Ugly Truths: A Contemporary YA Romance (Astrid Scott Series Book 2)

by Blake Blessing

  A pink and lavender floral blanket covered the bed, complete with matching pillowcases and decorative pillows. It screamed nineteen fifties, in the innocent Peggy Sue way. The rest of the room had similar tones and there were even twinkling fairy lights hanging to give the room that extra bit of teenage femininity.

  “Oh, I bet the bathroom is just as awesome.” I flipped the switch to the personal bathroom and sure enough, there was a continuation of pink and lavender flower buds dotting the shower curtain and towels.

  “All right, that’s enough. Come on out so I can get some homework done. I have to call Coach, too.” He grabbed my shoulders and steered me out to the living room. His body visibly relaxed now that it was around manly décor. It was all hilarious. A much-needed break in my constant state of worry.

  Worry for myself. Worry for Jonah.

  “Why is this one guest suite so…floral?” I snickered

  “The whole cottage used to be decorated in a similar theme. My mom thought it was how a cottage should look. When I started staying here instead of the house, I slowly changed everything in my bedroom and the parts of the house I actually used. The guest room wasn’t the top of my priority list.”

  Looking around the living room decorated for lavish comfort and posh status, no one would ever be able to tell that over a month ago, the room and furniture were wrecked with loose papers and bits of shattered porcelain blown all over the room. That was the night Rhys got into a fight with his dad, after finding out his dad had a sidepiece. In our wildest nightmares, we never would have guessed that sidepiece was my own dad.

  “Hey, what’s that face for?” He tipped my chin up and I gulped at the genuine care and concern in his eyes. This was no fluffy friendship for Rhys. It wasn’t for me either. I had this wild need to grab on to each of the guys and tighten our circle of friendship until we couldn’t live without it.

  “I had a momentary lapse and reality started to pour in.” Goosebumps raced down my arms and legs from such a small, light touch.

  The late afternoon light touched his eyes, and instead of the sky blue I was used to seeing, strips of bright cyan threaded through his irises. I was definitely an eye person. Studying human behavior was so casually addicting because of how expressive eyes were. Even the best actors still had a hard time masking strong emotion in their eyes. And right now, Rhys’ eyes were saying I mattered to him. That I was more than a constant annoyance, or an insufferable burden. It was intoxicating.

  “It’s all going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it, Astrid. Hell, Beck and Thatcher will make sure of it. For now, you’re safe. Your crazy mother isn’t going to break my door down to get to you, and even if she did, she would have to go through me. And Jonah’s with Beck. Which surprises me, but I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. So right now, no worries. Take the afternoon and work on your pictures. Relax. Have you given any more thought to what you’re going to do for your final portfolio?”

  I pulled away from his touch and snatched my bag on the way to the brown leather couch. For such decorative furniture, it was still pretty comfortable.

  “Ugh, no. Epic ideas are still eluding me.” I blew a strand of hair away from my face as I powered up the computer. Sometimes, when I was alone, I loved to flip through some of my old images. It gave me a sense of power and self-worth. To know I created something others valued, every shot killed a little more of the doubts plaguing me. Not that I was insecure or self-deprecating. I wasn’t, but everyone needed to have a little validation every once in a while. Instead of hearing from others, I got it from my art.

  “I’d like to say I could toss ideas back and forth with you, but if it’s not hitting someone on the rink, I’m useless. You want to call Thatcher?”

  For him to offer up bringing one of the other guys here during our time wasn’t his favorite thing based on the way the long groove in his forehead deepened.

  “He’s waiting to see if Trinity’s going over there tonight, remember? That’s okay. I’ll do some more research and see what speaks to me.”

  The next hour sped by in a series of clicks through Photoshop and unending page turns. I was in a relaxed state that only photography could provide. When Rhys tossed his book to the side, I knew our self-imposed silence was over.

  “Finally. I hate reading. Who cares about what’s actually on the periodic table? If you’re going to use that in life, fine. But there’s no way I’m going to pursue a career in chemistry. Why do I have to take it?” He stretched out in the yellow, embroidered chair and that delicious strip of his toned stomach peeped from under his shirt.

