Arwen turns the music down, drawing my attention away from the window to her. She gives me a knowing smile as her gaze flickers to me, then back to the road.
“If you’ve got big enough ovaries to ask, I’ll answer honestly.”
“What?” I croak, my pulse racing with nervous energy.
“Come on, I know you’ve heard the rumors. Don’t you want to know if they’re true?”
I tug on the seatbelt, suddenly feeling as if it’s choking me. “I’ve heard them, but it’s none of my business. Besides, I’ve also recently learned how misleading rumors can be.”
She shifts gears, and I’m mesmerized by the movements. There’s something almost sexual about driving a stick shift, especially in a car like this.
“Yes, I suppose you have. People do love distorting the truth. You should be careful hanging around us, they might try to turn our threesome into a foursome.”
My stomach flutters as I huff out a laugh. “I don’t care what those assholes think about me. I highly doubt anyone would buy into something so outlandish. But it’s no skin off my back if they want to believe I’m getting it on with three of the hottest people in our high school.”
A smile breaks out across her face as she shifts again. “It’s true. You really don’t care what anyone thinks about you, do you?”
“Nope.” Arwen’s eyes leave the road and land on my lips as I pop the P, my body hot by the time she removes them.
“It’s not that far of a stretch, you know. All three of us would love to have you in our beds, but not collectively. However, Thatcher doesn’t share well with others. And he’s extra possessive when it comes to you.”
My mouth drops open and the leather seat squeaks as I nervously adjust my clothes. Perhaps the whispers around school about Arwen weren’t all made up. No one’s ever been so open and blunt about wanting to have sex with me before. Her comments might have made some girls uncomfortable, but I’m extremely flattered. This is Arwen freaking Sullyvan we’re talking about.
“I…uh…wow.” I use a hand to fan my heated body. “Okay, I think I might have a couple questions.”
Her eyes slide to me again, and she giggles. “Oh my gosh, your cheeks are so red, they’re glowing. You’re too damn adorable.” She shifts again as we come to a stop at a red light, then gives me a wink before reaching across me to roll down my window. I lean into the fresh air as she sits back. “You can ask whatever you want. Shoot, gorgeous.”
“So, the three of you have never…”
She laughs as my words trail off. “No, we’ve never slept together. It was never like that with us. If I had a dick, people wouldn’t even question it. But throw a vagina in the mix, and suddenly friends can’t simply be friends.”
She shifts back into gear as the light turns green, and I’m relieved her attention is on the road again. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s been frustrating. So, are you…?”
“A lesbian?” She shrugs. “No. There are so many terms now, people trying to define and label everything. I prefer to think of myself as open minded. Love is love. Sex is sex. If I like someone and am attracted to them, I don’t care what bits they do or don’t have.”
It’s official. I love this girl. “Every time I think you can’t possibly get any more amazing, you prove me wrong.”
“Careful, love,” she coos, giving me another quick glance. “You keep talking like that and I might try to steal you from Thatcher.”
I sigh. “You can’t steal something he doesn’t have or want.”
“And I don’t think you truly believe that’s the case. Did you miss the part where I said he’s possessive over you?”
“He doesn’t want me. That was made perfectly clear when he flat out told me he and I were never going to happen—after he kissed the sense out of me. He says I don’t belong in his world. Like he’s so far out of my league, we live in different worlds.”
“Wait. Thatcher kissed you?”
“Senseless,” I remind her. “Then told me he didn’t want me and left with another girl.”
“Well, damn. He royally screwed that up. But it’s not what you think. Thatcher is …complicated. Pushing you away is about him not you.”
“Oh yeah…he’s trying to do the ‘right thing.’ He’s so fucking gallant, bullying me for the past two years then making me feel things I’ve never felt before only to…” my words trail off as my throat tightens, tears pooling in my eyes.
