“No!” I plead, already hating myself for what I’m about to say. “I’m sorry, sir. You’re right. Thank you.” He looks at me with complete indifference as he polishes off the contents of the tumbler in his hand. “When will I be going?”
He walks over to the small liquor table beside his desk and refills his glass before taking a seat again. “They’re expecting you the day after your final exam. In the meantime, you are to have no contact with Joey. Don told me he doesn’t expect his son will return to school until his face is healed, but I’ll call the high school on Monday to make special arrangements for any classes you share upon his return. And you’re on complete house arrest for the remainder of the weekend. Do you understand?” When I give him a curt nod, he waves his hand, dismissing me. “Go on. Get out of my sight.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
VIOLET
My clammy hands stick to my steering wheel as I turn down Thatcher’s street. It would seem he’s the source of another first for me—skipping class. Breaking the rules is not something I do. I felt like I was going to get sick when I snuck out of the high school and ran to my car. But my gut is telling me something is wrong, that Thatcher needs me.
I’ll admit I was a little pissed when he didn’t show up this morning to take me to school. No, pissed isn’t the right word. It was more like disappointed. I let myself stew in it as I drove myself to school. Maybe I was still feeling a little vulnerable from everything that took place over the weekend.
Falling asleep in Thatcher’s arms felt amazing. Waking up to find him gone with nothing more than a note saying I wouldn’t hear from him until this morning…not so much. I had never been so intimate with anyone before. It would’ve been nice to bask in the warmth of the newness a little longer. Instead, I was met with icy silence. That can play tricks on even the most secure person. And I learned something about myself over the past two days, I’m a very insecure person.
At least when it comes to Thatcher. He’s him, and I’m me. I may never be able to wrap my head around him wanting to be with me.
By the time I got to Spanish class, I was ready to give him the cold shoulder. See how he liked the silence. Only, he didn’t show, and I immediately knew something wasn’t right. I was so focused on certain details of his visit to my room, I’d nearly forgotten some very important facts. Like his bruised knuckles or how upset he seemed about his parents being home, and the desperation in his eyes when he asked if he could hold me. Something big had happened between him dropping me off after our date and showing up at my window at two in the morning.
I tried grilling Cole about it in second period, but he clammed up, then threw the whole Switzerland thing back in my face. Arwen wasn’t much help either. She seemed to be distracted with something else entirely. When lunch rolled around, I decided I would get my answers straight from the horse’s mouth.
My car looks out of place pulling into Thatcher’s driveway, and I can’t help marveling at the grandeur of his house in the light of day. Large windows decorate the front expanse of the gray and white exterior. Even the front door is four large windows framed in mahogany wood.
I park my car behind Thatcher’s black Mercedes. My pulse is racing, but there’s no sense in turning back now. With one more calming breath, I get out and head to the front door. It’s eerily quiet, much different than the night of the party.
After I knock on the door, I listen for movement, but all I hear is the faint sound of music. When the doorbell doesn’t get a response, I try the handle. It’s unlocked, and I push it open.
“Thatcher?” I call, poking my head inside.
There’s still no response, but I hear movement coming from the same direction as the music. Questioning my sanity, I step inside and close the door behind me. The song gets louder and clearer as I make my way to the second floor, and I follow Bexley’s “Run Rabbit Run” to a door at the end of the hallway on the left. There’s some weird breathing and grunting coming from the other side, and I bust inside the room without giving knocking a single thought.
I find Thatcher standing in front of a wall made of mirrors wearing only black basketball shorts, dripping sweat as he lifts two of the biggest dumbbells I’ve ever seen. He’s so focused on the task at hand, he doesn’t even notice I’ve entered the gym. I take full advantage, admiring the way the muscles in his back and arms dance as he raises the weights. By the time he puts them down, my entire body is buzzing with unfiltered yearning.
He turns in my direction, his head tilting and brow knitting. His eyes study me as if he’s not sure I’m real. My brain is mush from the heat still coursing through me, but I manage to give him a small wave, and his face lights up.
He moves like lightening across the floor and pulls me into his arms before crashing his lips to mine. There’s a desperation behind his kiss, as if he thought he might never get to kiss me again. We’re both panting when he breaks the kiss, his eyes still closed as he rests his forehead against mine.
“Gross…your sweat is getting all over me,” I tease.
He chuckles, pulling back to meet my gaze as a playful smile spreads across his face. “Well, I was about to shower. You’ll have to join me now.”
My lashes blink wildly as I gape at him, trying to figure out what the hell to say. I’m not opposed to seeing Thatcher all wet and naked in the shower, but I’ve never been nude in front of a guy before. And I don’t know if I’m ready for—wait.
“I came here for a reason.”
He takes my hand, pulling me behind him as he heads toward his bedroom. “Yeah, I figured you broke in here for a reason,” he mocks. “But like you said, I’m gross. We can talk in the shower.”
“But…”
Ignoring my protest, he shuts his bedroom door behind me, then goes into the bathroom and turns the shower on. When I don’t follow, he peeks his head out, eyebrows raised.
“You coming, Saint?”
I bite my bottom lip as I hug myself. “You go ahead, I’m good. We can talk when you get out.”
