Wrecked: A Novel (Charming Knights Book 1)

by Shana Vanterpool

  His jaw tightened. “So you wanted to talk about nothing then? Figured.” His feet pounded faster, putting him in front of me.

  I hit a nerve. Good. “Don’t run away from me,” I snapped, surprised by the dark order in my voice. For a moment, I sounded like my father. His feet faltered, but did not stop, denying and complying in the same moment. We were starting to be eerily identical.

  “Your wish, my princess.”

  His bitterness met the softest part of my heart. “What do you wish?”

  He looked down at me from over the top of his shades. “I know better than to wish. You should too. I’ll see you at lunch?”

  “No.”

  His mouth thinned. “No?” he repeated. “And why not?”

  I understood the basics of our quick decision to do this fake relationship. There was no time to hammer out fake details. And maybe it was unreasonable of me, but I wanted him to give in. Show some freaking emotion other than doing what I wanted. If he wanted lunch, he could have it, but he had to take it. In this city, making rules was just as tenuous as pretending we followed them.

  “No. You know where to find me. Probably too well.” I patted his chest and leaned up to kiss his cheek, moving my lips over his ears. “I loved the earrings the first time, Cage.” Then I flipped my hair over my shoulder and sauntered into Charming High.

  I never realized how difficult it was to avoid him until I tried. He was everywhere. In the locker beside mine. In the classroom across from my first hour. Down the hall from my second. Right beside my third. His position was perfectly placed to meet my gaze every time I left each classroom. Lunch would be the only time I found to slip away from him.

  A hand shot out as I passed by the west hall, and I grinned as it wrapped around my wrist. Silently, he led me through the hall to the cafeteria. I’d never been to a school without this particular set up. But I’d watched movies. With normal cafeteria’s. A few options, food fights, and gossip. As large as half the campus, there were enough options for every single student to customize their own personal menus, and we’d never mar our Valentino’s with 2% milk.

  The Charming Knights had commandeered their corner. This was the middle act of our play. Wreck interweaved his fingers with mine and nodded at the menus on the wall.

  “What are you in the mood for?”

  I bit my lip. The cafeteria always gave me mild anxiety. I didn’t know why, but all the eyes, the indifference, the avoidance—it made it hard to breathe sometimes.

  “Strawberry chicken salad with poppy seed dressing. Rosemary focaccia. Blueberry green smoothie.” He looked down at me, his shades gone.

  My heart raced suddenly. How’d he know that was my favorite meal? “They don’t serve that here.”

  His lips twitched. “You know they’d serve anything you wanted, Hals. That’s why you never ask for it. Go sit down with the guys. I’ll bring it over.”

  Cage was here. Slightly boyish in his man body, royal blue eyes clearer than the last time I saw them. The bruises on his throat were hidden by the collar on his suede coat. I glanced at the guys, finding everyone casting glances at us but Ryder. “I think I’ll wait for you.”

  He snorted. “You could have them on the ground kissing your pretty pink toes in seconds. You may not want your power, but you have it, Hallie. You know all they’re worth and what they’re not worth. Go sit down. Chin up. You can still fight and earn your power.” He gave me a gentle shove in their direction.

  I felt a rush of confidence at his words. Not acceptance of my father’s will, but control in my ability to still find me inside of it. Tristan had made me want out. But there was no out. I rose my chin and slid my fingers over Wreck’s wrist before releasing him. Eyes followed me, but I focused on Storm’s bored face. He looked up when I sat beside him, nodding once and then returning to his alfalfa sandwich.

  “I always look forward to our mind-altering conversations.” I rested my chin on my hand and smiled at him. “You really know how to make a girl think.”

  He grunted, licking mayonnaise from his lip. “Wreck told me I have to start talking to you.”

  “He did? You always do what Wreck says?”

  He rewarded me with a small lift of his lips. But didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure of his answer either, that was the unsettling part.

  Same thing with his friend.