After a beat of silence, Arwen clears her throat. “Look…I’m not real great with girly stuff like talking about feelings. And I’ve already said more than I should. But you’ve got it all wrong. I’ve never seen anyone get under Thatcher’s skin the way you do. It was obvious from the very first time he laid eyes on you.”
My mind replays the scene, remembering now Arwen was the girl who put him in check that day. Still, what she’s saying couldn’t be true. The only thing he felt for me was contempt.
“He’s been fighting against it all this time, that’s why he’s always been such an asshole to you. But…did you ever notice how no one else ever bothers you? This is high school, if the big dog barks at you, the rest are sure to be yapping too.”
“Oh, they have.”
“No, sweetheart.” Her lips twist with condescension. “I’m not talking about laughing alongside him. He made sure no one else ever said a word to you. If they did, they ended up with a black eye. The entire time he was keeping you away by bullying you, he was also protecting you from the rest of the vultures. For example, your little lunch spot outside. Do you honestly think no one else knows it’s there? Thatcher is the reason you’ve been able to enjoy that solitude every day.”
My forehead bunches as everything she said rolls around in my head. It’s true. I’ve never had an issue with anyone else at school, but that didn’t mean it was because of Thatcher. I haven’t given anyone a reason to pick on me. Not that bullies need one. Still, it didn’t seem likely he would do that for me. Or that everyone would listen to him. Keeping an entire high school away from my sanctuary? He can’t hold that much control over them…
“I don’t understand.”
“You’ve been off-limits. Thatcher made sure no one harassed you and kept assholes from trying to get into your pants.”
My eyes widen, though she doesn’t notice. She sounds so calm, so cavalier, as if all of this is perfectly normal behavior. What did he do, go around threatening anyone who wanted to ask me out? And how did he find out when a guy was interested in me if I didn’t even know?
“But…why? How?”
“I think you know why,” she answers, pausing as her eyes slide over to me. “As for the how, Thatcher is good at telling people what they want or need to hear to get his way.”
“That’s called manipulation.”
She shrugs. “Call it what you want, but he did it for you. To protect you. And it worked. Until recently. Once word started spreading about his true intentions, all bets were off.”
“Okay…” I relax into the seat, allowing my head to fall back. “I don’t even know how to process what you’re telling me. It’s all so…screwed up. No matter his intentions. I mean, who does he think he is? He likes me, but doesn’t want to, so he thinks he can decide no one else can date me either? What the hell is that? And who asked him to ‘protect’ me? I can take care of myself. Always have.”
Is that his problem? Does he see me as some helpless and defenseless little girl? If so, he couldn’t be more wrong. I’m not one of those kids who grew up in a bubble.
“Hey, you’ll get no argument from me. I never said I agreed with his choices, only that you didn’t know the score.” When we come to another stop, she gives me a warm smile. “What do you say we stop talking about Thatcher and go grab a bite to eat?”
“Sounds perfect.” I place a hand on my stomach, suddenly feeling famished. “Something greasy with lots of calories please.”
Ten minutes later, we’re singing along to Strange Love by Halsey as Arwen dr
ives up to Sal’s Shake Shack. Being with her feels natural and easy, like hanging out with myself. We click—and that’s never happened to me before. There will be plenty of time tomorrow to overthink and dwell on everything Arwen told me. Right now, I want to enjoy what’s left of the night.
Arwen pulls into a parking spot, turning the car off before grinning at me. “You ready to get your grub on?”
I unbuckle my seatbelt and do an impression of Homer Simpson drooling over food. “Mmmm…shakes.”
She laughs. “Okay, Homer, let’s do this.”
I’m still grinning by the time we meet at the front of the car. “Don’t judge me, I’m about to order an obscene amount of food.”
“I’d judge you if you didn’t,” she retorts.
When the bell on the door of the diner chimes behind me, Arwen’s eyes widen, then narrow. Before I can turn to see who’s coming out, she grabs my hand and pulls me into the shadows with her.
“What’s going on?”
