by K. Webster
I see several missed texts from Lucas, one of which he admits he misses me. Knowing Roan has seen this causes anger to spark inside of me, chasing away the ill feeling.
“Is this the same guy you were kissing in the picture?” he probes, his voice low and demanding. “Or a different one? How many guys do you have exactly?”
I turn my head to look at him. He’s wearing me out. Instead of responding to his stupid questions, I stare at him. Dark shadows beneath his eyes that weren’t there before now stand out, showing me he isn’t the only one having a bad day. It makes me wonder what kept him up so late. Sure as hell wasn’t studying. I don’t know much about the guy, but I can deduce he’s not a studier.
“If you hate school, what do you plan to do after this?” I ask, voicing my question.
It catches him off guard because for a second, he seems scared and unsure. And that’s not right because he’s fucking Roan. A prick who’s quite sure of himself.
“We’re not friends,” he reminds me.
“So?”
“So I’m not giving you my life story.”
“I was just asking for your future.”
Our eyes meet and his amber ones blaze with intensity. It’s a shame he’s such an asshole. He’s hot. Really hot. Distractingly so. I crave to push away the overgrown fallen lock of hair that hangs over one brow that I know is pierced. I want to see the piercing up close and wonder if he’s pierced elsewhere. This guy is a dick, and yet I still want to touch him.
“I want to be a fireman.”
I’m so stunned he responded, all I can do is gape. “For real?”
Anger flashes over his features. “I didn’t say it would fucking happen. You just asked what I wanted. Whatever, man.”
“Don’t be so sensitive,” I grumble back. “It was just a question.”
His body relaxes. “I know this guy Mike. He’s a fireman. Cool as hell. Loves his job.”
Imagining Roan all decked out and sweaty in fireman gear is enough to make me want to faint all over again. Rather than embarrass myself, I close my eyes.
“I used to want to be a doctor.”
“Used to?” His voice is gruff.
“My dad’s a doctor. We’re not speaking anymore. Trying to figure out what I want to do now.”
“You look more like a substitute teacher if you ask me.”
And you look like an angry underwear model.
“No one asked,” I say instead.
Roan’s not so bad when he’s not under the influence of his friends.
“What are you doing after school?” he asks, his voice tight with some sort of hidden emotion.
“Going home.”
“Nope. Pick up Charlotte and bring her to basketball practice. Roux never has anyone to talk to.” He starts to get out of the car as Aunt Karen makes her way toward the parking lot from the building. I grab his arm to stop him.
“I’m not an errand boy.” I huff. “Besides, what would I do?”
“Play ball with us.” He shrugs. “I saw your jersey in the picture. Figured you played.”
“And snooped in my texts,” I grit out. “How did you even get into my phone anyway?”
“Fingerprint. Yours.”
“You seriously broke into my phone using my finger while I was passed out?”
“Yep.”
“Unbelievable.”
“Believe it, rat.”
“Fine.”
“Fine, what?”
“I’ll pick Charlotte up and bring her to the gymnasium. Penny has to come too, though.”
He smiles—real and beautiful. “I like that broody kid.”
“Are we…is this a truce?”
His features darken. “No. It’s you helping my fucking sister be happy because it’s the right thing to do.”
“Which makes you happy,” I bite back. “What the hell do I get out of it?”
“You keep from getting your ass kicked. I’ll call off the dogs.”
“For how long?”
“Depends on how long your sister stays friends with Roux.”
“Feels like blackmail.”
“Feels like the truth.”
Roan
Defeated.
Exhausted.
Ruined.
I know the feeling. I live it every day. For some reason, I’m fascinated with seeing it so blatantly displayed on someone else. Hollis. He’s still wearing the dirty pair of jeans from this morning, but it’s long since dried. I track him as he walks into the lunchroom. Alone.
“That kid is such a pussy,” Cal says with a laugh. “Did you see him nearly piss his pants this morning?”
Jordy growls. “The rat needs to watch his back.”
