Wicked Liars: A High School Bully Romance (Windsor Academy Book 1)

by Laura Lee

  With that, the guys and I peel out of the parking lot without a backward glance.

  “I NEVER GOT A CHANCE to ask you. How’d your date with Jazzy Jazz go the other night?”

  Bentley throws his controller to the side when I score another touchdown on Madden. After Peyton’s verbal beatdown earlier, he and I came back to his place to hang. Reed claimed to have dinner plans with his mom, but I’m not buying it. He and my sister have been acting really weird lately and I intend to figure out what that shit’s about.

  I take a long pull from my beer. “It wasn’t a date.”

  He laughs. “Right.”

  “It wasn’t,” I repeat. “It’s all part of the plan. I need to keep her close to ensure she doesn’t go running her mouth and fuck everything up for me.”

  Bentley rolls his eyes. “C’mon, dawg. Are you really going to play it like that? You’re into this girl—why is that so hard for you to admit?”

  Because she makes me lose sight of my goal, and I don’t like that.

  I grunt in response, earning another laugh from this asshole.

  “How’d you know about her little sister anyway?”

  I pick at the label on the bottle. “John dug it up. Jasmine’s call history showed multiple attempts to reach the kid’s father, but they only connected once. When I showed up at his house, he admitted she was trying to arrange a visit, but he claimed not to have the time to deal with it. He changed his tune really fast when I pulled out a wad of bills. Miraculously, he agreed to allow Jazz weekly visits with her sister as long as the money keeps coming.”

  Bentley frowned. “Why would he want to keep them away from each other? You’d think at the very least, he’d like getting a free babysitter out of it.”

  I shrug. “I get the impression it’s a power play... like, he wants leverage over Jazz. The way he looks at her isn’t right.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “Like in a skeevy way?”

  I nod. “Exactly. It was almost identical to how my dad looked at her. I wanted to knock his fucking teeth out.”

  “You wanted to knock his teeth out... for a girl you have no feelings for whatsoever?”

  “Just because I don’t have any feelings for her, doesn’t mean I want her to become some sick fuck’s plaything.” I take another drink of my beer. “Speaking of sick fucks... you won’t believe what John dug up on Jasmine’s mom.”

  “Are you waiting for a fucking invitation? Spill.”

  “Get this—for whatever reason, Callahan didn’t follow his typical pattern with Jasmine’s mom—besides the fact that she was only seventeen, maybe eighteen when he brought her in. She lived with him for over three years in the mansion. And she was formally employed as a live-in maid until shortly after Jazz’s second birthday, which means Jazz also lived at that house. Even after Charles married Madeline. I found a picture of me and Ains playing with Jasmine as a toddler. I’m pretty sure Jazz has no fucking clue. As far as she’s concerned, they first met after her mom died.”

  “Oh snap,” Bentley mutters. “This shit is complicated.”

  “No kidding,” I agree. “My PI dug up some other stuff that makes it even worse. My head’s been spinning nonstop.”

  “Jazzy Jazz’s arrival sure shakes things up, doesn’t it?”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “Speaking of shaking this up... you takin’ her to Reed’s party on Friday?”

  Reed’s parents are going away for the weekend. He’s the only one of us who doesn’t have absentee parents, so having the house to himself is a rarity. We all decided he needed to throw a party to celebrate.

  “That’s the plan.”

  Bentley gets a shit-eating grin on his face. “What if I told you I beat you to it?”

  I narrow my eyes. “The fuck you say?”

  “Why you getting so angry, bro?” The asshole laughs. “You say you’re not into her. You told me you couldn’t care less if I fucked her. If either of those things were true, why do you care who she goes to the party with?”

  “I don’t.” I run my hands through my hair.

  “Uh huh,” he taunts. “Well, buddy, I’ll do you a solid and admit that I haven’t asked her... yet. But I do have every intention of making a move if you don’t. You’re not the only one she’s hot for and I plan on exploiting the shit out of that.”

  This fucker is looking to get a rise out of me, but I won’t let him.

  I relax my jaw. “Be my guest.”

  He cocks his head to the side. “Is that your final answer?”

  “Go for it,” I insist. “Jasmine Callahan means nothing to me.”