She places a finger over her lips, silently shushing me before gesturing over my shoulder with a jerk of her head. I slowly turn around, careful not to step into the light, and my heart sinks. Thatcher is opening the passenger door of his car for Samantha, her eyes dreamy as they continue their conversation. He must have left the party with her.
I’ll admit, I was jealous he was talking to her when I arrived, but he seemed to dismiss her without thought before walking over to me. And it was me he wanted to be alone with. I was the one he kissed as if he were desperate for it. Then again, I’m also the one he rejected minutes later. She was the one he left with. They had been in public together, not hidden away in an empty room. Hell, she even got a meal out of the deal.
“He’s a dick. I’m sorry,” Arwen says as Thatcher pulls out onto the street. “Do you want to leave?”
My lips pucker as I huff. “Hell no. Screw him.”
Chapter Sixteen
THATCHER
My body is tired as I walk through the double doors of WHS. The party Saturday night left me restless and agitated. I couldn’t stop thinking about how good it felt to have Violet in my arms, every part of my being begging me to finish what we started. In an attempt to clear my head yesterday, I ended up running six miles then lifting weights until my muscles were ready to give out on me. The only thing I accomplished was sore limbs.
Both Cole and Arwen are pissed at me as well. Apparently, Arwen and Violet saw me with Samantha leaving Sal’s. After a couple hours together, the two have become the best of friends. Now, Arwen feels the need to defend her new bestie.
She’s never gotten involved or had anything to say about the girls I’ve hooked up with in the past. But she’s madder than a hornet about me kissing Violet and leaving the party with another girl. I could’ve told her nothing happened with Samantha, but then she would tell Violet—which is what Cole wants permission to do. He doesn’t want to see her hurt, not understanding that’s what I’m trying to prevent. It’s better if she thinks I’m a dog—better for her to hate me.
When I spot Samantha a few steps ahead, I speed up until I’m at her side. Surprise is evident in her features as she glances over at me, and I notice how different she looks without the heavy makeup she’d been wearing the night of the party. Her entire appearance is toned down today. The t-shirt dress she’s wearing is cute yet modest, and her hair is pulled back into a simple ponytail. I can’t help wondering if the things I said to her the other night had anything to do with the changes in her today.
“Hey,” Samantha greets me, her voice small and tone unsure.
Even though things were friendly between us by the time I dropped her at home Saturday night, she still likely wasn’t expecting for me to talk to her today. To be honest, I hadn’t planned to. But with neither of my best friends speaking to me, I figured what the hell.
“You ready to talk to Violet about Aidan today?”
Samantha had willingly confessed to being jealous of Violet over Aidan, and even apologized for the way she’d acted. Apparently, she’s been after Aidan for a while. The poor girl has been to all his games and gets herself invited to parties she knows he’ll be attending, but he hasn’t given her the time of day. It was a hard pill for her to swallow when he’d gone after Violet who hadn’t shown any interest in him before.
So, I told her she should talk to Violet about how she feels about Aidan. Of course, it was somewhat selfish on my part. A perfect way to get Violet to end things with Aidan without my involvement.
Her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she averts her eyes, keeping them straight ahead of her as we continue down the hall. “Today? I don’t know. What am I supposed to say? ‘I like Aidan so you can’t date him’?”
I laugh, pretending not to notice or care about all the students staring at us as we walk together. Sometimes I wish I could walk through the halls unseen, but this is what I wanted, right? To be admired and feared. My behavior and actions over the past couple years earned me this constant scrutiny. It’s only fitting for it to feel more like a punishment than an accomplishment.
“Perhaps that’s not the best tactic. I would try a softer approach. Maybe begin by asking about her relationship with Aidan and how she feels about him. Once she confirms what I suspect, you can tell her you’re interested in him.”
She studies me with a furrowed brow as we stop at her locker. “But what if she uses that as her reasoning for breaking things off with him and he hates me?”