  Two trays came to rest in front of me. Wreck slid into the seat across from me, meal identical.

  “Thank you, Cage.”

  Ryder’s brows shot into his hairline. Wreck, on the other hand, looked borderline mad. Eyes daring him to question a single thing. Ryder didn’t. He shrugged and returned to his sandwich.

  Hushed whispers sounded from the left of us. The Varsity team was deep in conversation.

  “They’ve got to pick a new captain,” Wreck said. “Tryouts restart at tonight’s practice.”

  “You’re not trying out again,” I guessed from his subdued tone.

  He shrugged with one shoulder. “Don’t want it for some reason anymore. Rip deserves it. Always has.”

  Then Rip would get it.

  Maybe that had been Wreck’s plan all along. I eyed him intently as he ate his salad, jaw powering through the kale like a machine. I thought he wanted captain? Was pissed he didn’t get it? It was like he acted one way for everyone else but felt so much more than he had to be. His heart might be bigger than his harshness. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to flip me off. He had of course, which was a contradiction, but still, I wondered how well I knew this man.

  “You have plans later?” he asked, drawing my attention elsewhere.

  “Homework.”

  “We’ll probably all meet up at Sparrow Cliff after practice. You should come.”

  Beneath the table, I touched his foot with mine. I should probably go. It would be a good chance to turn the gossip inside out. Make everyone used to us, so eventually it would reach my father. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to go to another orgy. I’d heard about Sparrow Cliff. We all knew what it was about. Partying on the edge of the earth, and if Rip’s performance the other night was any indication, it wouldn’t be the last one I saw.

  “Thank you for the invite, but I’ll pass.”

  His fork paused on the way to his mouth. “Why?”

  Storm scratched his cheek. And I didn’t know how, but that meant something to them. A sign. A warning. A nudge.

  Now I really wasn’t going.

  I smiled stiffly and rose to my feet, leaning over to press a kiss to his lips. “Thank you for lunch.”

  I had to remember this wasn’t real.

  It was a fake relationship.

  Maybe not to W, but that could all be in my head.

  Maybe Wreck was perfectly normal.

  And I was losing my mind.

  Making up secret admirers to fill the gaps. Loving his kiss because there was little left to love. Finding life where there was only fabrication.

  “Hallie,” he said calmly, but I heard the warning.

  I just didn’t care.

  ***

  I wasn’t used to feeling this way.

  This unsettled in a life I didn’t have a way out of. I’d grown used to my pathetic fight, and now that there was something to war against, I wasn’t exactly sure what all my practicing had been for.

  My booties sunk into the freshly mowed grass on the football field that evening. I climbed to the top of the bleachers and tucked my legs beneath me, heart still heavy from Professor Seneca’s inability to look at me in trig. My fake boyfriend wasn’t playing tonight, but he was there, and unfortunately, whether anything made sense or not, I kind of understood it when he was around. So much for faking.

  My phone chimed in my bag.

  Wreck: How supportive fake girlfriend of you to come to my game.

  Me: Should I come down and rub your shoulders too?

  I looked at him across the field, spotting his white teeth as he looked down at his crotch.

  Wreck: My shoulders
are fine, my little star. But I wouldn’t mind if you came down and rubbed something else.

  Me: I guess I can spare five seconds

  I grinned playfully at him from my position, biting down on my tongue when I saw him laugh. I couldn’t hear it, but it somehow felt more real watching him laugh. The sun shining into his eyes, his skin glowing a summery glow, all alone on his bench as his teammates ran plays—his laugh was fifty yards away. Safe from making this pathetic war of mine any more comfortable with him.

  Because Wreck laughing was almost as alluring as his kiss.

  Wreck: What if I last longer? What if five seconds is all YOU can take, and then all of a sudden, you’re stuck with this amazing stud who can go for hours and you have no choice but to orgasm over and over again? I’m not dropping you off all comatose. Plus, you’ll be walking funny for the next few weeks. You’ll look ridiculous, Hals.