“What did he do to piss you guys off anyway?” Terrence asks as he shoves a handful of fries into his mouth. “Did he fuck your mom, Cal?”
“Don’t be a dick,” Cal bites out, whacking Terrence’s hand and sending his new handful of fries scattering across the table.
“He’s a rich asshole who thinks he’s better than us,” Jordy snaps. “And he knows about Roux.”
Cal and Terrence sober up.
“He’s messing with Roux?” Terrence demands, popping his knuckles. “That’s not right, man.”
With a sigh, I finally speak. “He’s Ms. Frazier’s nephew. Hollis lives there.”
“No shit?” Cal gapes at me from across the table. “Is he threatening to tell about your deal with his aunt?”
“Nah,” I say, “I already told him he’s not allowed to.”
“If the rat tries to use Roux against Roan, he’ll fucking pay,” Jordy warns.
My eyes drift back over to Hollis. He’s standing in line, now smiling brightly at some nerd and Sidney. Of course Sidney would be all up on his nuts. He’s the hot new kid. I’m surprised she hasn’t charmed him into her bed yet. Sid’s fucked every single one of us at this table except Jordy. Some of us more than a few times. That someone being me.
She notices my staring and makes a deliberate attempt to flirt with Hollis in an apparent effort to make me jealous. His smile is fake as fuck, but she believes it. I’m pretty sure he’s gay. Sidney is barking up the wrong tree. For some reason, this satisfies me. Not because I’m jealous of him sleeping with Sidney. I don’t even like Sidney most days. I just…I don’t think he needs to fuck her.
The nerd speaks up and somehow manages to engage Sidney in talking to him. Her flirtation fades as she has a serious conversation with the kid. Hollis seems to be relieved at the loss of her attention. He stares hard at the menu board, his jaw clenching. They go through the line and where the other two emerge with trays, he walks out holding an apple.
What the fuck?
I know he eats. I saw him eat at dinner last night. He barely touched the lasagna but filled up on bread and salad. I’d think he has some kind of stupid, prissy rich kid eating disorder, but now I’m not so sure. He has a muscular body. I caught a glimpse of his stomach yesterday and felt his biceps when I moved him to his car this morning. You don’t get fit like that and not eat. It’s like he’s sick.
My heart thuds hard in my chest, confusing me.
I get that nervous, worried feeling whenever something is wrong with Roux. Not some random kid I met yesterday and whom I also hate.
They sit at a table and he waves off offerings from both Sidney and the nerd. At least they notice it too. It’s strange he’s not eating.
“You think he’s fucking her?” Cal gestures toward them.
“Sidney is Hoodlum property,” Jordy snaps, challenging me with a glare to argue. “We’ll make sure he doesn’t.”
I nod, not because she’s our property, but because I don’t think Hollis will fuck her anyway. “I thought you didn’t like Sidney.”
Jordy’s dark eyes glitter evilly. “I don’t. She’s your and Cal and Terrence’s little slut.”
“Awfully protective of our little slut,” Cal teases him, batting his lashes at him in a dramatic way.
“Only always,” Cal says seriously, making me and Terrence snort.
“We’re done with her,” I offer. “You seem like you could get laid. Maybe time to finally hit that.”
“And catch whatever STDs you assholes are carrying? Fuck that,” Jordy says, taking a bite of his burger and talking over his chewing. “She’s all yours.”
He’s just fucking with us. My boys may like to fuck, but they use condoms. We all do.
Terrence launches into a heated story about the fight he had with his grandma over getting detention. I’m only half listening because my gaze drifts back to Hollis. He nibbles at his apple, grimacing with each swallow.
What’s going on with you, rat?
As though he can hear my inner thoughts, he lifts his gaze. His long, thick lashes seem to make his blue eyes pop out like bright stones in a clear lake. Because of his episode this morning and only eating an apple, his skin is stark white. He looks tired and his hand trembles when he rubs at the back of his neck. Our eyes never leave the other. I know he’s staring at me, but I don’t care at the moment. When he licks his plump, pink lips, heat burns down my spine. I’m embarrassed and should look away, but I don’t.