My jaw ticks as I draw in a deep breath through my nose, then release it, thankful she’s too busy digging in her locker to notice my frustration. “I think that’s highly unlikely, but even if she did, I’m sure Aidan is smart enough to know she’s breaking it off because she’s not into him. If she were, she wouldn’t stop talking to him for another girl.”
Her lips pucker thoughtfully as she closes her locker. Turning to me, she opens her mouth to respond, only to snap it shut again. Noting her paling face and rigid stance, I follow her line of sight. Arwen’s stormy gray eyes are trained on us, looking as though they might strike us with lightening at any moment. By her side, Violet walks tall, her chin lifted and eyes forward.
Violet’s wardrobe is different today. The black skinny jeans, tight tank-top, and electric blue flannel take her sex appeal to a whole new level. Arwen has been playing dress up with my little doll, and I’m going to kill her.
Arwen smirks like she knows what I’m thinking, then flips me off as they approach. “Shit for brains,” she hisses.
Samantha lets out a breath as they pass by, her body relaxing into the locker. “Jesus, I thought she was about to hit me. Maybe when I talk to Violet today, I should tell her nothing went on with us the other night.”
“No.” My harsh tone causes her to shrink away from me, and I continue much softer. “It’s none of her business. If she asks, tell her you had fun with me, but Aidan is who you want. It’s not a lie, and it’s all she needs to know.”
She regards me with a tilt of her head. “You want me to have Aidan, but you don’t want her for yourself?”
Oh, I want her for myself. I crave her more than my next breath. I’m just not dumb or selfish enough to let it happen.
“Don’t worry about it,” I grit out. She jumps as I slam my hand on the locker next to her before pointing my finger in her face. “Talk to her about Aidan.”
Samantha doesn’t look happy with me as I walk away, but I’ll make it up to her later. After she helps me get Aidan away from Violet and I can breathe again.
By the time I enter Spanish class, Violet is already in her seat. She keeps her head down and eyes focused on the piece of paper she’s writing on as I move to mine, but I know the second she’s aware of my presence. Her shoulders square and breath hitches.
Once I’m seated, I lean forward, inhaling her honeysuckle scent. “Good morning, Saint.”
“Rebel,” she clips.
I chuckle, amused by her pretense and the nickname. “Don’t be cruel,” I wh
isper as I get closer. “Don’t you know what it does to me when you call me Rebel?”
She sighs, trying to cover up her quick intake of breath as I nuzzle my nose into her hair. “I neither know nor care.”
“No?” I challenge. “You sure seemed to care Saturday night.”
Her head snaps back so quick, it nearly butts mine, her body twisting as she faces me. Instead of the fiery anger I’m expecting, she meets my stare with one of a calm indifference. “Don’t flatter yourself. You were merely my first mistake that night.”
Her eyes dart to my fist as it balls on my desk but remain impassive as they meet mine again. “Come again?” I hiss.
“No thanks. I’m good.”
My blood boils as she smirks, turning back around as the final bell rings. A part of me knows she’s screwing with me. Cole would’ve told me if there was anything to tell. Then again, he knows what I’d do if I found out Aidan touched her. There was also a tiny possibility something happened when he wasn’t looking. The longer I consider it, the more enraged I become.
Mr. Branson begins writing this week’s vocabulary words on the board, and I scoot forward in my seat, resting my forehead on the side of her head as I whisper in her ear. “Are you sure you want to play this game with me, baby doll? Do you know what I’ll do to him if what you’re implying is true?”
Her shoulders rise and fall. “Why do you care?”
I lift my head, then pull her hair away from her neck, so she’ll feel my lips on her ear. “Because you’re mine.”
She pulls away, angling her head until her eyes are locked on mine. “I refuse to be a toy you keep in the box on a shelf. If you want me, you’ll have to play with me.”
Well, fuck me.
When the Saint Falls: a high school bully romance (Westbrook three Book 1) Page 8