  I quickly averted my eyes and glanced back to the nature program we’d settled on. He liked to put something on that wouldn’t hold his attention while he read, but I loved this show. How could you not want to follow along with the family of beavers as they built their dam? I was completely invested in mother and baby beaver now.

  “You done with the computer?” Rhys jerked his head at my lap.

  “Oh, yeah. I was waiting for you to get done.” I closed it and gingerly set it on the oak coffee table. There were still grooves in the top from the fight Rhys had with his dad. Either his family didn’t care that there was physical evidence of their imperfect relationship, or his parents hadn’t seen it. Knowing the kind of relationship Rhys kept with his parentals, I was sure it was the latter. I’d never seen either in this cottage when I was here.

  “Scoot over. I’ll sit with you while we finish watching what happened to the baby beaver.”

  I made room for Rhys as he fixed a pillow behind his head and propped his sock covered feet over the other end of the sofa. What did I do now? He had me boxed into a neat corner in the arm of the couch.

  “That looks uncomfortable. Come here.” He held out a broad hand like it was no big deal, even though the simple request threw my nervous heart around as if it were at an out of control mosh pit.

  I took a deep breath. We were friends. Snuggling wasn’t something friends avoided or acted awkward about. I had enough awkwardness in my life, and shouldn’t needlessly heap more on for giggles.

  I slid my sweating palm over his and if he noticed, he didn’t comment. With a gentle tug I was stretched out beside him, wedged between his hard body and the cold, leather couch. He yanked on the plush blanket framing the back and flicked it over us. Although there wasn’t a chance in Hell I’d be cold. My body temperature from my insane heartbeat was enough to keep me in a perpetual state of sweat. If anything, I needed him to turn the fan on.

  “Relax,” he murmured and palmed the back of my head as he guided me to rest on his shoulder. Now that I couldn’t see his face and the show had my full attention, it wasn’t long before my body turned lethargic and my eyelids felt heavy. One of his arms held me to him and his fingers absently tracing random patterns over my sweatpants covered hip. It was all very hypnotizing, pulling me in a nice, deep sleep.

  The gong for a shot scored sounded, and I jerked against the hard surface under me. Hands pulled me back down, startling me enough that I pushed up. Looking down to see what was attacking me, I found a very large, wet spot on Rhys’ gray T-shirt. It was right over his peck. He had to feel the soaked material sticking to his skin. Only he didn’t seem to care.

  He grinned so wide, it was unnatural. For Rhys anyway. He was mostly stoic and serious, hiding his emotions away from the world.

  I groaned and flopped back to my original spot, careful to avoid the wet spot. It also provided an opportunity to discreetly wipe the drool from the skin around my mouth. Gross.

  “Why are you so happy right now. It’s weird.”

  “Because you look like a moody teenage zombie with crazy people living in its hair. I’ve never seen this look on you before.” He chuckled and the movement vibrated through my body.

  Burying my face in his chest, I groaned again. This time louder. I wasn’t a particularly vain person, but I wasn’t sufficiently awake to have this conversation while imitating a zombie.


  “You even sound like one.” His hand squeezed my side and it took all the willpower I had to remain silent.

  His hand smoothed down my thigh until he got close to my knee, and pulled my leg across his hips. My breath stuttered and I held very still. What was he doing? What were they all doing?

  “Rhys?” I dug my fingers into his chest by my head. I needed him to tell me what he was doing. No, I knew what he was doing. I needed to know why.

  “Yes?” He apparently wasn’t as affected as I was by our position. Who knew, maybe he often laid like this with random girls on Sundays. That thought seared my eyelids. This was ridiculous. I couldn’t be possessive of someone I wasn’t dating. Especially not several someones. What did that say about me?

  “What are we doing?” I mustered up the stray pieces of courage and glanced up at him. His eyes were burning and his brow was furrowed. I wanted to snap a picture. How many people could say they’ve been on the receiving end of such a look, it made them feel like they were everything? It was alluringly powerful and I wanted to remember it forever.

