important priorities to think about, rather than spending my time worrying about mixed feelings.

  So, with a shove, his door opens easily and bangs against the wall, hard. I step inside without taking a moment to think about what I'm doing and slam the door behind me. When I look up, everything stops.

  My lungs freeze up. Heart creaks to a stop inside my bruised and battered chest.

  The only thing moving are my eyes as they eat up every inch of Hunter standing in nothing more than the droplets from his latest shower and a towel that should be deemed illegal.

  Lord, I swear there's steam rising off his skin, but I know I'm seeing shit. Muscles with a thin sheen of water give them a glossy effect, highlighting the dips and curves of each corded piece of perfection.

  My tongue feels like it's swollen to thrice its normal size. Stop looking, stop looking, stop looking ... Goddamn, he's so fine. My traitorous orbs keep eating up each inch of exposed flesh, and my tongue darts out and licks the lip I im
mediately take between my teeth.

  "Eye fuck me hard." His enriching, deep, gravelly voice causes my insides to melt and my eyes to jerk up to his, seeing a level of heat that nearly incinerates my panties. "But you better be ready when it’s my turn.”

  “Why?” I release breathlessly.

  He releases an erotic, low chuckle, each pitch feeling like silky fingers caressing my sensitive flesh. “‘Cause I’ll own that pussy of yours, and what’s even better? You’ll fucking beg me to do it.”

  I can't suppress the shiver that tingles up my spine. It's hard to think when my entire body aches for the only thing Hunter has ever provided. But I have to. There's a reason I came here, and by the smirk tugging at his gorgeous lips ...

  No ... I shake my head to get back in the game. "I'm not here for all that. I’m not here for you … in that way."

  A dry, raspy chuckle, filled with heat and need, vibrates his chest. "Oh, trust me, Lo, you'd know if I wanted you."

  Doesn't he? Shoving that thought to the side, I place my hand on my hip and face him dead on. "I'm here because your little friend, Professor Erikson, told me about this paper that I supposedly plagiarized." I stop, catching his pleased reaction. Not risking to open that can of worms, I press onward, "Is that what it's come to? Faking your assignments to get me in trouble?"

  "It got you here, didn't it?"

  "Well ... yes, I—"

  He takes a step forward. "It got you to stop ignoring me, didn't it?"

  Oh, shit.

  I counter his step, taking one back. There's no way I can allow him to corner me again. The last time we were in this room is a blatant reminder that whatever used to be between us—no matter what happened, or how pissed we are at each other—is still there. I can't take that risk.

  Holding my hand up, my entire body starts failing me when his muscles tighten, and he releases that low-timbered growl in his throat. "Stay right there, Hunt. I'm serious."

  It's like my mind has short-circuited, and I can only think about one thing while I'm near him. And Lord, I'm surprised I can think about anything with him wearing as little as he is.

  My eyes fall to the bulge behind his terry-cloth towel, and my body throbs in need.

  "Or what?" he challenges.

  I'm too busy thinking about what his challenge entails that I don't see the moment he strikes. When I do, I’m surprisingly barely able to maneuver out from within his grasp. His hands thump against the door, hard, and I turn around just as he looks at me just over the bed of his arm. The only thing I can see is his deep chestnut brown eye, swimming with emotion.

  They're all there: desire, pain, lust, hatred. There are so many, it's confusing me. "Hunter." I swallow hard, preparing myself to run at the last second. "What's going on?"

  Turning toward me, he relaxes against the door and crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn't speak, only spears me with his heated gaze, making it almost impossible to move, let alone breathe.

  Hunter hasn't looked at me with anything but contempt since I stepped foot on campus.

  And he completely blindsides me—and confuses me even more—when he asks, "Remember that summer you and I spent down by the creek?"

  He waits for me to say that I do, but I don't want to. Not because I don't remember, but because I remember it vividly. It was the same summer we shared our first kiss. The same summer, we finally accepted that our feelings were much deeper than anything platonic. He gave me so much that summer, and it hurts remembering it now.

  I hesitate in answering, but when I do, I know what I need to and should say would be what doesn't come out of my mouth. Ignoring Hunter or whatever he wants is what got me into this situation in the first place. But I can't. Bringing up the past is just going to hurt worse when I have to shove it back in its box.

  I lick my lips. "No, I don't."

  "Don't bullshit me." His eyes harden as he uses his shoulder to push up from the wall. "I am the only person you can't lie to."

  What sucks about that is he's right. Even though years have separated us, and situations have scorned, changed us as individuals, he's still the only person who's ever, and I do mean, ever truly known me. He wasn't fake. He wasn't doing it to receive something in return.

  That was just Hunter being Hunter.

  "Yeah, I remember," I mumble around a dejected sigh as I cross my arms.

  "Okay, so, then you know the promise we made, right?"