I fixate on how his lips now glisten.
I drag my stare along his pale throat, noticing the bulge of his Adam’s apple and wonder if it protrudes when he takes Lucas’s cock.
I’m sporting a chub in my sweats, which is fucked considering I hate this kid. I’ve never been attracted to a guy before. I like sex and have plenty of it…with girls. But my curiosity is strong. My mouth waters to taste him. To bite him. To kiss him.
Images of his mouth on mine are not bad ones. I don’t feel ashamed or grossed out. No, I’m fucking turned on. With a groan, I scrub my palm down my face before tearing my stare from him. Terrence is imitating his grandma, so I lose myself to his hilarious story.
Don’t look.
Don’t look.
I look a few times.
I’m distracted and practicing like shit. My eyes keep drifting to where Hollis sits with his sisters and mine on the bleachers in the gym. Coach Rendell is running us hard and I want to fall to the ground and die.
Terrence dribbles easily past me and throws the ball to Wyatt, who shoots. They make the basket and Coach yells at me.
“Come on, Hirsch! Would you rather play dolls with the girls?”
I grunt and try to focus on the next play. I’m tearing down the court when I hear Roux’s giggles. The ball falls from my grip and rolls out of bounds right over to Hollis. Coach yells at me again. Ignoring him, I trot up to them.
Hollis picks up the ball and throws it at me. Hard. Challenge gleams in his stare. Because I’m a dick, I throw it back at him, harder. Hoping to knock him on his ass. He catches it like it’s no big thing. We go back and forth, throwing the basketball to each other, harder and harder. Then, instead of throwing it back, he takes off with it. Flashes right by me, dribbling fast. I turn around to see him sidestep Jordy’s crazy ass, outrun Cal’s long legs, and then shoot over Terrence’s arms trying to block it. The fucker makes the basket from the three-point line.
Everyone just stares at Hollis.
“You go to school here?” Coach asks him.
“It’s Principal Frazier’s nephew,” Brody reveals like he’s a fucking gossip girl.
“No shit?” Coach grins. “Want to practice with us today?”
I expect Hollis to shrug him off or something, but he nods, an easy smile on his face. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Jordy shoots a death glare at him. Cal and Terrence don’t seem impressed either. I’m annoyed as fuck. Coach is going to want to replace me with a rat. Unbelievable.
The rest of practice, Hollis annihilates. He dominates the court. It’s surprising because he’s shorter than anyone on the team and just looks so…pretty and breakable. And considering he passed out this morning and only ate an apple, my mind is reeling.
Who is this kid?
I always have basketball. Even with Mom being a shit parent, and me taking care of Roux, I have this. Something I’m good at and call my own. Now, it feels as though it’s being taken away from me. Hollis has infiltrated my life in every aspect. School. Job. My sister’s friends. Basketball. Anger swells up inside of me. I know it’s probably unfair to blame him, but I do. Fuck him for being perfect at everything.
We’re all dripping with sweat and dying by the time practice ends. Coach tells Hollis to hit the showers and to grab some of the extra clothes to borrow since his are drenched. I shoot a look Roux’s way and when I see her happily talking with Charlotte and Penny on the bleachers, I head for the locker room.
Several guys are already undressing and talking to Hollis like he’s on the fucking team. Jordy, Terrence, and Cal all give him dirty looks. I know mine rivals theirs. As soon as Hollis’s smiling face looks my way, he flinches.
Damn right.
I hope he feels my anger radiating from me.
Is this how Dad felt all those times before he kicked someone’s ass?
The thought sobers me up and I breathe out heavily, trying to expel some of my dad’s rage. Hollis must sense my fury because he retreats toward the showers. He pulls off his hoodie and shirt, dropping them on a bench along the way. I take in his sculpted back and muscular shoulders. His hips are narrow and his jeans hang off his ass enough to reveal his black Hugo Boss underwear band. I’m still staring when he shoves his jeans down, showing off the tight globes of his ass.