His brow furrows as he stalks toward me. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t hide from me.” He pulls my arms away from my body. His chocolate eyes lock on mine as his hands move to the hem of my shirt. “We’re going to shower and talk. Nothing else. Okay?”
When I give him a nod of approval, he pulls my shirt over my head. It hits the floor, and his eyes stay glued on mine as he moves to the clasp of my bra. Once it’s unhooked, I tuck my shoulders and allow it to fall down my arms. By the time he goes for the button of my jeans, I’m no longer feeling shy. There’s only need now.
As soon as I’m stripped, he removes his shorts. My cheeks heat as I fight the urge to look down. He laughs but doesn’t call me out as he leads me to the shower.
It’s the nicest shower I’ve ever been in. The dark gray tiles are gorgeous, and there’s even another damn window. This one is frosted, though I still find myself fretting someone might see us.
Thatcher steps in behind me, the square rainwater showerhead large enough for both of us to stand under, then grabs a loofa and pours some bodywash on it.
“I was worried when you didn’t show this morning.”
His chocolate eyes are remorseful as they meet mine. When the light from the window hits his face, my heart sinks. There’s a small cut in the corner of his bottom lip and a light bruise on the side of his left eye. “I know…” He sighs, his eyes falling to the loofa as he lathers it with his hands. “I’m sorry. I needed some time to clear my head.”
I reach up to cup his cheek, gently rubbing my thumb over the bruise. “What’s this?”
“The only thing that’s real.”
His words are barely more than a whisper, but they cut right through me. My stomach tightens at the amount of hurt behind them. He means pain. I recognize the line from the Nine Inch Nails song that had been playing in his room the night of the party.
His eyes shoot up and lock on mine as I yank the loofa from his hands, and he sucks in a bre
ath though his teeth when I begin rubbing it across his chest. “It’s not the only thing. Not anymore. I’m real. We’re real. This is real.”
We’re both quiet as my hand slides down to his stomach. Making my way lower, I glide the mesh material over the V of his hips, slowing my motions as I continue to descend. His eyes close as I work it over his length. My gaze follows the path of my hands, taking full advantage, and I watch him grow and throb from my touch. When I reach out and take it in my free hand, his head falls back.
It’s smooth and slippery from the soap. I grip it tighter before slowly moving up and down his shaft. I have no clue what I’m doing, but his soft moans tell me I must be doing something right. As I start to work up a rhythm, he lets out a string of curses and turns away from me.
“I don’t deserve you,” he pants, resting his forearm on the wall as he leans on it. My brain is foggy with need, my pounding heart echoing at my core, but I take a deep breath and begin washing his backside as he continues. “I’m greedy, and I selfishly keep soaking up everything you’re willing to give to me. You should tell me to go to hell before I disappoint you. I will let you down, it’s who I am. And I can’t stand the thought of hurting you, Saint.”
“Then don’t.” I tug on his arm, urging him to face me again. When he does, I wrap my naked body around his. He tenses for only a second, then returns my embrace, kissing the top of my head. “Let me in. Let me…” love you. It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I refuse to let it break free. It’s too soon to be throwing the “L” word around. “Let me be there for you. I care about you and happen to believe you’re very worthy of my affection.”
He gives me a warm smile, but there’s uncertainty behind his eyes. He still has his guard up. “The bruise is courtesy of the great Tim Michaelson,” he tells me with a sigh. “This is what happens when you displease my father. Which is something I’ve done a lot in my lifetime. But I’d rather not get into any details right now.”
“So, that’s why you weren’t able to talk this weekend and didn’t come to school today?”
“Partly. I’m sorry for shutting you out. I’ve been in a bad place for the past couple days. I didn’t want to pull you into the darkness with me. But here you are, bringing me back to the light.”
“Always, Rebel.”
He kisses the tip of my nose, then gives me a devilish grin as he holds out his hand. “All right. Your turn to get clean.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
THATCHER
Violet clings to the white towel wrapped around her tiny body as I slip on a pair of black boxer briefs, her pale skin still flushed from the hot shower.
“It means a lot you came here to check on me,” I admit, digging a t-shirt out of my dresser for her to wear. She’s quiet as I walk over, her eyes drinking me in. “No one’s ever committed a BNE for me before.”
She scoffs, shoving my shoulder. “I didn’t break in. The door was unlocked.”
It’s selfish and wrong, pretending like everything’s okay. She wants to believe what we have is real, but we’re on borrowed time. Our little bubble is going to burst. Until then, I’m going to soak up every second with her.
I tsk my tongue, holding up the white shirt to slip it over her head. Her eyes flicker down as she bites her lip, but she lifts her arms. The towel falls to the floor, and I pull the shirt over her slender body.
“Oh, my little saint… I always knew I would corrupt you.” I tug her long golden hair out of the collar, then cup my hands around her face and plant a light kiss on her lips. “I meant what I said in the shower. You deserve better than me, but I need you. Would you give me today even if I couldn’t promise you tomorrow?”
“No one is promised tomorrow,” she breathes.
