Thatcher is a bit of a stick in the mud, but he’s all right. He just needs to have a little fun is all, to stop worrying about following the rules and stand up to the kids that constantly mess with him. His older sister isn’t much help. She’s usually the one who starts it. From what he’s told me about his home life, his parents aren’t any better. I get the feeling not all of those bruises on his body are from the bullies at school.
Gwen comes shuffling into the kitchen as soon as I start putting the first batch of toast on a plate for her. Her hair is a mess, her face puffy, the rims of her eyes red from crying. And she’s still the prettiest girl in Westbrook.
“Good morning, Princess.”
Her forehead creases as she studies me; I’m holding a spatula in one hand and a plate in the other. “Did you cook breakfast?” she asks.
“Yep,” I chirp, offering her the plate.
“By yourself?” She looks over at my mom who’s washing the dishes. “Is this safe to eat?”
My mom chuckles as I scoff in offense. “I’m an excellent cook, thank you very much.”
“I guess we’ll find out,” she teases, taking the plate over to the kitchen table.
My attempt to scowl at her is ruined by the smile that breaks out across my face. I’m just happy she’s out of her room and joking with me again.
“Are my parents here?” Gwen’s defeated tone suggests she already knows the answer.
“No, sweetheart,” my mom answers, wiping her hands dry. “They headed out early this morning and aren’t expected back until this evening.”
It isn’t hard to miss the disappointment on Gwen’s face as she nods. Her parents aren’t around much. They always shower her with gifts, but really, she just wants their time.
“Do we have—”
Before she can finish her question, I bring over the syrup. “You can’t have French toast without syrup.”
Gwen smiles at me, her eyes lingering on my face long enough to heat it as I pour some syrup onto her plate. “Thank you.”
“Well, go on,” I urge her. “Take a bite and tell me it’s not the best French toast you’ve ever tasted.”
Gwen rolls her eyes, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile. “All right, I’m going in.”
She cuts off a piece with a fork and pops it in her mouth, her cheeks going pink as I watch her chew. When a satisfied hum passes through her lips, I stand a little taller.
“Okay,” she nods, pointing to the plate of food with her fork, “you were right. This is the best French toast I’ve ever had.”
“Exactly.” I smirk, ruffling her messy hair before returning to the stove.
“Why don’t you join her,” Momma says, scooping another batch of toast onto a plate for me. “I’ll get me some in a minute. You two go on and eat.”
I take the plate, and my mom places a kiss on my cheek. Gwen continues shoveling her food as I take the seat next to her.
“What are you doing today?” Gwen asks me, question garbled from her full mouth.
I chuckle. “Thatcher said something about hanging out today, but I’m sure it’s cool if you come too.”
Her shoulders slump as she shakes her head. “No, that’s okay. I think I’ve got some homework to do.”
That’s a lie. Gwen doesn’t like Thatcher very much. I’m pretty sure she’s jealous of him. It’s been the two of us for years now. She’s not used to sharing me. If the tables were turned, I likely wouldn’t feel much different.
We both need to make more friends, though. Normally I’d refuse to cancel my plans with Thatcher and hope she’d change her mind. But there’s no way I’m leaving her alone all day when she’s so upset.
I sigh. “Actually, I think I’d rather hang out with you today.”
Her entire face lights up. “Really?”
“Unless you have too much homework,” I tease.
She shakes her head. “No, no. It can wait. What do you want to do?”
“I could be persuaded to take a trip to the mall,” Momma chimes in.
My eyebrows lift in question. “What do you think?”
“Yeah, that sounds like fun,” Gwen agrees.
“Great. I’ll go get ready and we can head out around ten.” Momma walks over, patting me on the shoulder and giving me a kiss on the head before she leaves the kitchen.
My mom knows exactly what I did and why. The same reason she volunteered to take us to the mall when she hates going. Especially on a Saturday.
There isn’t anything either of us wouldn’t do for Gwen.
Chapter Fourteen
Present
GWEN
Mia’s stare feels warmer than the summer sun beating down on me. It didn’t surprise me that Cole was the first thing she asked me about when I arrived. She did the same thing every other time she called or texted me all week. I’ve yet to answer a single one of her prying questions. Partially because I’m not even sure what to tell her. Everything is so screwed up.
I turn my head, sliding my sunglasses down my nose and glaring at her. “What?”
“Are we really doing this? You’re just going to sit there sunbathing by my pool, refusing to give me an update on the Cole situation?”
Groaning, I push my glasses back in place and return my attention to the clear sky above me. “Is it so wrong to want to go one day without Cole Masterson consuming my every thought?”
“Come on, I’ve been waiting for this day,” she whines. “My little Gwendolyn is finally crazy about a boy, and I want to hear all about it. Lord knows you’ve listened to me talk about guys enough times. Besides, it doesn’t sound like refusing to talk about him is helping with your cause, love.”
She’s right. He’s still at the forefront of my thoughts.
I sigh. “There isn’t much to say. He hasn’t spoken to me all week.”