  I gawked at his message, rereading it for any signs I’d blinked and read someone else’s BS.

  Me: You’re worried about my image? That’s kind of sweet. If I forget the cocky pigheaded lies you just told yourself.

  Wreck: Lies aren’t real. They’re just the truth that hasn’t come out yet.

  Me: Tell me a lie then.

  After a few seconds of no reply, I found him staring right at me.

  He lifted his right hand and made air quotes with his index and middle finger. My heart sped up. My tongue slid across my bottom lip and I forced myself to remain still.

  Me: You sure you don’t want company?

  Wreck: Look at me

  I did.

  He patted the space next to him.

  Did that mean reminding myself that this was fake was really only lying to myself? What was I really afraid of? I could want Wreck. I just couldn’t love him. Never love him. Or my father would have the ultimate weapon.

  I took my things with me, heading down the bleachers and jogging across the field as the team huddled on the forty-yard line. I sat beside Wreck and didn’t say anything for a while, watching the blue jerseys run from those without.

  Occasionally, his feet would twitch, or his shoulders would jerk, and he’d sigh a growl, or run his hand through his hair. It was killing him sitting on the sidelines. I didn’t have an outlet from this life. Tristan was my first one. I knew how addictive it was to have something that granted you a reprieve one moment, and how hard the fall was to blink awareness inside my trap in the other.

  Wreck wanted to be free.

  “How long are you out for?”

  “My doctor informed Coach. Liability,” he snorted, but I didn’t believe him. When you were Owen Wreckmond’s son, there was no liability. It was all a risk. “I should be good by Friday’s game.”

  I bit my lip, watching Rip throw the ball down the field. It spiraled perfectly into its intended target’s hands and Rip threw his fist in the air, back glistening sweat. “You can’t play in the game if you’re not practicing the plays.”

  “I’ll manage.”

  “If you want, I can help you practice them.” I narrowed my eyes against the sun, looking at him carefully.

  He looked down at me, expression impassive. “You want to help me run plays?” He sounded unimpressed.

  Maybe he had a reason to be. “Listen, I don’t want my fake boyfriend going out there and sucking, so it can come back on me. That’s all.”

  He smirked. “No, we wouldn’t want that at all, would we?” He leaned close and pushed a stray strand of my hair behind my ear, and then his fingers started playing with my earrings, studying the little gold stars. “Rip made captain.”

  “Did you do that for him?” The heat of his hand was somehow warmer than the heat of day. Sweltering, but not uncomfortable.

  His eyes tightened at my earrings. “Rip’s old man likes to play cops and robbers with mine.” His eyes drifted to mine. “Football is his way out. He’d never let me interfere. He was cool not being nominated. But I wasn’t. So, I volunteered as captain. I was new to the team last year. They’d never pick me, and Coach doesn’t care who I am. It’s why his team never loses. Money doesn’t make us good players. Hunger does. And Geoff Ripford is starving.” He shrugged. “Moron has no idea. So, let’s keep this secret between you and I and come celebrate with us tonight.”

  Him and I were never getting out. Not intact anyway. We’d spent too long whole to survive missing pieces. But Rip could get out. It showed me a whole new side of Cage Wreckmond. A friend. He just gave his teammate a way out of his cage, and it was so incredibly selfless and sexy on him.

  “A dark knight,” I whispered, blinking dazedly at having his royal blues this close. Our eyelashes were millimeters from tangling and his warm breath slid across my lips, teasing me. Okay, I admitted to myself. He wasn’t kind of anything. He was stunning. Or maybe I was seeing different colors than his dark shade of charcoal.

  He shook his head once, leaning his forehead against mine. The hold he had on my earlobe was now on my neck; his fingers curled around my nape, brushing my hair there so softly the sensation of his touch traveled south between my shoulders and down my spine, making me arch toward his body when I shivered.

  “You want something?” he asked, his voice low, still somehow the loudest thing I heard.

  The only thing I heard.