  Bentley laughs. “All right, man, if you say so. But remember this conversation when she’s in one of Reed’s guest rooms with me on Friday night.”

  Not if I have anything to say about it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  JAZZ

  “You’re going with me to Reed’s party on Friday night.”

  I glance over at the bossy ass who just sat next to me at lunch. “Nice greeting, jackass. How about next time you try, ‘Hi, Jazz. How’s your day going?’”

  Kingston’s jaw clenches. I totally don’t notice his eyes are more brown than green today. “Hi, Jazz. How’s your day going?”

  “See? That wasn’t too hard, was it?” I give him a condescending pat on the cheek, making the rest of our table laugh.

  “Watch it,” he warns.

  I lift my eyebrows in challenge. “Or what?”

  He gives me a wicked grin. “Or I won’t tell you about your surprise.”

  “What surprise?” Ainsley asks.

  Kingston points to his sister. “Stay out of it, Ainsley.”

  She gives him a sugary smile before turning to me. “Do you want me to stay out of it, Jazz?”

  I bite back a laugh. I love how much she enjoys fucking with her brother.

  “Nope.” I emphasize the word with a pop. “What surprise?”

  Kingston stares at my lips before moving back up to my eyes.

  “Go to Reed’s party with me and I’ll tell you.”

  Bentley, who’s sitting on the other side of me, leans into my ear and whispers, “Make him work for it, baby girl.”

  I sit back in my chair. “What makes you think I’d have the desire to go to any party after what happened during the last one I attended?”

  Kingston rolls his eyes. “Because this will be different.”

  “How so?”

  He holds up his index finger. “For one, you’ll be under our protection so no one will fuck with you.” He adds a second finger. “Two, it’s at Reed’s house, so we have complete control over the environment.” His ring finger joins in. “Three, it’d be a surefire way of getting back at Peyton and her groupies for bullying you.”

  Kingston looks so smug, I want to smack him.

  “For one, being under your supposed protection doesn’t stop you from screwing with me. I’m still convinced you had something to do with why I was so fucked up after only two drinks. Two, the location has zero influence over my decision because I don’t trust you. See reason number one. And three, you’ve bullied me, so wouldn’t refusing to go be getting back at you?” I tick off each reason mockingly.

  A muscle jumps in Kingston’s jaw. “You done?”

  “Are you?” I challenge.

  “Not even close.” Kingston turns to Ainsley. “You’re going, right?”

  “Yeah.” Ainsley looks at me. “You can ride with me if you want, Jazz. I swear I won’t take off like I did last time. And if you don’t want to drink, I won’t either.”

  “Fine,” I agree.

  Going to a party with Ainsley has to be better than sitting at Sperm Donor’s McMansion all night.

  “Then it’s settled. You’ll ride with Ainsley and later in the evening, you’ll be riding me.” Bentley pulls me into his side.

  I push him off. “You wish.”

  He winks. “Ain’t denying that.”

  I smile,
hating how much of a sucker I am for his charm. “Idiot.”

  “Ah, but you want me anyway,” Bentley teases.

  I smile wryly. “Nah. I’m not into bro dudes.”

  Bentley gasps dramatically. “You take that back! I am not a bro dude!”

  I shrug. “If the douchebag fits...”

  Bentley picks me up right out of my chair, setting me on his lap. “Just for that, you can sit on my lap for the rest of lunch.”

  “Put me down, you jerk!”

  I release an embarrassing squeal when he squeezes my leg right above the knee. I’m horribly ticklish there which Bentley quickly figures out. I laugh and squirm until I feel how I’m affecting him. The large thing poking me in the ass causes me to still immediately.

  Bentley lifts his hips, ever so slightly, pressing his erection into my butt even more. “Careful, Jazz,” he whispers into my ear. “Don’t start something you’re not willing to finish.”

  I swiftly scurry to my seat when he releases me and make the mistake of letting my eyes roam the rest of the dining room. Bentley and I definitely made a giant spectacle of ourselves. Ainsley and Reed are eyeing me with amusement, probably because my entire face is flushed. Kingston, however, couldn’t possibly look more hostile. Nor could Peyton and her squad.

  Great. Just great.

