Stay With Me (A Wattpad Novel)

by Jessica Cunsolo

  “I guess,” I sigh. “Maybe not the drama and threats from Aiden’s dad, but I guess everything else.”

  “I know. Andrew Kessler needs to calm his balls,” Annalisa scoffs. “He called Aiden again an hour or two ago.”

  I snap to attention when she says that. “What did he want?”

  Annalisa sits up and rubs the sand off of her hands. “Julian told me that Andrew told Aiden he has one more chance to reconsider talking to the reporters or else he’ll have to take ‘drastic measures’ to stop him.”

  My eyebrows draw together. “What does ‘drastic measures’ mean?”

  Anna shrugs. “Beats me. He was already a shitty person to begin with, and no fancy suits can cover that up, so I wouldn’t underestimate him.”

  “What did Aiden say?”

  “He told him to go fuck himself and that his meeting with Vivienne Henfrey tomorrow night is happening whether he likes it or not,” she answers, smiling at Aiden’s confidence.

  Good. I hope Aiden takes down his disgusting deadbeat dad, even if I won’t be there to help him. I’m glad he decided to do it after all, but it makes me more resolved than ever to leave.

  Erin’s Pre-NYE party is apparently so big that the cops come to break it up pretty early, much to everyone’s dismay. By the time we stumble back to the beach house, it’s only one in the morning.

  The babysitter tells us that the twins are upstairs sleeping before Aiden pays her and drives her home (since he didn’t have anything to drink). The rest of us (mostly the half who are happily intoxicated) decide one o’clock is the perfect time to cook up a feast and continue drinking.

  Annalisa, Charlotte, and I barely drank, but since we don’t trust the guys to operate heavy kitchen appliances while drunk, we stay up and cook for them.

  “Isn’t this ironic?” Noah plops himself down on the stool at the kitchen counter. “The men sitting around drinking beer and the women in the—”

  Annalisa cuts him off by pulling a knife from the wooden block and pointing it at him from across the kitchen, her eyes narrowed.

  “Finish that sentence with a joke about how women belong barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. I dare you.”

  Noah gulps, his eyes wide. “I was gonna say something about the women looking so pretty and being so nice and generous and taking care of us …”

  Annalisa rolls her eyes but smirks anyway and puts the knife down on the counter. “That’s exactly what I thought.”

  Mason takes a seat on the stool beside Noah, beer in hand. “What are you making for our feast? I want a full, four-course meal!”

  “You’re getting grilled cheese,” I deadpan, already buttering the bread.

  He frowns. “But we want—”

  Annalisa picks up the knife again, and like she did with Noah, points it at him from across the kitchen.

  “Grilled cheese. That’s what you were going to say, right?”

  Mason eyes Annalisa and compliantly nods. “I love grilled cheese.”

  Annalisa smiles triumphantly and holds up the knife to inspect it. “Wow, this knife is great at getting the Boys to do whatever we want.”

  Julian puts his arm around her as he opens the fridge to grab another beer.

  “It’s not the knife, it’s the crazy, murderous, I’m not afraid to cut you alive and wear your skin as pajamas look you have in your eyes,” he jokes, and she laughs as she play hits him and wiggles out of his embrace.

  We make so much grilled cheese that we finish two packages of bread. There’s a pile of sandwiches on the stove so that Aiden is able to have some when he gets back.

  I’m sitting on the floor eating my own grilled cheese while playing a board game with Mason, Annalisa, and Noah, trying to ignore Aiden in the other room.

  “Earth to k-bear! It’s your turn.” Mason taps me on the forehead.

  “Oh, sorry.” I shake my head and roll the dice so I can move my piece across the board.

  “It’s okay, you were probably just distracted by my godlike abs.” Mason smirks at me, and any girl who wasn’t already in love with Aiden would’ve melted.

  “You’re wearing a shirt, Mason,” I inform him with a laugh, content with pretending that any tension we’ve had the last few days doesn’t exist.

  He swiftly pulls his shirt over his head in a way that would’ve been shot in slow motion if this was a movie. “Not anymore.” He smiles cheekily.

