My heavy eyelashes flutter open, my hands resting beside me on the counter. Cole’s nostrils flare as his greedy stare takes me in. The sheer material of my bralette does nothing to hide the contents underneath, leaving my hardening nipples on full display for him.
I draw in a quick breath when he cups my breasts, my head falling back as his thumbs rub over my nipples. His mouth finds its way back to my neck, making a snack out of it while I grind against him. It doesn’t take long for me to get to the edge. Every cell in my body is on the verge of exploding by the time his breath tickles my ear.
“You’re right, I can’t make you keep that promise.” The humor behind his whispered words snaps me back from the brink, my legs already loosening their hold on him as he speaks again. “Good thing your body is doing it for me.”
My mouth falls open as he backs away wearing a victorious grin. I’m too shocked and confused to speak, my insides quivering with rage and embarrassment. Everything that happened between us just now had been nothing more than a game to him. A way for him to prove a point and put me in my place.
His laughter grates on my skin like nails on a chalkboard as he walks away, tossing Cory’s shirt in the trash as he goes. “Sorry, Princess. We’ll have to finish this later,” he calls over his shoulder as he reaches the back door. “Some of us have responsibilities. We don’t get to lie around our castle all day with a silver spoon hanging from our mouth.”
The door slams with his exit, and I scream like a child throwing a tantrum. My wobbly legs collapse when I slide off the counter, sending me to the floor as tears roll down my cheeks. I’m not going to survive this.
Chapter Four
Present
COLE
The Rhodes estate looks even more like a castle at night, the entire house lit in a warm amber glow. It’s been so long since I’ve seen it this way, but there’s an odd sense of belonging that settles over me. That feeling quickly sours in the pit of my stomach as I park my car in the driveway outside their six-car garage. The truth is, this was never where I belonged.
I pull my vibrating phone from my pocket and climb out of the Honda, my lanky frame making it a struggle. My mother’s face lights up the screen on the iPhone, and a calmness washes over me as I slide my thumb across it to answer. “Hey, Momma.”
“Hi, sweet boy.”
I silently chuckle, shaking my head at the term of endearment. I’m probably the only seventeen-year-old whose mother still addresses him like he’s five. It definitely doesn’t match the bad boy image I portray.
“It’s so good to hear your voice,” she says. “Did you make it home from work all right?”
I close the door and lean against the car, my eyes roaming over the vast expanse of the mansion before me. It’s strange to think I once considered this my home. Before the Rhodes family offered my mother a job and a place to live, we were bouncing from one motel to another. On the particularly bad weeks, when my mother was between jobs, we even slept in our car.
My father’s sudden death left her in a bad place, unable to pay the bills with her income alone. He was the breadwinner. A rising country star who’d just been signed by a major record label. If his life hadn’t been taken from him, things would’ve been very different for us. We might’ve even had a place like this of our own one day. But fate had other plans for the Masterson family.
Mr. Rhodes was my dad’s entertainment lawyer. When he discovered how bad things had gotten for my mother, he offered up his home. Our lives went from struggling to scrap up enough money for one decent meal a day—not even knowing where we were going to lay our heads at night—to living in a fairytale. Only we weren’t the main characters in this storybook.
Now, I’m following in my mother’s footsteps—waiting on the rich and thanking them for any loose change they throw my way. I consider myself lucky, though. Most kids my age with my background end up slinging burgers for minimum wage. Thanks to my best friend and her father, I get to work in a posh hotel downtown, making decent money by catering to the wealthy guests.
“This place is far from home. But yes, I made it back safely from Nashville. Standing in the Rhodes’ driveway as we speak,” I tell her.
Deciding to come back here might not have been the best idea. It’s rousing some ugly demons. With my mother working out of state with Arwen’s dad all summer, it wasn’t like I had a lot of options. But staying here was my brilliant idea. One fueled by rage and driven by revenge. At the wheel, Gwendolyn Grace Rhodes.
The princess of this palace owned my heart until she saw fit to shatter it into tiny little pieces. I thought she was done hurting me after that. But it turns out she wasn’t done screwing with my head.
“You know if you’re uncomfortable there, you can still go stay with your aunt. She would love to see you. Patrick said you’d still have a job if and when you return.”
Patrick Sullyvan, the owner of Brighton Hotel, gave my mother a job as his assistant two years ago. He wasn’t even looking for one at the time, just simply did it at his daughter’s behest. The man even helped us get set up in a home of our own. Something we hadn’t had since I was five. When I turned sixteen, he offered me a job too. But he did it for my mom. She didn’t want me working at some fast food restaurant or gas station.
It was fairly obvious by then that Patrick had fallen for her, though my mother and Arwen both seemed oblivious to it. This is the first time he’s taken her with him out of town, and I can’t help wondering if something has shifted between them. This trip may be about more than business.
“I appreciate that, but I’m perfectly fine staying here,” I say. “Nina and Mark have been very welcoming.”
They’ve always been kind to me. I was the walking talking charity case that made them feel better about themselves. They loved to buy me expensive gifts my mother couldn’t afford. Which she would politely refuse on my behalf or put away until I earned it. The school supplies and new wardrobe each year were things she didn’t have the luxury to decline, though.
