by Becca Steele
“Why are we here?” He climbed out of the car, stretching, and I definitely didn’t notice the way his muscles flexed. No, I was immune to Weston’s charms.
“I didn’t know where else to go. You need to get some rest.”
He nodded. “Okay,” he said softly. I’d never seen him so subdued, and another rush of guilt suffocated me.
This was my fault.
I led him through the house to the bedrooms. My parents were on a different level to me, thankfully, because I really didn’t want to have to explain why Weston was here so late in the evening, drunk, without Cassius.
Stopping outside the door to the guest room that he normally used when he stayed over, I turned to him. “Get some rest. You’ll feel better if you sleep it off.”
“Will you stay?” He stared at me from beneath his thick lashes, his eyes imploring me. “Just for a bit. I don’t…I don’t wanna be alone.”
“Okay. Just for a bit, then. My parents will kill me, and probably you, if they find us together.”
He gave me a half-smile at that as he stepped into the room and kicked off his trainers. “Nah, your parents love me.”
Pulling off my own boots, I glanced around the room, deciding I’d hang out on the sofa. It converted into a bed, but since I wasn’t planning on staying long, there was no point converting it. “Blinds down?” I waved my hand towards the floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased the view over the ocean. Our house was built into the cliffs, and most rooms looked out over the horizon.
“Not yet. Come here?”
I looked up to find him lying on his back on the huge bed, watching me through heavy-lidded eyes. How was I supposed to resist him? My defences couldn’t handle the full force of his attention.
Instead of replying, I moved towards the bed. It was probably a bad idea, but I’d just stay as far from him as possible. The bed was massive; it would be easy enough to keep my distance.
He seemed to have other ideas. As I reached the bed, he sat up and tugged me so I fell into him, then wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
Stiffening, I went to pull away, but I was stopped by his voice, cracked and broken.
“I need you.”
My flimsy defences melted away, and I let my body curl into his, tentatively laying my arm across his chest. So many feelings were overwhelming me—need, want, guilt, and underneath it all, the dread that I couldn’t seem to shake, no matter how much I told myself that I could trust Weston. That fear stopped me from getting close.
“Thank you,” he murmured, and I felt a whisper of a kiss on the top of my head as my eyes closed.
The next thing I knew, my eyes were flying open at the sound of my mum’s voice, hissing somewhere close to my ear.
“Lena Damaris Drummond!”
I became aware that I was lying in pretty much the same position I’d fallen asleep in—head buried in Weston’s shoulder, one arm slung across his body, and his arm wrapped around me. We were on top of the covers, fully clothed, but I knew I had some explaining to do.
Weston was somehow still asleep. Lifting my head, I carefully dislodged his arm and slipped away from his body, before turning to face my mum with a finger to my lips.
She frowned at me but remained silent as she followed me out into the hallway, where I closed the door behind us. I walked far enough down the hallway that Weston wouldn’t hear us if he woke up, then stopped.
“Go on, then.” She raised her brows expectantly.
“What?”
“Explain to me what I walked into this morning.” Folding her arms, she leaned against the wall. There was humour in her gaze, and I relaxed slightly. If my dad had been the one to find us…yeah, I would’ve been a lot less relaxed.
“It’s not my story to tell,” I began. “But West has fallen out with the others. Like, properly fallen out with them. He-he was really upset and he wanted to get away and I didn’t know what to do,” I finished in a rush.
My mum’s expression morphed into one of concern. “Oh no. I’ll call Arlo?” She phrased it like a question, and I shook my head.
“No. Um. Arlo’s involved in it, kind of, so I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Right. In that case, let’s get some breakfast ready. I take it Weston had been drinking last night?” She knew about the party. Lucky for me, she was pretty chill about everything. Both my parents were, in general.
“Yes. I didn’t drink, though. Also, nothing happened with…” I trailed off, my cheeks heating, making my mum laugh.
“Oh, Lena. I know. You were both fully clothed on top of the bed.” Strolling off down the hallway, she tossed over her shoulder, “He’d make a wonderful son-in-law, by the way.”
“Mum, please.” I groaned.
“Just saying.” She smiled innocently as I caught up with her at the bottom of the stairs that led to the upper floor, and I rolled my eyes, choosing not to respond. I needed to end this conversation. Now.
“Give me ten mins? I want to have a shower and change.” Without waiting for an answer, I began backing away from her, heading in the direction of my bedroom. She smirked at me, before making her way up the stairs.
“What do you think your boyfriend would like for breakfast?” she asked from the open fridge as I rejoined her in the kitchen after my shower. We normally had staff who prepared food, but at the weekends my parents liked to do their own thing.
“Mum!”
“Okay, okay. I won’t say another word.” She mimed zipping her lips shut, causing me to roll my eyes yet again.
“Let’s do a fry-up,” I decided. “Do we have all the stuff?”
“Avocado on toast? With poached eggs?” she countered.
“If you want to make that, why are you asking me?”
“I’m only teasing you. I know Weston would rather have a fried breakfast.” Pulling a carton of eggs out of the fridge, she smiled at me. “I’ll do the eggs, you do the mushrooms.”
