“Swearing doesn't make you seem any older, just so you know.”
She hated when he used that condescending tone almost as much as she hated that he would never see her as anything more than a child.
“Is it because you don't want to kiss me?”
His eyes darted to her lips for a split second. “You're thirteen,” he reminded her as though it hadn't been brought up seconds ago.
She licked her lips, hoping to make them more appealing, “You didn't answer the question.”
Parker swallowed, watching her lips and tongue.
It made her swallow too, nerves finally hitting.
“I can't kiss you, Violet,” his eyes still remained on her mouth and his voice turned throaty, “It's not right.”
Violet took the initiative, doing the first bold thing in her life.
She balled up the fabric of Parker's shirt, pulled him closer, and brought her lips to his, ignoring the way her nerves were rolling around in her stomach and making her heart thump so loud it was all she could hear.
At first Parker stood stiff, then Violet began moving her mouth against his like she'd seen in the movies and he shuffled his feet closer, pressing his body into her.
One of his arms made its way around her waist for support and the other cupped the back of her head. That's when his tongue glided along the parting of her lips, easing its way in.
She couldn't get enough of him as their tongues danced together. Her arms wrapped around his neck, turning the kiss rougher, their mouths forgetting their rhythm, too desperate with wanting more and never seeming to be satisfied. His one hand gripped the hair at the back of her head.
It wasn't at all what Violet had expected kissing to be like; it ignited a part of her she wasn't fully aware existed yet.
The sound of a horn blasting down at the tracks had Parker jumping back, his palms out and to his sides, staring at her in panic before he cursed and made her promise not to tell anyone.
“I won't,” she vowed. She sheepishly gave him a crooked smile, “Can we do it again?”
He smirked, trying to hide it by examining his shoes.
“Maybe,” he mumbled.
Violet watched him get into his car and drive away, staring after it long after it had gone, trying to understand what had just happened and knowing she couldn't have been the only one it affected the way it had. But even more, she couldn't wait for it to happen again.
Parker did kiss Violet again, countless times.
She'd be walking by him in the garage and he'd tug on her wrist to draw her to him, or one time he stole one in her kitchen when she went to throw something away. A few times they'd kiss for hours in the backseat of her car.
It never went further than lips and tongues. Parker always stopped it when things became too heated and left immediately after, saying that would be the last time.
It never was.
Sometimes it would be weeks before he touched her again, and all Violet could think about was when they would kiss again. It even affected her school work the way she constantly thought about him.
Violet couldn't say for certain when it had happened, but she had fallen for Parker Stone to the point that there was no turning back.
He was branded inside of her.
Chapter 10
She Don’t Know She’s Beautiful
Sixteen-year-old Ava fumbled with her backpack as she exited the car.
“Let me help,” Wesley offered, moving the other strap around her shoulder.
She gave a weak smile, “Thanks.”
He tucked loose hair behind her ear and his eyes got that look they sometimes did when he was staring at her. The intensity and fierceness of it had a powerful effect over her.
“Don't mention it,” his voice had lowered as he watched a finger trail down her jaw after it finished tucking the hair in. “You nervous?”
“A little bit,” she confessed, keeping out the fact that “a little bit” actually meant her nerves were an avalanche piling over her.
“Aw, don't be nervous Ava,” Maggie cheerfully said, stealing Ava away from Wesley, who scowled, “You have us to show you the ropes.”
“It's still going to suck,” Violet warned, joining them as they walked toward the school.
Wes and Maggie shot her a death glare.
Violet held her hands out in defense, “What? I'm just being honest. High school’s not fun for everyone.”
“You don't find anything fun,” Maggie pointed out.
Violet didn't argue or appear to be offended, knowing they just had different ideas of what fun was and that there was no use arguing with Maggie, who always had to win.
“What's your first class?”
Ava handed Wesley the slip of paper with her schedule on it.
“Not bad,” he commented, examining it. “Hey, we have PE at the same time. Nice.”
That did not sound nice to Ava. Having the boy who consumed your every thought see you get sweaty and gross was nowhere near nice.
Although, last winter when she had caught a horrible stomach flu, Wes had taken care of her the whole time (despite her protests). There was nothing attractive about watching someone heave out their insides, yet it never deterred him from spending time with her. In fact, over the summer they were inseparable. The only times they weren't glued at the hip were when he practiced basketball, sparred with his dad, or she spent time with Maggie, who had been preoccupied most of the summer perfecting her driving.
“I'll take you to your first class,” Wes said, handing her schedule back.
“No, that's okay.” She didn't want him to feel obligated to watch over her just because she was a freshman and didn't know anything. “You should go find your friends.”
“Silly Ava, that wasn't an offer.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and steered her to the right, “It's this way. You don't want to be late to Ms. Havers. She'll lock you out.”
Violet and Maggie waved goodbye, Maggie yelling out that they’d meet up at lunch.