  “Oh no. Mason’s taking his clothes off. Now you know he’s drunk.” Annalisa shakes her head with an exhausted smile.

  “Like we didn’t already know that,” Noah says. “Dude, put your shirt back on.”

  “Why?” Mason smiles innocently. “Amelia likes it, right, k-bear?”

  Mason is not unattractive in the slightest—he could probably get a professional modeling contract if he tried—but he’s just not the guy I’m interested in looking at shirtless.

  “Put your clothes back on, Mason.” I laugh as I finish my sandwich.

  “Don’t lie, k-bear. We all know you want it,” he teases, flexing his pecs so that they bounce in a mesmerizing manner.

  “Oh yeah, Mason. The only reason I told you to put your shirt back on is because it’s the only thing stopping me from jumping your bones,” I say incredibly sarcastically.

  He either consciously chooses to ignore the sarcasm or is too drunk to notice it, because he smiles widely with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

  “Nothing’s stopping you right now!” He smiles.

  My eyes widen as he takes me off guard, leaning over and sort of tackling me, pinning me under him, and starts tickling me.

  “Mason!” I manage to yell between forced giggles, incapable of pushing him off of me. “Stop!”

  All of a sudden, his weight is lifted off of me, and I wipe the resulting tears from my eyes as I sit up. Aiden is standing over us, having pulled Mason off of me, and he looks incredibly pissed off.

  “What the hell, man?” Mason complains. “What’s your problem? We were just playing!”

  “You’re my problem,” Aiden deadpans, his eyes bold and fiery.

  Mason stands up to face Aiden, and I exchange a nervous glance with Noah and Annalisa.

  “It’s not my fault you grew tired of Amelia like you did with every other girl before her,” Mason spits out venomously.

  “That’s not what happened,” Aiden practically growls.

  “Either way, it’s clearly over and Amelia is up for grabs.” Mason smirks maliciously.

  I stand up, feeling taken aback that Mason would talk about me like that, like I was an old CD or used baseball bat that Aiden no longer wanted and was therefore passed down to Mason.

  “She is not ‘up for grabs,’ she’s a fucking person.” Aiden reads my mind, looking like he’s trying very hard to remain calm.

  “Well, either way.” Mason squares off with him. “You fucked up and lost your chance.”

  What is happening?!

  Noah and Annalisa stand up and move beside me, not really knowing what to do.

  Aiden’s eyes are trained on Mason. “You’re supposed to be my best friend, but you sense the tiniest sliver of tension and you’re already trying to steal my girl?”

  “She shouldn’t even be with you!” Mason exclaims. “I was her friend. I was nice to her when she was the new girl. You were nothing but a closed off asshole to her and she still chose you!”

  Aiden’s eyes narrow to deadly slits, all the muscles in his body tense. “You know nothing about my relationship with Amelia.”

  “But I know Amelia. And I know she’d be happier with me.”

  Aiden releases a humorless chuckle, one that conveys he in no way finds Mason amusing. “Believe me, you do not know Amelia.”

  “Guys, please. Let’s just cool off,” I cut in, then turn to look at Mason. “You’re drunk. Why don’t you sober up and we can talk about this like adults in the morning?”

  I look at Aiden. “You know he’s drunk. I know it’s not an excuse, b
ut let’s just take a walk before you say something you’ll regret,” I tell him, putting emphasis on the last part as a reminder that he needs to keep my past a secret and not reveal it in a petty ego competition.

  He whips his head over to look at me, taking his steady glare off of Mason for the first time. “I would never,” he promises, looking all the way into my soul, trying to convey the seriousness of his words.

  Julian walks into the room with Charlotte and Chase, and they immediately notice the tension.

  “What’s going on here?” Julian asks.

  Noah sips his beer. “Mason decided to grow a pair at the wrong time.”

  Mason’s head swivels over to look at Noah. “Says the guy who’s still trying to sleep with the girl his best friend has pined over for years.”

  Noah practically slams his beer down. “I didn’t know!”

  “Everyone knew!” Mason counters.