“And Gwen? How did she react to your arrival?” my mom inquires.
I lift my gaze to Gwen’s bedroom, the dark window causing my lips to curl. She’s either asleep or not home. Either option gives me an opportunity to play. “Oh, she was thrilled to see me,” I snicker.
There was genuine fear in her dark hazel eyes once she saw me in her bed last night. Exactly as I expected. What I hadn’t anticipated was the way her body would react to my presence. The red blotches that littered her pale skin were a dead giveaway of the lustful thoughts swirling in her head.
It made my own desires much harder to fight. Especially when she was wearing nothing more than a towel, the tremendous curves of her body barely hidden beneath it. The same ones I saw in their full glory as she’d stripped on her way to the shower.
“I know that tone. Don’t you go stirring up trouble, son,” my mother scolds.
She knows me well, but the damage is already done.
I managed to get myself into a shit storm of trouble this morning. After Gwen came down for breakfast wearing some jock’s shirt while her eyes devoured me, I couldn’t resist toying with her. Her skin lit up like a Christmas tree when my hand landed on her thigh, and it should’ve ended there. My point had been made, my theory proved.
But she started running her sweet mouth, and fury clouded my judgment. All bets were off the second I got too close to her. Then she kissed me, and I almost let myself get lost in her. It felt so good—so right, having her in my arms again—I nearly forgot everything she’d done.
“Stop worrying. Everything is fine,” I say, trying to reassure myself as much as I am her.
“This could be a chance for the two of you to mend whatever was broken.”
I let out a defeated breath, rubbing at the building tension in my shoulders. “That’s highly unlikely.”
My mom doesn’t have a clue about all the shit that went down with Gwen two years ago. She would’ve killed me if she found out I wa
s hooking up with the Rhodes’ little princess, jeopardizing her job and the roof over our heads. I’m pretty sure my mom believes our rift is about unrequited love. Which isn’t entirely inaccurate. Everyone could see how much I cared about Gwen, and it was even harder to hide the heartache she caused me.
“You guys were so close. It’s not too late to fix this,” my mom continues.
That’s where she’s wrong. Gwen’s latest offense destroyed any hope for reconciliation between us. I’m only here to even the score.
She played me for a fool, but I’ll have the last laugh.
This morning may have ended in a victory for me, but I can’t lose control like that again. If I let her get under my skin, it’ll only be a matter of time before she finds her way into my heart. That didn’t work out so well for me the first time.
“Momma…I love you and miss you, but I’m tired. The hotel was packed, and traffic was a nightmare.”
“All right, messaged received.” She lets out a relenting sigh. This isn’t the first time I’ve shut down the topic of Gwen, and it won’t be the last. “Go get some sleep and I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I love you, sweet boy.”
“Love you too.”
The house is eerily quiet as I make my way inside and up the stairs. It’s filled with an emptiness I never felt when we lived here. The vast spaces, with their white walls and high ceilings, are cold and uninviting now. My mother supplied this house with the love it needed to be a home. There’s no warmth left without her.
Nina and Mark Rhodes aren’t bad people, they’re just uniquely wired. Wealthy people tend to prioritize things very differently than the poor. Their daughter was spoiled with material possessions but never had enough of the things she needed and wanted most. Like their love and attention.
I keep my footsteps light, approaching Gwen’s room as quietly as possible. Her door is closed, and there’s no light peeking out underneath it. The knob doesn’t budge, but the audible gasp that comes from the other side is hard to miss.
My knuckles rap on the wood, drumming out a playful beat. “You can’t hide from me anymore,” I taunt, laughing as she quietly curses me. “Sweet dreams, Princess.”
The grin is still on my face as I step into the guest room right down the hall. When I arrived yesterday, Nina and Mark let me choose my room. The one next to Gwen was the most obvious choice.
But it’s strange staying on the second floor in this huge ass room. My mother and I lived in the two-bedroom apartment suite in the lower level at the back of the house. This guest bedroom is nearly as big as the space we shared. It has its own bathroom, a large king-size bed, and a freaking gas fireplace.
As a kid, this place felt magical. I dreamed of having my own someday. But now, it seems ludicrous for anyone to live such a lavish lifestyle. No one needs this much space.
I strip off my work uniform and pull on a pair of sweats before crawling under the crisp white linens on the bed. The entire room is sprinkled with various shades of white and beige, much like the rest of the house. Rich people must have something against color.
Despite the exhaustion from my ten-hour shift, I can’t seem to relax enough to let sleep take hold. My mind won’t stop racing with thoughts of the deceitful beauty down the hall and the hurtful trick she played on me.
Two months ago, I got a DM on Instagram. Nothing crazy, just a simple hello. But the account didn’t have any personal pictures. It was full of aesthetics: the sun setting over the ocean, flowers in a field, dust floating in filtered sunlight. The username and bio are what piqued my interest enough to respond. Her profile had me hooked from the start.
@thephantomgirl
Phantom Girl
Just an invisible girl, finding beauty in the world you take for granted.