“Who the fuck does he think he is?” Jordy demands, coming to stand beside me. “Coach acted like he was some basketball god. I’ll be damned if he plays on this team.”
I tear my eyes from Hollis when he pushes down his underwear. I’m not going to lust over my fucking nemesis, especially when I don’t even understand why I feel this way in the first place. My dick may be confused, but my mind knows exactly what’s up. Hollis is a little bitch who’s getting in my way.
“His aunt is the principal, man,” I bite out. “Coach will put him in.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t play,” Jordy threatens. “Hard to play ball with broken wrists.”
I sling my arm over Jordy’s shoulders. “We’ll figure out some other way to knock him down a few pegs. Don’t take this away from Roux.”
Defeated, Jordy relaxes. “I never heard her laugh like that, Roan. Ever.”
“She likes Charlotte a lot. Unfortunately, Charlotte is Hollis’s little sister. We just need to be careful where the girls are concerned.”
He nods. “I may hate that kid, but I’d never do Roux dirty. You know that.”
“I do and that’s why you’re my best friend.”
I stick my tongue in his ear just to piss him off. He shoves me away and swipes at his ear, laughing. Truth be told, Jordy’s laugh is one I don’t hear often either. It’s a good sound. A real good sound.
The four of us cut up while we undress. Hollis is leaving the showers as we enter. I stay back and nod for my friends to keep going. My towel is wadded up in my hand, covering my junk, thank fuck, because my body is reacting to his.
Why does this asshole have to look so good?
With his hair wet, it no longer looks blond, but instead brown. Water rivulets run down his muscular pecs and down his tight abs. His obliques are a beacon, directing the eye down to where his towel is wrapped at his waist, covering his dick. The blond hair below his belly button glistens and my mouth waters wondering what he tastes like right there.
“Keep staring at me like that and people are going to wonder,” he says, his voice low and meant only for me.
I walk right up to him, our noses nearly touching. “Wonder what, rat?”
“Why Roan is sporting a hard-on for the new guy.”
Smug ass motherfucker.
“I don’t have a hard-on, freak.”
His lips twist up on one side in a half grin. Blue eyes twinkl
e with mischief. “But you will.”
My jaw clenches. “You’re fucking with danger.”
“I can’t help that danger looks so good.”
What is this?
Is he fucking flirting with me?
I grab one of his shoulders to push him away, but my greedy hand won’t let go. I’m transfixed by the way his muscles feel in my grip.
“Don’t forget that I hate you,” I snarl, squeezing his shoulder.
He breaks free from my grasp. “Don’t forget that you hate me when you’re jerking off later.”
With those words, he leaves me with the hard-on he promised.
Fuck him.
Problem is, I kind of want to.
Hollis
Me: I made the team.
Lucas responds immediately.
Lucas: You told me you weren’t trying out!
Me: It sort of happened.
Lucas: Of course it did. Story of your life, golden boy. All the good things fall into your lap.
Like you, I think bitterly. But then he ended it.
Me: So who’s the lucky lady nowadays?
The dots move and then stop. I frown as I wait for him to respond. Ten agonizing minutes later, he sends me a text.
Lucas: Eric.
Eric? Eric from our team Eric? Eric, who last I checked, was dating some college chick?
Me: Ha ha.
Lucas: Truth, man. People know now…that I’m bi. I worried over nothing.
Acid burns in my gut. For months, we slept around in secret, kissed in corners, and kept our friendship turned lovers relationship on the down-low. And in the few weeks I’ve been gone, he’s suddenly come out and openly dating someone from our team?
Me: Congrats.
“Who pissed in your Cheerios?”
I nearly drop my phone and dart my head up. Roan stands in the doorway of my room, his hands gripping the doorframe as he leans in. It does amazing things for his biceps, making them strain against his T-shirt. The bottom of his shirt rises up to reveal toned, tanned flesh.
“What?” I stammer, dragging my stare from his body and back to his face.
“You look irritated and you hadn’t even seen me yet.” He flashes me a smug grin.