Ava looked back over her shoulder at her best friend, missing the comfort of having her there. Maggie always helped make things not so scary. Wesley would too if she wasn't full of butterflies every time he was around.
Wes slid his arm down and entwined his fingers with hers as they walked, giving them a squeeze.
Practically everyone they passed stopped to greet him either verbally, with a wave, or a fist bump.
Ava knew Wes was popular, she just didn't know he was that well liked. It didn't surprise her. People have always been drawn to self-confidence, and Wesley Baxter had it in spades.
They approached Ava's first class and a group of cheerleaders stopped Wes to talk about how excited they were for basketball season, flirting with him like crazy.
He didn't flirt back, but he didn't have to. All it took was that smile he had that took over his entire face and you were a goner. Nobody knew that better than Ava. She tried not to be jealous of the girls, who were far prettier and skinnier than her (she didn't want to be one of those girlfriends).
Not wanting to be late, she tried slipping her hand away from Wes's to go inside. Wesley tugged it back, bringing her right up against him and placing their conjoined hands on her lower back. He brought his lips down to her ear, “You good?”
She inhaled his scent, finding comfort in it, “Yes.”
He stayed with his head bent down for a moment, letting his lips brush along her hair, “Bye, gorgeous. I'll see you later.”
She nodded and he did that thing where he tucked her hair behind her ear and let his thumb and forefinger trail down her jaw, his eyes burning into hers.
Whenever he did that it made any doubt she had over how he felt about her vanish. Ava felt the eyes of the girls on her, probably wondering who the hell she was and if she was a threat.
Ava sucked her gut in more, hoping to conceal the extra weight she’d put on over the summer.
Not like that would make a difference, she would never loo
k like those girls. She enjoyed sugar too much; therefore, she had to deal with the fact that it meant she had more curves than most girls her age.
Wes let her go but she could sense him watching her, ignoring the questions the girls asked him while doing so.
She liked that. She liked that a lot.
Ava found her favorite seat in the middle of class. She found teachers tended to call on her less there. For whatever reason it made her the most invisible.
During roll call, Ms. Havers made a point of examining Ava when she called her name, wanting to get a good look at the girl who required special treatment due to her disability. Teachers always found her an extra hassle to deal with, an inconvenience, one that disrupted the flow of the classroom.
If Ava had her choice she wouldn't get special treatment. She preferred to go unnoticed, but her moms refused to let things be. In fairness, school had become somewhat easier since they had forced the schools to acknowledge her learning disability. It was still a struggle, except now it didn't have her in tears on a daily basis.
Before class was over, Ava made sure to memorize the number of the room she had next, not wanting to walk around with her schedule in hand and make it obvious she was a freshman.
Ava was too busy settling her anxiety as she walked outside after class to notice Wesley leaning against the wall next to the door.
“You're cute,” Wes said, taking her by surprise. His thumb swiped her lips, instantly making her forget, well, everything. “Your mouth always moves when you're concentrating too hard.”
Ava hadn't realized she did that, “Really?'
“Uh huh. When you're reading, doing math, writing, memorizing,” he counted off, smiling his irresistible smile.
It always stunned her how much he observed her. He seemed to know every little quirk, including ones she didn't realize she had. It was a little unsettling to know he watched her so much. Not because she didn't want him to, but because she feared for the moment he realized he could do so much better than her.
Her next class went the same as the first, including Wes waiting for her afterwards, except this time instead of walking her to her next class he escorted her to a deserted part of the school, where there were no classroom doors, “Where are you taking–”
Wes had her pinned to the wall before she could finish, his mouth claiming hers, his body grinding into her. She lost herself like she always did when he kissed her. Nobody else mattered but the two of them.
When he began nibbling along her neck she managed to speak, though she didn't know how, “What about class?”
“It's break. We have another five minutes or so.”
She had forgotten about that.
He was back at her mouth, devouring it so fast she could hardly keep up.
Over the summer, things had really heated up between them and they had surpassed heavy petting and dry humping, basically doing everything except have sex. The only reason they hadn't was because there was never a good opportunity to.
They were almost late for Ava's next class. Wes was waiting outside for her when it was over, propped against the wall. He pushed off it with his foot when she came out, his signature smile greeting her.
“Are your classes close to mine or something?”
“Nope. I end up sprinting to make it on time.”
“Oh,” was her only response.
Typical Wesley, always wanting to be her knight in shining armor. If only she could figure out if he did it because she appeared pathetic and lost, in need of a babysitter, or some other reason she couldn't seem to grasp. What did he get out of it?
After the next class, she finally spoke up, “You don't have to keep walking me to class. I can manage on my own.”
“I know, but I like doing it. I like taking care of you.”
Ava couldn't get over the way the girls dressed for PE. It was like the school sold toddler size uniforms with how tight and short they were. They even knotted the back of the shirt to better accentuate what curves they had. They finished the look off with half a tube of lip gloss.