That isn’t a total lie, but it isn’t exactly the truth either. Cole hasn’t said a word to me, but he still sends Phantom Girl flirty messages every day. After the odd exchange we had while he was at work Monday, I was a little surprised he didn’t cut her off too.
“Like, he’s giving you the cold shoulder?” Mia asks.
“No. Like, I haven’t even seen him.”
“I know you live in a mansion, but how is that possible? He’s sleeping in the room right next door to yours.”
I shrug. “I think he’s been going out of his way to avoid me.”
“Why would he do that?
“No clue,” I lie.
There are a number of reasons he might want to avoid running into me. I imagine the list looks similar to the one that’s kept me from seeking him out. The kissing, touching, fighting, crying, and holding. It was overwhelming.
“I don’t buy it. The last time I was there, the guy cooked for you then looked at you like he wanted to make you his breakfast. And you told me yourself the two of you went at it in the kitchen the day before. There’s no way all of that changed by the time I dropped you back off on Sunday. So, what really happened?”
“Okay, fine,” I relent with a sigh. “When I got home, Cory’s shirt was in shreds on my bed.”
“Oh my fucking god! He ripped up Cory’s shirt? Damn. He went all possessive caveman on you. Why does that sound so hot to me?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Because you have some deep-seated issues when it comes to men.”
She feigns being hurt, her mouth falling open as she places a hand over her heart. “That’s so hateful, but true.” She smirks, gesturing with a wave of her hand for me to continue. “So, what did you do?”
“I went to his room to confront him, and things got a little heated.”
She gasps, reaching over to swat my arm. “You guys screwed, and you didn’t tell me?”
My brow bunches as I rub the sting from my arm. “Jesus, Mia. No, we didn’t have sex.”
She quirks an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Why do I feel like there should be a but at the end of that sentence?”
I c
over my cheeks as they warm with embarrassment, grimacing as I reply. “There may have been a little bit of touching and kissing.”
“Please tell me the bastard didn’t leave you hanging again.”
And I officially want to crawl into a hole. “Uh, no. He completed his…task. But then I freaked, and he acted like an asshole. I cried, he screamed. The whole thing was…”
“Intense,” she breathes.
“Exactly. The craziest part is he came into my room afterward and held me. I’m pretty sure he slept in my bed all night.”
I wonder if that’s what freaked him out the most. It’s pretty clear he still doesn’t trust me. Maybe he’s worried about getting too close to me—that I’ll only hurt him again.
“That’s so sweet. And you haven’t seen or talked to him since?”
I shake my head. “Nope. He’s completely ghosted me.”
He’s been gone by the time I come down in the mornings and doesn’t come back home until after I go to sleep. I have no clue what he’s doing or where he’s going. There’s no way he’s working that many hours at the hotel. I’ve thought about messaging him a few times to see what he’s doing but worried I wouldn’t like his answer.
“So, do something to get his attention.” She makes it sound so easy.
Mia has a freaking master’s degree in gaining interest from the male population. But I’ve spent a good portion of my life trying to avoid being noticed.
“Yeah, sure. It’s not that simple. He spent two years acting like I didn’t exist.”
“The keyword there is acting. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Like you’re not only a part of his world, you’re the center of his entire damn universe.”
Her words cause an ache in my chest, my face tingling as I fight back tears. “I believed that to be true once. Before we were destroyed.”
The person responsible for ripping us apart only set out to get revenge on Cole. They wanted to hurt him, and used me to do it. But their plan wrecked us both. The pain they caused me was merely a bonus, a two-for-one deal.
Mia sighs, studying me with pitying eyes. “You kind of glossed over the whole breakup situation the other day. Why did you end things with Cole back then? It’s obvious you never stopped loving him.”
“It’s complicated. I was worried my parents would find out and fire his mom. And all the Westbrook Three crap was just starting up. It was too much.”
That’s completely true. We hid our relationship from our parents and everyone at school. A situation that only got more complex once the three of them went on their justice crusade. It’s just…not the whole truth. I can’t risk telling her about the threats and blackmail. If that information gets back to Cole, this entire thing could blow up.
“Well, his mother doesn’t work for your parents anymore. As for the Westbrook Three stuff, that goes in the positive column for me. The fact that he’s a total badass is sexy as hell.”
“True, but there’s also a lot of baggage that comes with it.”
Cole’s decision to stand up to the bullies at Westbrook was the very reason I’d been forced to let him go. I often wonder if knowing that would change anything for him. If he’d want to go back and do things differently. I’m not entirely sure I’d want him to.
The things they did might not be totally moral, but there’s no denying the positive impact the Westbrook Three have had on the dynamics at our school.
“We all have baggage, Gwendolyn. Besides, we’ve only got one more year of high school and then none of that shit will matter.”
She has a point there. One more year and we’ll be free of this place and all the fucked-up people in it. We’ll finally have a chance to put all this behind us. To move on and start the next phase of our lives.
“What would you do if you were me?” I ask.