We worked in silence, preparing the food. My dad wandered in when it was almost ready. “Mmm, something smells good.” He placed a kiss on the top of my mum’s head, before heading over to me and doing the same. “Four plates?”
“Yes. West’s here.”
He raised a brow at me. “Without Cassius?”
I nodded. “Yeah. They’ve had a falling-out, so please be nice.”
Tutting, he began setting out the pile of plates around the table. “Me? I’m always nice.”
“Hmmm. Just…be tactful, okay?”
“I am the epitome of discretion, I’ll have you know.” He waltzed off to the coffee machine and turned it on.
“Okay, but please don’t mention Cass to him. Or Zayde. Or Caiden. Oh, Winter, too.”
He laughed, clearly not taking me seriously enough. “Anyone else?”
“His dad. Actually, it might be better if you just don’t talk at all.”
“Sure. Would you like—” His sarcastic words came to an abrupt halt as Weston came in, barefoot and rubbing his eyes. All tousled hair and sleepy, in his faded jeans and grey T-shirt, he looked gorgeous. Then, I took in the sadness in his eyes, and my mouth turned down.
My mum, intuitive as ever, took the initiative. “Morning, West. Take a seat at the table. Breakfast is ready.”
He slid into a seat, and I took the one across from him. We were mostly silent as we all ate, my dad trying to lighten the mood by drawing Weston into a conversation about cars. Weston replied in monosyllables, and I spent the entire time pushing my food around my plate, my appetite gone as the guilt gnawed at my insides.
I thought I’d been doing the right thing. But I hadn’t. I’d hurt the boy I loved irreparably.
And if he found out the part I’d played, he might never forgive me.
ELEVEN
My entire world had gone dark.
Cade, Cass, and my dad were blowing up my phone, but I ignored their calls and messages. My initial anger had turned to numbness, but every now and then, the stabbing pain would rag
e through me. Losing my mum when I was only thirteen had left a huge hole in my life, and the thought that my family and closest friends had been keeping a secret from me had really fucking hurt.
The day passed in a blur, Lena a constant presence yet giving me my own space. After she’d dragged me into the media room, that was. I zoned out, watching mindless action movies while she curled up in a chair off to the side of the room, working on her laptop. I couldn’t even remember what I ate; everything was bland and tasteless.
That night, sleep finally pulled me under sometime around 4:00 a.m., and I woke late in the morning, with the sun high in the sky.
I knew where I wanted to go.
Palming my keys in my hand, I pushed down on the latch of the wrought iron gate that led into the small hilltop cemetery. I made my way up the familiar winding path and picked my way across to the black marble headstone that marked my mum’s resting place.
Joanne Cavendish. Beloved wife and mother.
Suicide. Could I have seen the warning signs? Was there anything else I could have done?
Sinking to the ground, I leaned my head against the cool marble. “I’m sorry, Mum. Sorry I failed you. I wish I’d known. I wish…I wish things could have been different. I wish I could’ve helped you.”
By the time I’d finished speaking, my throat was raw and my eyes were stinging, swollen from the tears I’d finally given in to.
Blowing out a heavy breath, I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent a text to the one person that I knew would be there for me, the person who understood my situation and hadn’t let me down.
Me: I need you to make me forget.
When the reply came, the relief was instant.
Come to me.
The Drummond home was silent as I entered the foyer, using the key Lena had given me. I headed into the huge open lounge area, and there she was. Silhouetted against a wall of glass, the sun setting over the sea behind her, she looked…
She’d dressed down in loose black cotton trousers and a black vest top, and her ever-permanent black eye makeup was absent. As I approached her, she held up a bag, the sound of bottles clinking inside. She eyed me cautiously for a moment, before dropping her gaze, licking her lips.
Nervous. Lena was nervous?
“Want to get drunk and high?”
All I could do was nod. Although she wasn’t looking at me, she turned on her heel and headed for the doors that led out to one of the outside areas. All white stone, looking out over the sea, there was a firepit and a covered area with huge outdoor cube-shaped sofas, big enough to lie on.
She paused in the doorway. “Wait. I got your stuff. It’s in the guest room.”
“Thanks.” I’d asked her if she could persuade Cassius to bring me some of my clothes while I was at the cemetery. “I’ll grab a shower and change, then meet you out here?”
When I returned, feeling more human, Lena was curled up on one of the sofas, stretching out her legs in front of her. Glancing up at me, she patted the space next to her. Kicking off my shoes, I crawled onto the sofa and reclined back, propped up by the cushions behind me.
“West?” Her voice was low and hesitant.
I took a deep breath. “I don’t want to talk. I want to forget.”
“Okay.”
Fuck knows how much time had passed, but by the time I was feeling numb, the sky was completely dark, dotted with stars, and the only light came from the firepit and the dim glow of the lights that were inlaid into the floor, illuminating the walkways.
Finishing up the last of the joint I’d been sharing with Lena, I flicked the stub away and rolled onto my side, almost completely horizontal by this point. The alcohol and weed had left me with no fucking filter, because when I opened my mouth, what came out was “Why is it weird between us lately?”