Ava had no makeup on, as she had never gotten into it. To make it worse, she had accidentally chosen the wrong size, overestimating how big she was. The shirt made her have no breasts (which was pretty hard to do considering she spilled out of her c-cups) and was almost as long as the shorts, which were below her knees and baggy.
Inside the gym, her eyes scanned for Wesley. It was almost habit now, seeking him out.
She wished she hadn't. A group of girls were gathered around him. It was obvious they were flirting, you could read it in their body language. She was relieved to find Wes didn't flirt back. He remained friendly with them, cracking jokes she couldn't hear, only catching the laughter. She forced herself to look away. She would not allow herself to obsess over it.
Lunch wasn't any better.
Ava gestured toward the table Wes was at and the swarms of girls around he and the rest of the basketball team, “Is it always like that?”
“Yes,” Violet answered, not even glancing over at what she was pointing to. “It gets worse during basketball season.”
“Violet!” Maggie chastised, throwing an apple slice at her.
“What?” Violet looked at Ava with sincerity in her eyes. “Would you prefer I wasn't honest?”
Ava shook her head, “No, I prefer the honesty.”
She had always appreciated that about Violet.
“I was also going to add – before you jumped down my throat,” Violet snapped at her sister, throwing back the apple slice. She focused back on Ava, “He never flirts back. He's too obsessed with you to see anyone else.”
Maggie sighed, shaking her head, going back to eating her lunch, “So true. Even now he looks over here every other second. It's creepy.”
Ava didn't think it was creepy. She understood. She was the same way with him.
Ava felt awkward being the only freshman at a table full of juniors, but she didn't exactly have anyone else to hang out with. At her other school, lunch had been spent with her tutor to make sure she wasn't left behind, so she never had the opportunity to make friends. In high school they were having her meet after school Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays.
Before lunch was over Wes came over to join them, stealing a chair from another table and setting it next to Ava, eating whatever food she hadn’t finished yet. Wes was always hungry, but he seemed to grow inches a day so it made sense. He joked around with his sisters and when lunch was over he walked her to class.
Chapter 11
Blurred Lines
Parker watched his sister and the Baxter triplets get out of Maggie's car.
As they passed through the garage, he called his sister over to where he was fixing a broken go-kart.
The day after he graduated high school, Noah had informed him that he and Malik were thinking they needed an on-site mechanic and offered Parker the job, knowing college wasn't something he was interested in. Parker immediately accepted, loving every minute of it since. The best part of the job was that he still got to see Violet every day, even if it was in passing.
He kept that part to himself.
“How'd it go today?” He asked his sister, knowing all summer she'd been stressed about starting ninth grade.
“It wasn't so bad,” her voice was almost cheerful, which made Parker smile.
“Good. I'm done in an hour. I want to take you to dinner and hear all about it.”
Her eyes lit up.
Parker loved that he had that back, that their relationship was as strong as it used to be. He owed it all to Noah.
“Can we go to Fazoli's?”
“Wherever you want.” He knew the only reason she liked to go there was because of the dessert menu. It was the best in town, and nobody loved desserts more than his sister.
Ava happily gave him a hug before heading inside to join Wes and Maggie.
Violet stayed behind to check on her car.
He wiped the sweat that glist
ened on the top of his buzz cut.
When he'd buzzed off all of his hair Violet gave him so much shit for it. She made fun of him that he had taken his admiration for her father to a whole new level. Parker always defended that his was kept shorter than Noah's and that it felt better in the desert heat. She'd just smile at him in that coy way that always read, “I call bullshit, so I'm going to internally laugh at you about it.” He loved and hated that smile, it was sexy and infuriating all at the same time. Just like her.
“Feel good to be back at school?” He taunted, already knowing how she felt.
Violet hopped up on the counter near where he was working. He always made sure it stayed clear for that purpose.
“It was awesome. Can't believe I'm lucky enough to get to do it again tomorrow.”
Parker chuckled, admiring her long legs in way-too-short shorts out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t decide if he liked her eyes or legs the best. Both were works of art.
He went over to his tools that happened to be right next to her. He didn't need anything, he just wanted an excuse to get closer. It was a game they played but never acknowledged.
His arm brushed along her thigh as he switched tools.
In return, she brought her fingers out to touch the bare spot on his bicep, “When are you getting this done?”
His eyes went to the only patch of skin on his left arm that wasn't inked.
On his eighteen birthday Stevie gave him his first patch of ink and he’d been addicted ever since.
Now it was a way for the two of them to bond. Any time he figured out a design he wanted, Stevie happily tattooed it on. They'd chat about music and movies, which it turned out they had similar tastes in.
“Still not exactly sure what I want.” That was a lie. He knew exactly what he wanted for that spot, he just didn't have the balls to do it and knew it was the only thing that belonged there.
Her fingers trailed down his arm as they left to curl around the edge of the counter.
“Did it really seem to go okay for Ava?” He wanted it from her perspective, knowing she wouldn't hold back on the truth.
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