  OKAY, ONE THING I WILL admit, rich kids know how to throw a party. Reed’s house is easily ten thousand square feet, but the bottom level is packed with bodies. So much for controlling the environment—this place is a damn fire hazard. It’s also a den of iniquity. There’s a professional DJ, a bar supplying alcohol when not a single person here is over twenty-one, and multiple seating areas where couples are engaging in various levels of foreplay or using drugs.

  “This place is lit!” Ainsley shouts.

  She drags me through the open space, pointing out different areas, clearly knowing where she’s going. Quite a few girls stop us along the way, offering superficial conversation punctuated by air kisses. Every single one of them eyes me curiously but doesn’t say a word to me. I can tell Ainsley hates this crap, but she remains poised as if she’s had a lot of practice doing it.

  Finally, a genuine smile stretches across her face when she spots Reed sitting on a black leather couch in front of a huge TV, smoking a J. Bentley and Kingston are on gaming chairs next to the couch, their feet kicked up, playing Xbox.

  Reed’s entire demeanor changes when he sees Ainsley. He goes from looking impossibly bored to ecstatic, just like that.

  He gets off the couch and pulls Ainsley into a side hug. “Hey. When did you get here?”

  “A few minutes ago,” she says with hearts in her eyes.

  Damn, this girl’s got it bad. I was so happy to hear Reed is going to man up and talk to Kingston about dating Ainsley. Hell, he might’ve done it already if the hardness to Kingston’s jaw is any indication. He may not like it, but the fact that he’s not trying to interfere right now is a good sign.

  “Jazzy Jazz!” Bentley shouts. “Come sit on my lap and be my good luck charm. Davenport’s kicking my ass.”

  “No amount of luck will prevent me from kicking your ass,” Kingston taunts.

  Ainsley and Reed take a seat on the couch, so I decide to do the same. “No thanks. I’m fine right here.”

  “You’re no fun, girl.” Bentley’s lips form into a pout. “Where’s your drink? You need to loosen up.”

  I show him my water bottle. “Right here. No alcohol for this girl tonight.”

  Bentley’s jaw drops. “What?! No, that just won’t do.”

  “It’s true,” Ainsley says. “Neither one of us are drinking tonight.”

  Reed takes a hit from his joint and holds it out to her. “You want some?”

  Ainsley shrugs as she takes it from him. “Sure.” She wraps her lips around it and coughs after inhaling too much smoke. When I give her a look she says, “What?”

  I eye the joint in her hand. “Didn’t we just say we’re not getting fucked up?”

  “No, we said we weren’t drinking. Weed doesn’t get you fucked up like liquor does. And it’s totally natural.” She holds the J out to me. “You in?”

  Oh, why the hell not? She’s right—I’ve never been unaware of what I was doing while smoking weed. True, it could be laced but I know Reed would never do that to Ainsley, especially with Kingston right here. There’s no harm in sharing the same blunt.

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” Bentley throws the controller down and squeezes next to me on the couch.

  I pass Bentley the joint after taking a hit of my own.

  Kingston grabs some paper and a grinder off the side table and starts rolling his own. I snort, not surprised in the least that he’s not willing to share with us. I hold my breath when his tongue peeks out to lick the paper. He’s well versed in the art of rolling, even taking the time to use a thin skewer to create a passageway for the smoke to travel so it burns evenly. I’ve never been a heavy smoker, but my ex works at a dispensary. He has an obsession with rolling perfect blunts and felt it was necessary to pass on the knowledge.

  God, why does Kingston have to be so pretty to look at? He has that whole rich asshole thing down to a T, which doesn’t normally do it for me, but with him, it works. Tonight, he’s wearing dark jeans that are no doubt designer and a t-shirt that’s molded to his muscular chest so well, I’m sure it’s tailored to fit him perfectly. He must have had a haircut after school because the fade is cleaned up and the top is a bit shorter. He hasn’t said a word to me yet—he just watches me with those intense ever-changing eyes, like he’s waiting me out.

  After a few passes, I’m rocking a nice high, sinking back into the plush couch. Ainsley and Reed have moved to a back corner of the room, engaged in their own private conversation. I smile when her melodious laughter rings out and continues uncontrollably. Oh yeah, girlfriend is definitely a lightweight. Kingston is still brooding, staring me down from his chair. I refuse to acknowledge this little game of chicken we have going on, so I focus on chatting with Bentley instead.