We spent weeks exchanging messages, talking about everything and nothing at all. Things seemed to click with us immediately. It was like talking to an old friend instead of a complete stranger. That alone should’ve been a giant red flag. She wouldn’t reveal her real name or anything about herself, refusing to FaceTime or even talk on the phone.
If I’d really wanted to find out who she was, it would’ve been easy to. It doesn’t take much hacker skill to do something as simple as getting a person’s IP address. But I kind of liked not knowing who she was at first. There was no pressure, no expectation.
Arwen and Thatcher both told me I was being an idiot and pleaded with me to find out Phantom Girl’s identity. We’ve made a lot of enemies in this town, so they were worried someone was screwing with me. But I didn’t want to believe that was true. It’d been a while since I felt a connection with someone, and I didn’t want to let it go.
When she finally admitted to living in Westbrook and going to WHS, it was time to stop burying my head in the sand. Tracking her phone was easy. Child’s play. She didn’t even question the link I sent before clicking on it, completely clueless it would lead me right to her.
Confronting Gwen would’ve been too simple. She needed to learn a lesson.
I stewed for weeks before the opportunity to stay here fell right into my lap. The plan was to take my time with her, to spend the entire summer slowly driving her mad. But we might need to speed this along, and I know exactly what to do.
I grab my phone off the nightstand and open Instagram, my stomach churning with resentment as I scroll through our messages. This girl seemed so innocent and sweet, nothing like the malicious brat behind it all.
She should’ve known better. There was never a chance she’d beat me at this game.
10:45 PM
Hey, stranger.
Adrenaline pumps through my veins as my message goes through. Seconds later, the little seen pops up underneath it. Those three little dots flash on the screen before disappearing again, and I chuckle. She isn’t sure if she should take the bait, but she wants to.
This is going to get very interesting.
Chapter Five
6 years old
GWEN
Lydia hums in the kitchen while she cooks, and I smile watching her. It smells amazing. She said she’s making Cole’s favorite dish tonight. Something called a casserole. I’ve never heard of that before. My momma doesn’t cook. Someone else always makes our food. She’s a dancer, not a real momma like Lydia.
Cole walks into the room, and it feels like butterflies are flying around in my tummy. He’s the cutest boy I’ve ever seen.
“What’s the princess doing here?” he asks his mom, a frown on his face as he looks me over.
The butterflies in my belly stop fluttering their wings, and I fight the urge to stick my tongue out at him. Technically this is still my house. They moved into our guest suite a month ago, but he acts like I’m the one who doesn’t belong here.
The suite is located on the bottom floor of the house. It’s basically a small apartment with a tiny kitchen, living area, and two bedrooms. One for Lydia and one for Cole.
He told me this is the first time they’ve had separate rooms since his father died.
That just breaks my heart. I can’t imagine losing my daddy. When I tried to tell Cole how sorry I was before giving him a hug, he got angry and didn’t talk to me for days.
Boys are so weird.
Now, Lydia glares at her son over her shoulder. “Be nice,” she tells him, and I smirk as she turns back around. “Gwen’s parents have an event downtown and are going to be staying overnight. I thought it would be nice for her to stay with us here tonight.”
Cole groans, his eyes rounding. “Stay the night? With us?”
Lydia giggles. “Yes, like a slumber party. Gwen brought her sleeping bag. We’re going to watch movies and make cookies. It’ll be fun.”
“Slumber parties are for girls,” he whines, crossing his arms.
“I’m making chicken noodle crunch for dinner,” Lydia croons.
“And I’ll let you pick the movie,” I add.
He might not be very nice to me sometimes, but I don’t want him hiding in h
is room all night. I want him to be my friend. Mom and dad are busy with work all the time. It’s lonely never having anyone to hang out with. My other nannies weren’t nice like Lydia, and I’ve never had a kid to play with before.
When Lydia asked if I wanted to stay in here with them tonight, I was so excited. There aren’t a lot of kids who like me at school. No one has ever invited me to a sleepover before.
“Fine,” he relents. “But y’all aren’t painting my nails or anything crazy.”
Something wakes me in the middle of the night, and it takes me a minute to remember where I am. It’s chilly, and the sleeping bag wrapped around me on the couch in the living room of the guest suite isn’t nearly warm enough. That must be what woke me up.
The dark silence in the unfamiliar room causes my heart to beat faster. I squeeze my eyes shut again as they start playing tricks on me, turning every shadow into a monster. It was a bad idea letting Cole pick out the movie. Of course he picked out something scary. Coraline is going to give me nightmares for months.
My hands are shaky as I slide out of my sleeping bag. Once it’s off, I pry my eyes open. Cole’s bedroom door is only a few steps away. Maybe I can sneak in there without him noticing.
I bounce off the couch and practically run to his door, opening it slowly in hopes of not waking him.
It doesn’t work.
Cole shoots up as soon as I step inside, rubbing at his eyes. “Princess? What are you doing?”
“I…I’m scared,” I admit.
He sighs, plopping back down on his pillow. “Come on, then.”
The Princess and The Jester: A High School Bully Romance (Westbrook Three Book 3) Page 3