My lips land on hers again, but this time, our kiss is deep, ravenous, as I guide her to my bed. When the backs of her thighs hit the mattress, I break the kiss and lock my gaze on hers. She takes a seat on the edge, and I go down to my knees, spreading her legs so I can fit between them.
“I want to make you feel good.” I place a kiss on her inner thigh, one on the right, then the left. “But only if you’re ready.” My lips go a little higher, right, then left. “Only if it’s what you want.” Higher, right, then left. “Do you want me to take care of you?”
She licks her lips, her throat bobbing as she excitedly nods her head. My mouth spreads into a wide grin before diving in to taste her. I know I’m being greedy, but the guilt I’m feeling fades away with her cries of ecstasy.
A pillow smacks me in the face, waking me from a deep sleep. I shoot up, ready to take a swing at someone, opening my eyes and squeezing them shut again until the culprit comes into focus.
“Sorry, man.” Cole chuckles, hands up in surrender. “You were sleeping like the dead. I tried calling your name and shaking you.”
The fog begins to clear, and I reach out to rub the empty bed beside me, wondering if I’d dreamed it all. It certainly felt too good to be true.
“She was definitely here,” Cole says, as if reading my thoughts. “Your room smells like her.”
My eyes narrow at him before I rub my hands over my face. “Fuck. What time is it?”
After I’d given Violet not one, but two orgasms, she passed out in my arms. Then I must have gone into a coma.
“It’s five. She probably couldn’t wake you either. Did you tell her about Joey or your new plans for the summer?”
My head hits the pillow as I groan. “Hell no. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t look into those big, innocent eyes and tell her what I fuck up I am.”
Cole sighs. “Well, it sure as shit looks like something went down between the two of you today,” he grits out, picking up Violet’s towel from the floor and throwing at me. “And you’re telling me you kept the truth from her.”
“Maybe she doesn’t need to find out. Joey isn’t going to come near her again after the number I did on him. So, if we don’t tell her—”
“You can’t be serious. That’s a horrible idea. You know how badly people gossip around here. Over a dozen people saw you beat the shit out of Joey Friday night. Do you think no one is talking about it at school? She’ll understand if you explain what happened. Things will go very differently if you let her find out from someone else. Besides, how would you explain the summer? You can’t leave without telling her, that’s something she wouldn’t forgive.”
“I’m not planning to. Maybe I can come up with something else. She can know I’m leaving without knowing the real reason behind it.”
“I’m telling you, Thatch. You need to be honest with her.”
“Yeah…well, it’s my relationship not yours. Don’t you have your own problems to worry about? Have you talked to your phantom girl since Friday?”
“Nope,” he clips. “And I don’t want to talk about her.”
I let out a patronizing laugh. “That’s rich. You want to be all up in my business, but I’m not supposed to even ask about your life.”
“That’s different. I’m looking out for Violet. She’s my friend too, and I don’t want to see her get hurt.”
The blood in my veins erupts with anger, and I jump out of bed. “You think I do?” I roar, getting in his face. He meets my furious glare with a bored one, only adding fuel to the fire. “All I’ve ever done is try to keep that from happening. Maybe if you would have kept your nose out of it to begin with—”
“Don’t try to put this on me. There’s a right choice and a wrong one. Whatever you choose is on you. Stop acting like a damn coward and fucking talk to her.”
“Get out!” I shout, pointing to my door.
He huffs as he rubs the back of his neck. “Gladly.” Once he steps into the hallway, he looks back at me over his shoulder. “Give me a call when you pull your head out of your ass.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
VIOLET
Thatcher winks at me from the other side of Arwen’s kitchen where he and Cole are getting all of us another drink, and my heart
flutters as I blow him a kiss. If someone would’ve told me at the beginning of the year I’d be attending house parties with him, especially as my boyfriend, I would’ve laughed in their face. But here we are, and I’m blissfully happy.
So much so, I’ve decided I’m ready to take things to the next level. Thatcher doesn’t know what I have planned for tonight. He didn’t ask any questions when I told him I wanted to stay the night. He was simply thrilled with the prospect of waking up next to me. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little worried about how he’s going to react. He’s been very insistent we take things slow. It’s important to him I don’t do anything I’m not ready for. But I’m ready. So, so ready.
“The two of you are getting disgusting,” Arwen teases, elbowing me in the side. I turn my attention to her long enough to give her a bright smile. “Are you sure about tonight, though?”
The nervous uncertainty in her tone causes my chest to tighten as I slide my gaze back over to her. Things with Thatcher have been amazing since I showed up at his house almost two weeks ago. We’re getting closer every day. But I’m not blind, I know something is eating at him. And I think Arwen and Cole know what that something is.
“Is there a reason why I shouldn’t be sure?”
From the moment I told Arwen I wanted to stay at Thatcher’s tonight, she started acting weird. It felt like she was trying to talk me out of it, but it didn’t make a lot of sense. I thought if anyone would be thrilled for me it would be her. Hell, even my mom got a little excited when I asked her to buy me some condoms and take me to get on the pill. But Arwen is my best friend. She’s the one I want to talk to about this stuff, and she’s making me feel even more awkward than I already do.
When the Saint Falls: a high school bully romance (Westbrook three Book 1) Page 17