  I’m so relaxed, I don’t even think to move Bentley’s hand when it lands on my thigh.

  “I like what you’ve got on here, Jazzy Jazz.” I shiver when his deep voice rumbles in my ear as his fingers begin to climb. “It’s understated, but sexy as fuck. You don’t even need to try and you have the attention of practically every guy in this house.”

  I’m wearing a black tank, black ripped skinny jeans, and matching Chucks. Silver bangles circle each of my wrists, but that’s the only accessory I have on. I didn’t even bother doing something special with my hair or makeup—I’m sporting a high ponytail with just a little eyeliner and pink lip gloss. I figured I wasn’t coming here to impress anyone. I’m here to support my friend and get out of that suffocating mansion.

  “Not every guy.” I snort. “Broody McGrumperson hasn’t said a word to me.”

  Bentley runs the bridge of his nose along the nape of my neck. “That doesn’t mean you don’t have his attention. I’d bet my Porsche he’s staring at us right now, looking a tad homicidal.”

  He’s speaking directly into my ear and the music’s turned up, so there’s no way Kingston heard him. I hate myself for needing to know, but I have to look. When my eyes find his, sure enough, Kingston’s doing exactly what Bentley had predicted.

  My eyes roll back when Bentley presses his lips against my skin. “Shit, that feels good.”

  I’m definitely aware of my actions, but Mary Jane always makes me horny because I’m hyperaware of every little touch. Damn it, why didn’t I think of that before I smoked?

  Bentley smiles against the crook of my neck before taking my flesh between his teeth and biting down gently. I’m fairly certain a moan just escaped my lips. The hand that was on my thigh is now pressed against my cheek, turning me inward.

  Our mouths are mere inches apart. Bentley searches my eyes and says, “I can make you feel even better if you’ll let me.”


  Lord help me, but I’m curious enough to see where he’s going with this. “How so?”

  “Dance with me.”

  I blink twice. “Huh?”

  I bite my lip when he smiles. The guy has a great smile. “I said, dance with me.”

  Bentley stands up and pulls on my hand until I’m following his lead into the main throng of people. As we get to an area where about a dozen sweaty bodies are grinding against each other, the DJ switches the song to Halsey’s “Gasoline”.

  Bentley’s hard body moves behind mine and starts swaying to the beat. I close my eyes, dancing in time with the haunting and sexy rhythm. Bentley’s hands grip my hips with bruising force while his lips repeatedly run the length of my neck. My body is warm and pliant against his. The erection at my back is persistent and its owner groans loudly when I push into it further, giving him the friction he’s so obviously seeking. Something niggles in the recesses of my brain, telling me this is a very bad idea, but another more rebellious part tells me to run with it.

  As the song ends, I open my eyes to find hazel ones locked onto mine. Alarms are blaring in my head, telling me to abort. Everything about Kingston is screaming malevolence right now. From his steely gaze to the hard set of his jaw. His rigid posture and clenching fists. If looks could kill, I’d be dead on the spot.

  Another song begins, but I couldn’t tell you what it is because I’m too busy freaking out.

  Bentley leans into my ear, breaking the spell. “Kingston looks like he’s about to devour you whole.”

  In my opinion, he looks more like he’s about to murder me whole, although he’s definitely giving off a predator vibe.

  “Uh...”

  Kingston’s eyes briefly flicker over my shoulder before meeting my gaze and mouthing, Run.

  I don’t hesitate for even a second. I take off at full speed, slamming into grumbling bodies in my mission to flee. I dart down a hallway but quickly realize what a dumb move that was, so I turn around to head in the other direction. I stop dead in my tracks when I see the imposing man standing no more than ten feet away, coming closer with each long stride. Kingston’s nostrils flare as his chest rises and falls rapidly. I counter each one of his steps with a backward retreat. I don’t dare take my eyes off him, but I spy an open doorway in my peripheral, debating whether or not I’d have time to lock myself in there before Kingston catches up with me. I decide it’s worth a shot since I’m running out of hallway.