Lena stared at me, her mouth opening and closing for a moment, before she turned back to stare up at the sky. “I don’t know.”
Propping myself up on my elbow, I reached out and ran a finger down her arm, watching with satisfaction as goosebumps pebbled along her skin.
Fuck. I shouldn’t be touching her. But I didn’t want to stop. “I do. I think you like me.”
Her breath hitched, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
My dick stirred, and I shifted my position. As much as the drinks and the weed had lowered my inhibitions around her, something was telling me that I needed to take it slow with this girl.
But, fuck.
We might never get this chance again.
“I wanted to kiss you on Friday night at the party.” I admitted the truth that I hadn’t even been able to admit to myself at the time. “Did you want me to kiss you?”
She remained silent as I let my finger trail up her arm again and onto her collarbone. Her chest rose and fell, her breath coming faster. “You’re so responsive,” I murmured, as my finger continued to journey across her collarbone, up her neck, and finally to her lips.
A tiny whimper escaped her as I traced the outline of her lips. “Guess what?” I leaned closer, my breath skating across her skin. I waited until her eyelids fluttered open again and she met my gaze. “I know I probably shouldn’t, but I really want to kiss you right now.”
A soft gasp escaped her lips; then they parted slightly, and her tongue darted out to touch the tip of my finger.
That was the only sign I needed. My hand moved to cup her jaw. “I need…I want to forget.”
I could feel her soft tremble, but she inclined her head towards me, and I slanted my mouth over hers. She melted beneath me as I explored her mouth, touching, teasing, tasting. Her hand slid up around the back of my neck, holding me in place as her body shivered against mine.
Fuck. She tasted so good.
Through the haze of alcohol and weed, my brain reminded me that this wasn’t a good idea. Drunk, high, confused, and all the other fucked-up emotions I’d been experiencing—I didn’t need to drag Lena into my shit. Not to mention, Cass would kill me. If I ever spoke to him again.
With an effort, I drew back, leaving her lying there staring up at me with wide eyes, her lips wet and swollen. She sucked in a shaky breath, then cleared her throat. “Uh.”
I waited, but it didn’t seem like she was planning on saying anything else. “Wanna watch something?” I suggested, when the silence became uncomfortable.
“Yeah.” Her mouth curved up into a half-smile, and before I knew what I was doing, I found myself pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Straightening up, I grinned down at her as she rubbed her hand across her face, gathering herself.
We stumbled back inside, not drunk but both of us buzzed enough that our progress was unsteady. She began heading in the direction of the media room, but I caught her arm, tugging her back against my chest. “Your room.” I didn’t miss her shiver at my low command, and I smiled again, loving the way her body fit perfectly against mine, her reaction to me heady and intoxicating.
Of course, Lena being Lena, she pulled away from me. I could almost see her shields dropping back into place as she took off down the stairs towards her bedroom.
When I crashed through her doorway, steadying myself on the frame, she was hitting the keyboard that stood in front of the huge monitor on her desk. I didn’t even look at the screen. My brain had shut down, and all I wanted was to feel her body against me again. Stalking up behind her, I gripped her around her waist, pulling her into my chest, and threw us both back on the bed.
“Wait!” The urgency in Lena’s tone made me pause.
“What’s wrong?”
Her eyes flicked between me and her desk, and then she composed herself. “Nothing. What do you want to watch?”
“Whatever you want.”
“What about that new series about serial killers?”
I took in the expression on her face and raised a brow. “Serial killers, huh?”
She nodded. “Yep.”
With a shrug, I settled back against her headboard. “Yeah, okay. Sounds g
ood.”
Hours later, I woke, my eyes gritty and my mouth dry. Dragging my phone from my pocket, I squinted at the screen. Four forty-two in the morning. The room was dark, but I could dimly make out Lena curled up on the far side of her bed, away from me. Careful not to disturb her, I moved off the bed and headed into her bathroom, where I downed a glass of water and helped myself to her mouthwash.
Feeling more human, I returned to her bedroom, leaving the bathroom light on and the door ajar so I could see what I was doing. My keys had been digging into my leg, left in my pocket for however many hours I’d been lying there, so I fished them out and placed them on Lena’s desk, as soundlessly as I could. As I slid my hand away, I knocked Lena’s computer mouse, waking up the screen. The TV app was still open, scrolling through the menu showing the latest available series.
I hit the button to close out of the app, and at the same time, a blinking message alert in the corner of the screen caught my eye.
A very familiar message alert.
What the fuck? Clicking on the icon, I was faced with a login screen I knew all too well.
Wait.
The pieces fell into place.
Striding over to the bed, I flicked on the bedside lamp, then shook Lena’s shoulder, gritting my teeth. There had to be an explanation for this.
Her eyes flew open, and as she took in the expression on my face, hers paled. “What’s happened?”
“You’ve got some explaining to do, Lena.” I took a harsh breath. “Or should I call you Mercury?”
TWELVE
This couldn’t be happening. It was a dream. No, not a dream. A nightmare. But as I stared up at Weston, watching his face torn between anger and pleading, I knew I had to come clean.
Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I cleared my throat, pulling myself into a seated position.
“What are you talking about?” My voice was shaky.