  This is getting out of hand now. It already was, but now things are really heating up. We need to calm down before shit hits the fan and explodes all over us.

  “Okay, everyone needs to take a breather,” I announce. “If you’re drinking, pick a sober buddy you’re not currently fighting with and go for a walk.”

  “Great idea,” Mason says to me, downing the last of his beer. “K-bear, you’re my buddy.”

  Aiden steps in front of me before Mason can grab my arm. “Really, Mason? After what we just said?”

  I move around Aiden so I can see what’s going on.

  “All we talked about was how I’m a better man for Amelia. So, yeah. Really.” On the last word, Mason shoves Aiden for emphasis.

  Caught off guard, Aiden is forced to step back to catch his balance, but he recovers quickly.

  “Don’t start a fight you can’t win,” Aiden threatens in a low voice, the double meaning not lost on anyone.

  Julian steps up. “Mason, just calm down, man.”

  While Mason and Aiden are in a stare-off, Julian puts his hand on Mason’s shoulder, which sets off an inevitable chain reaction. Mason immediately turns around and pushes Julian away from him, then in one motion, turns back around and swings at Aiden.

  Aiden expertly dodges the punch, but now he’s pissed—even more than before. He tackles Mason and they fall to the floor in a tornado of punches and insults. It’s less a fight and more Aiden trying to restrain Mason—he’s drunk, and Aiden’s still a good friend. He knows it wouldn’t be a fair fight and Mason’s not really in his right mind.

  Somehow, Mason slips Aiden’s grip and ends up on top of him, getting a hit in on his face, all the while insulting him. Of course, this really angers Aiden, and I can tell he’s going to stop playing nice.

  I barely take a second to think. All I see are two of the most important boys in my life physically fighting over something unworthy of either of their time—me.

  Aiden flips them over so that Mason is pinned under him, and is about to throw his first real punch, which I’m sure would knock Mason out cold, when I instinctively reach out and grab his right arm, stopping him from landing the hit.

  “Aiden, come on,” I beg, not letting go of his arm.

  He looks at Mason, who’s on the floor with a bloody split lip, and then back at my pleading eyes, as if contemplating if it was worth it.

  He sighs and shrugs my hand off his arm, and shoots Mason a chilling glare as he gets off of him. Nevertheless, Aiden still holds out a hand to help Mason up, which Mason swiftly swats aside.

  He stands up on his own and drags the back of his hand across his mouth to wipe away the blood, all while staring Aiden down. “I wasn’t done kicking your ass,” he slurs, grabbing Aiden by the collar of his shirt.

  Damn it, why won’t he just calm down?!

  Since I clearly just love jumping into the middle of fights, I move to pull them apart. Some part of my mind registers Aiden, Julian, Chase, and Noah yelling at me to stop, but it’s too late. I come up behind Mason, and when I try to pull him away, he draws his arm back to throw a punch at Aiden, his elbow slamming into my face at full force.

  “Son of a—” My hands automatically fly to my face as a nauseating pain radiates from my nose throughout my face.

  I feel multiple pairs of hands on me but I shrug them off, focused only on the coppery taste of my own blood, which I have no idea where it’s coming from. A pair of hands land on me that send sparks up my spine and I stop resisting.

  “Amelia, stop squirming. Let me see,” a calm, deep, and comforting voice demands.

  I force myself to straighten up and look at Aiden, keeping my hands on my face, as if trying to shove the blood back where it came from.

  “This hurts like a fucking bitch, geez,” I complain, my eyes watering from the pulsing sting.

  “Come on, let’s go take a look at it,” Aiden says in an authoritative tone, ushering me up the stairs and into the bathroom in my room.

  As we’re walking, Mason continuously says he’s sorry, and one of the other guys orders him to go for a walk with them to cool off.

  Aiden closes the door to my room as we walk in, as well as the bathroom door once we’re inside. He puts his hands on my waist and effortlessly picks me up and places me gently on top of the counter. If I wasn’t so focused on trying to stop the bleeding, I would’ve blushed or swooned or something.

  He gets two small towels and wets them both with warm water.

  “Move your hands, Thea,” he gently commands, and I obediently comply.