  “What do you want us to be doing?” His voice dipped an octave and a full body shiver rocked through my entire body. To my horror, he felt it and pulled me higher, at the same time settling me over him.

  He was going to think I wanted sex. Did I want sex? Of course I did. Who wanted to graduate high school as a virgin? I didn’t, but part of me felt like this wasn’t fair to Thatcher or Beck.

  He threaded strong fingers through my hair, massaging as he went. My eyes fluttered closed and my head dipped.

  “What you said about your first kiss, was that true?” He whispered, as if speaking aloud the words would have the power to break the moment. Surprisingly, they didn’t.

  “Yes. Beck kissed me at my first show in front of the crowd. It was a joke, but it was my first kiss.” I leaned into his hands working magic over my tender scalp.

  “Astrid?” He called and I met his gaze. “This is your real first kiss.”

  I expected his lips to slam down on mine, but they didn’t. He bent his head and he slowly worked his lips over mine. Firm, dry, and commanding, his mouth sipped, taking what I didn’t know how to give. But I was a quick study. I mimicked every move. When his tongue danced across my bottom lip, I returned the movement. When he sucked on my top lip, I caught his bottom in my teeth. I was intoxicated. Why did it feel like I was having an out of body experience? Why was every touch and caress so sharp in my mind?

  And why had I waited so long? I should have had my wicked way with him in the classroom if this was what I was missing out on.

  His hands landed on my thighs and removed any distance between us. With an upward thrust, his erection ground between my legs and I gasped. I throbbed with need. Heat shot straight to my core and my fingers and toes tingled fiercely.

  A magical hand danced over my belly and just when I thought he was going to go farther south, he pulled my shirt down and sat up. I turned my head and squeezed my eyes shut. This was everything right, and everything wrong all at the same time. This couldn’t go any further. As much as I wanted to have these experiences, I wasn’t a one-night stand kind of person. And if I went through with this, I would have had major regrets. Thank God, Rhys stopped. My poor muddled brain was on a vacation, and who knew what I would have done if he pressed further.

  His heavy breathing broke through my thoughts and I slowly met his gaze. His eyes were wild, and dark, telling me exactly how hard it was for him to stop.

  I wanted to speak, to tell him…anything, but no words came to mind. Anything I spouted would make this weird and I didn’t want my first almost sexual experience to be tainted by my brand of crazy. So I didn’t say anything. I pulled him back down to me and slipped an arm around his back, while leaving the other one along my side. He immediately caught on to what I was trying to do and adjusted his position. It was deeply comfortable and numbingly uncomfortable all at the same time. I had no idea there were no good ways to snuggle while facing each other on our sides. My poor arm was squished beneath me.

  “Just so you know, that you let me be your first kiss, your real first, means everything to me.” He brushed hair away from my dampened brow as I caught my breath.

  I finally found my voice. I had just needed him to start the conversation. “It means a lot to me that you wanted to be my first.” First kiss. First almost sexual partner. Did that count? It did to me. There were still a lot of firsts left, but he gave me a beautiful memory I would cherish forever.

  And as luck would have it, the peaceful bliss I’d fallen so easily into wasn’t destined to last for very long. In fact, it was minutes before our little world was disrupted once again.

  “Don’t answer it.” Rhys murmured into my hair as he tried to fall asleep on the couch with me.

  “It’s Beck’s ringtone. I can’t not answer it. Especially when Jonah is with him.” And just like that my dream world was shattered.

  I sat up and reached for my phone across Rhys’ back. He was massive and it wasn’t easy to bend over him.

  “Hey, tell me you guys are okay.” I demanded.

  “Hey to you too, pretty girl.” I winced at Beck’s endearment. I was a bad, bad person. Did this mean Rhys and I were dating? Did this mean my friendships with Thatcher and Beck were about to come to a screeching halt? I had no answers but heaps of justified guilt.