  “I want you to kiss me. Not,” I continued, when he leaned in, “because I want you to. But because you do.”

  “You don’t want me to want to kiss you, Hallie.”

  “Why not?” I breathed sadly.

  “Because I won’t want to stop there. I won’t just kiss you. I’ll fucking devour you.”

  I heard myself moan a second before his lips came down on mine. This time when he asked for tongue, he got it. My body took over. My brain wasn’t much help anyway right now. I moved toward him, rising on one knee on the bench to reach more of him as his tongue plunged deeply into my mouth. The temperature of our tongues together was searing. Too hot to be good for me. He was going to burn me.

  And his taste.

  I moaned again, out of pure, deep hunger.

  Rip wasn’t the only one starving here.

  This was true hunger. True desire to want nourishment. To want freedom.

  He should have devoured me when he had the chance. There wasn’t going to be anything left of him now. I pushed him back on the bleachers and straddled him, my hair falling forward to create a curtain around our faces. I kissed him as hard as I could, wanting some sort of friction. Some sort of release.

  And judging by the way he kept up, never letting me get too far ahead, he was just as gone. His hands kneaded my body, skimming down my skirt to delve beneath it. He palmed handfuls of my ass and dug his nails into my flesh, urging me against his excitement. I let my thighs slide on the bench and my core settled against his bulge.

  He growled against my lips, lifting his hips to meet the space between my thighs as his tongue twisted seductively with mine. I tried to gasp at the contact, but he swallowed my gasp a moment before I felt myself unhinging. Breaking apart at the seams. I met his hips, grinding against him right back. Fire and lust rained down on me. I had never wanted more to drown and burn alive at the same time.

  I was so close to having an orgasm. I saw the finish line. I was sprinting for it. Didn’t care who I had to screw over to get it, I just wanted to win.

  My panties were a thin, barely scrap of cloth between my naked sex and his jeans. They were too wet to offer much protection. If anything, they were in the way. I didn’t want barriers. I wanted them gone. I whimpered against his lips, grinding on him harder. My hands were holding on to the bench. My head was too fuzzy to think and feel.

  Before I exploded from frustration, Wreck’s grip on my ass released and I felt his fingers easily grab hold of my thong. I didn’t look to check, but I heard the faint sound of tearing fabric and the humid air of Charmant on my bare backside. I nestled my wet mound right up against his jeans. The skin to denim contact was sublime. I circled my hips o
ver him greedily, rubbing my clit against his jeans, seeking my end. It came in a rush of rain and flames. I had never felt anything so amazing in my entire life. My kiss became more tongue and less lips. I gave up and opened my eyes mid-flight. His eyes were heavy-lidded and blazing, teeth gritted.

  “You have no idea how fucking good this feels,” he growled, tossing his head back as his body tightened beneath mine.

  Watching his face as he came, and knowing he was watching mine do the same, was the final shove into defeat. I hid nothing as I trembled and succumbed to his touch. I felt sexy and in control of my wants for once. I felt free.

  I fell across his chest, eyes barely focused as the sounds of football practice came back to us. I felt him pull my skirt back in place and then his hands stayed there, shielding my naked ass from the world.

  “Okay,” his deep voice sounded finally. “Maybe we both have to work on the ‘five seconds’ thing.”

  I smiled drunkenly into his chest. “I’m not working on anything. Waiting another second for that?” I shook my head. “I’d never have lasted.”

  “Hmm.” His hands slid up to wrap around me. “No more talking. My walls are down. Dangerous things are about to come out of my mouth.”

  My hand fisted in his shirt. “Does anyone else get the W treatment?”

  “Hallie,” he warned. I heard real fear in his voice. “Please don’t do this right now.”

  “Does he give other girls perfect gifts, Cage?”

  His pain sigh sounded. “No. Of-fucking-course not.”

  “Only me?”

  “It’s only ever been you.”

  “Only?”

  “Only,” he managed, clearing his throat. “Stop.”

  “Is this really fake for you?”