  My eyes meet his, not completely understanding where he's going with this. I hedge, a little wary, "Yeah?"

  Up until now, his face was open and honest—as if he was trying to get to the root problem we had. But just as quickly, he shut himself down, and the monster I've dealt with all year comes out to play.

  "Anything you want to tell me?" he asks, and I get the feeling this might be a trick question. That whatever he wants me to tell him, he already knows.

  Despite my better judgment, I decide to play stupid and go on the defensive. "Nope. The only reason I'm here is to tell you to leave me alone. Stop with this petty bullshit. If you have a problem, instead of trying to get me in trouble, come to me personally. Dammit to hell," I say, getting started on a tangent. "All you do is hurt and hurt and hurt. There's nothing good about you! You're ruining o—my goddamn life!" I stumble to correct myself.

  My eyes fall on the vein, becoming more pronounced in the middle of his forehead like he's physically holding himself back. His hands clench so hard his fingers start popping in rapid succession, making me flinch at the sound.

  He steps forward, having had enough. I step back ... and my foot hits a piece of discarded clothing, causing it to slip out from underneath me and my body to flail backward.

  In all my haste to get away from him earlier, I unknowingly put myself right beside his bed. And now, I fall right on top of it, my breath slipping through my lips with an oosh sound.

  I'm vulnerable, wide open for an attack.

  An opening he gladly pounces on.

  He's right there, taking advantage of my mistake. Within seconds, Hunter is straddling my waist with both knees on either side of me. He has one hand wrapped around my throat and another holding my hands above my head.

  The look he gives me nearly melts the flesh off my bones. He looks like he wants to rip my heart out of my chest and eat it for dinner.

  Tightening his grip around my throat, a little part inside my brain starts misfiring. Even though I know he's not cutting off my air supply, I can't stop my hips from bucking upward as I try to fight for freedom. My mouth falls open on a breathless gasp.

  Hunter leans toward me until his chest is pressed flat against mine, and his lips are a whisper away from my ear. "You promised no lies."

  "I ... never lied." I grunt.

  "Lying by omission is still lying." He presses a kiss against the sensitive spot under my ear and barely lightens his hold on my neck. "You are going to stay here while I get dressed. And then you're taking me to see your son."

  My entire body goes cold, and the only thing I can seem to focus on isn’t the fact he knows about Maverick. No. That doesn’t even seem to register on my scale of fucked.

  Instead, it’s the pain that comes a heartbeat later when I really think about his words.

  Your son …

  CHAPTER 27

  "H-How do you know …" My stomach flips with nerves. Ugh, I think I'm going to be sick.

  His grin is on full throttle. "I know a lot of things, but for this particular secret, a little birdie told me. Now, let me see ... " He taps his sculpted chin with a lone finger as he peers off into space like he's searching for the right thing to say. Whatever they are, I know instantly, they're not going to be good. It'll probably be the nail in my coffin.

  "I believe the words were: my family needs to do the right thing. I have a duty. Oh …" He returns his gaze to mine, heat, and anger clinging to every word. "And that you've been doing this all alone since the beginning."

  Fucking ... "Duncan," I spit his name out lik
e a curse.

  Between one heartbeat and the next, Hunter explodes. I mean, completely loses his ever-loving mind. I can't help but cower away from the anger riddling his voice. "Whose fault is that, huh?! She's been doing it alone," he mocks sarcastically. "Of course, you've been doing shit alone because you never told anyone anything!

  "How could you keep him from his family, Harloe?! I may have treated you like shit there at the end, but we take care of our own. We’ve missed years of that boy’s life, and for what? Because I was an asshole? Bullshit!"

  He takes me off guard by getting all in my face, placing his closed fists beside my thighs. I've never seen so much violence and malice swirling in someone's eyes before, but Hunter—he'd make the devil weep as he asked for forgiveness.

  "You will take me to see him, Lo. It's about time he met some of his family." Hunter smiles, his expression morphing into malevolence.

  Some of his... He's missed... I crane my head to the side. "Hunter," I lick my lips, noticing the way his eyes drop to the movement before rising. "Who do you think his dad is?"

  Without missing a beat, he replies, "You know exactly who I'm talking about. He's the only obvious choice."

  I try to breathe past the pain rocking through my core. Looking into his eyes, I see the truth right there, out for the entire world to see. Even after telling him I never slept with Owen, he still believes I did. And with Maverick here, that adds to the proof his brother apparently has.

  "I never slept with your brother," I groan out, tired of the same song and dance.

  He stares at me hard. "Then how is there a little boy, Harloe? We never fucked without some form of contraceptive.”

  Tears build in my eyes. "You're never going to believe a word I say, so why even bother?"

  A sense of finality rests in my words. No matter how many times I try to prove my innocence, Hunter will only see things one way—his. Doesn't matter what I do, how many times I explain myself, he won't care.

  So, why should I?