  “Well, don’t leave me in suspense. After everything that happened last night, I need to know you all didn’t get caught in a turf war.”

  “Turf war? I think you’ve been watching a little too much TV. At most, it would be a shootout, and no, we didn’t encounter one of those. But Jonah has some things he wants to share.” A crinkling came down the line, like either he was muffling the phone, or he was trying to get to another area. “There’s been some stuff going down, and he needs people around him that care.” His voice was low, so he must be trying to hide his conversation from Jonah.

  “Come here. I’ll call Thatcher and see if he can come, he wanted to see Trinity, so I don’t know that he can make it.”

  Beck sounded way too pleased as he answered. “That’s okay. You and Rhys will be enough if he can’t come.”

  “Okay. Sure, Mr. Subtle. We’ll see you soon.” We disconnected and Rhys tossed the phone on the chair, then pulled me back down beside him.

  “I take it, we’re about to have company?” I was impressed at the lack of disgruntled inflection in his voice. If he were Beck, he would have been highly annoyed someone was interrupting our alone time. Although, he just took one of my firsts, which probably kept him smug.

  “Beck said Jonah’s ready to talk and that he needs people around him right now.” I pinched my lower lip between my fingers.

  Please let Jonah be okay. I would feel like absolute crap if he wasn’t and I was here having the best, and only non-self-induced orgasm of my life. Beck didn’t sound torn up, so there was that.

  “I’m going to grab something to eat while we wait for them.” I checked the fridge and cabinets looking for something to busy myself with. I might as well make enough to feed the guys, so I settled on a box of delightful Hamburger Helper. We didn’t have it often because according to Mother Dearest a good wife makes healthy meals, but it was a secret favorite of mine.

  Rhys leaned a hip next to me as I started to brown the meat. He seemed like he was preparing for an important chat. And really, I needed the chat as much as he did. I needed clear boundaries, and precise clarification on what happened on the couch.

  “Rhys, since you’re here, can we talk for a minute?” Even though I started the conversation, I couldn’t quite bring myself to look at him. One, I didn’t trust myself not to turn fifty shades of tomato, and two, I couldn’t risk getting distracted by his Viking allure.

  “We are talking, are we not?” Smooth, cultured words distanced him from me. He crossed his arms over his muscular chest, causing his T-shirt to strain over his pecs.

  “I mean before they get
here. Can we talk about what happened?” The hamburger popped and sizzled as I moved it around the skillet.

  He didn’t respond at all. I watched out of my peripheral, but he didn’t even seem to be breathing. Why would he go all statuesque on me now? He was doing a damn good impression of David, with utter stillness and hidden emotions. I couldn’t take this anymore. I needed to know exactly what was going through his head.

  “Rhys. How is this going to change things?” I placed the spatula in the spoon rest a little harder than I meant to, causing a sharp tinkling to fill the air.

  When I finally gave Rhys my complete attention, he eyed me warily as if he wasn’t sure what the right answer was. He knew enough about me by now to know I wouldn’t appreciate pretty lies. I wanted the truth in all its ugly glory. If he thought what we did was going to ruin friendships, I needed to know.

  “Do you want things to change?” He answered my question with a question.

  “No. I really like you. But I…” I wasn’t sure how to tell him how I really felt. Which gave me a whole new level of appreciation when asking for his feelings. Baring your soul to someone was hard, making your heart vulnerable. Us broken people, we understood just how dangerous that type of faith could be.

  “But you like the others too.” It was a statement.

  “Yeah, I do. I’ve never had a tight friendship with people like I have with you, Beck, Thatcher, and Jonah. It’s been a Godsend these last few months at a new school, in a new town. I…I’m this mixed ball of emotions and the only thing I know is that I can’t choose between any of you. Please don’t make me.” I implored him with my eyes to understand where I was coming from, but his face kept the blank mask he sported so well.

  “Say something. Tell me what you’re thinking.” I already felt about two inches tall, and his lack of response was tearing my heart into tiny pieces. Why couldn’t I have had better willpower? I acted on the sexual tension and now I fucked everything up.