  He hands me one of the towels to clean my hands, and uses the other to gently mop up the blood on my face. When he pulls the blood-soaked towel away, my eyes widen in horror.

  “Please tell me I didn’t break my nose,” I beg, eyeballing all the blood.

  That much blood means it’s broken, right? I knew someone who got a soccer ball to the face and their nose never healed properly, and now they have trouble breathing through it.

  He gently moves my head around to examine my nose. “No, I don’t think so. At least it stopped bleeding.”

  We make eye contact and my heartbeat elevates.

  “Why are you being so nice to me? I thought you hated me?”

  Aiden smiles sadly. “Were you not present during that whole thing ten minutes ago?”

  “Well, mostly,” I joke and motion to my face, which is probably swelling. “But I thought you hated me?”

  Aiden’s lips pull up in one corner. “I don’t hate you.”

  He doesn’t hate me. I feel like since our fight I’ve been having trouble breathing, but now the polluted air has cleared and all I smell is fresh air and flowers. Or I guess technically right now all I smell is blood, but at least I can breathe again.

  “How are you so calm right now?” I can’t help but ask.

  His eyebrows draw together. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. Usually you get all ‘What did I tell you about jumping into fights. You could get hurt,’ blah, blah, blah,” I say in my best Aiden voice.

  “First of all, I don’t sound like that.” He takes the bloody towel from my hands and throws it in the sink.

  He puts his hands on the counter on either side of my legs, trapping me between his strong arms.

  “And I guess I’ve come to learn that you’re a lot stronger than we give you credit for,” he says in a low voice, his lips so close to mine.

  Before I can even process the weight of his words or his closeness, he ruins the moment by leaning back and adding, “Plus, I wanted to make sure you were okay before lecturing you. I mean really, Thea? What were you thinking? Every time you jump in you end up getting hurt. Why can’t you just let other people deal with it?”

  I catch him eyeing my—now bloodstained—taped-up fingers and move them out of sight.

  “I was thinking that I didn’t want you guys ripping each other to shreds over something so stupid. Are you even okay? Is Mason?”

  I was so preoccupied with my stupid bloody mess that I haven’t even considered if they’re
okay. Aiden looks fine, not even a scratch on him.

  “We’re okay. Let’s not change the subject.” He dismisses my question. “Next time, if you see someone fighting, don’t jump in, okay? I was handling it.”

  I stop myself from exploding on him. Don’t jump in? That’s like asking Nutella to stop being so delicious. Basically impossible. To Aiden, I say, “You were not handling it. You were going to eat him!”

  “I was not going to eat him.”

  “Obviously, I mean figuratively, not literally. You were eyeing him like you were trying to decide which size platter would best fit his head.”

  “Can you really blame me? If it was anyone else their head would’ve already been on that platter before I even thought about it.”

  I frown and look down at my lap. “He was emotional and drunk. He didn’t mean it.”

  He narrows his perceptive eyes at me. “Didn’t he though?”

  “I mean—I don’t know. Maybe? I don’t really want to think about it.”

  Aiden runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Why are you so damn content to ignore the way Mason’s been acting this whole trip?”

  I shrink into myself. “How has he been acting?”

  “Like a giant, fucking, self-absorbed, entitled prick!”

  I shrug, feeling like nothing I say can be a good enough excuse. Because I know what I have to tell Mason, and that I’ll ruin his life, and I can’t do it.

  I can feel Aiden’s frustration rising, but he takes a calming breath. “I know you. You’re so perceptive. You can’t really not notice what’s going on.”

  “I just … I don’t know.” I think about the last few days. Really think about them, and try to be honest about what I’m feeling. “Every time I look at Mason, I think about Brian and my mom. And then I feel guilty for knowing and that it’s my mom who’s helping break his family …” I trail off, not meeting Aiden’s gaze.

  “You’re mistaking guilt for not understanding he’s putting moves on you. I get that he’s going to be in a bad spot when he finds out, but you can’t let that excuse him from being a shitty friend,” Aiden says.

  I know he’s right. “It won’t matter soon anyway.”