She leans closer, her eyebrows lifted as she holds her stare on me. “I would get my man. It’s not like you have to make up some excuse to contact him or for being at the same place at the same time. He’s right down the hall. Which gives you a serious advantage.”
“What do you want me to do?” I mock. “Listen for him to come home so we can run into each other in the hallway?”
“Uh, no. That shit is lame.” She pauses, her lips puckering as she thinks. Then she smirks. “Wait for him in his bedroom. Put on something skimpy. Or hell, wait in his bed naked. He won’t be able to resist you.”
My heart races at the thought, my body heating. It’s a very bold move. I’m not sure I have the confidence to pull something like that off. “What if he rejects me?”
She sputters her lips. “Trust me, Gwendolyn, there’s no chance of that.”
Chapter Fifteen
Present
COLE
Violet sits quietly in the passenger seat, her eyes focused on the glow of the Nashville skyline. It was a long night for both of us at Brighton. The wedding reception in the big ballroom was very demanding. And full of entitlement. More than once I was tempted to put those people in their place. One guy almost earned himself a shiny new black eye for getting out of line with Saint. If she hadn’t calmed me down, I might’ve lost my job.
“You okay over there?” I ask her.
She pulls her attention from the window to give me a halfhearted smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. But we probably shouldn’t tell Arwen about that asshole with the wedding party.”
Arwen will kick my ass if she finds out I’m keeping shit from her, but she was already worried about Violet working at the hotel. I make sure my weekend shifts line up with hers and insist she ride with me to and from. But even with me there to watch out for her, she’ll still run into creeps like that douchebag groomsman.
I chuckle and nod in agreement. “No argument from me on that one.”
Violet’s gaze wanders back to the flickering lights passing by, and I get the feeling her solemn mood has something to do with Thatcher.
Arwen told me she sent Thatcher a picture of Violet with her letter last week. She said he needed a good kick in the ass. My feisty best friend is the only one who’s written him since he’s been away. Mostly to punish him.
“Did you hear from Thatch?” I ask.
Violet’s eyes slide to me then fall to her lap. “He sent me another letter.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
She shrugs a shoulder. “No. I don’t know. I didn’t read it. I’m just so angry with him. He lied to me. But worse than that, he didn’t trust me with the truth. He was all you and me, forever. And the whole time he was keeping parts of himself from me.”
Her tone is laced with hurt, and my hands tighten on the wheel. I love Thatcher like a brother, and I know he had his reasons for lying to Saint. The guy has been through some fucked-up shit. He never had anyone give a damn about him other than me and Arwen until Saint came along. Her love changed him for the better, but he couldn’t seem to shake his demons.
“Look, I can’t and won’t defend Thatch’s choices. He acted like an idiot. But I know he loves you.”
She sniffs, swiping at her cheek. “He never said he loved me.”
Damn it, Thatch.
“That doesn’t mean—”
“No,” she snaps. “You don’t keep secrets from the people you love.”
I sigh, rubbing at the tension in my shoulders. There’s no disputing that fact. We’re in total agreement there. It’s how I’m certain trusting Gwen is a bad idea.
She clears her throat, plastering a fake smile on her face when my eyes shift briefly from the road to her. “Let’s change the subject. How are things going at Gwen’s? Heather mentioned you’ve been at the hotel a lot this week. Is that because you don’t want to be at Gwen’s house?”
Heather Taylor is an evening desk clerk I made the mistake of almost hooking up with once. A year ago. And she still talks about me like we’re dating. The nosy little psycho needs to get over it already.
“Nope,” I lie. “Everything’s fine at Gwen’s. I’ve just been spending s
ome time in the kitchen with Chef Lucas, trying to learn as much as I can.”
That part is at least half-true. In my efforts to steer clear of Gwen, I go in before my shift and stay long after it’s over. I’m being a coward. Plain and simple. Too afraid my resolve will crumble the second I lay eyes on her.
She’s hiding shit from me, and I need to find a way to crack her before she breaks me. I sent PG something this week that allowed me to take a peek into her phone. There was nothing out of the ordinary. No smoking gun. Mostly just relentless texts from Mia asking about me. It seems Gwen finally told her about our past, but she hasn’t mentioned anything about last Sunday.
I’m getting really sick of feeling like her dirty little secret.
“Right, I think Arwen mentioned something about that,” Violet says.
“You mean she was making fun of me?”
“Basically.” Violet giggles, the sound like music to my ears. “Did you know Arwen and Aidan are being all friendly with each other now?”
“Friendly how?” I ask, playing dumb.
Violet doesn’t know anything about my theory that Arwen and Aidan are secretly hooking up. There’s no way I’m touching that one. Even if I’m not sure why Arwen doesn’t want anyone to know. I certainly don’t care if she’s screwing the golden boy, and Saint would probably be excited for Arwen. She’s always liked Aidan. Even went on a date with him once. She only agreed to go with him because she wanted to see Thatcher, though. Violet and Thatcher ended up in a back room making out while Aidan chatted it up with his teammates. I might’ve felt bad for the guy if he hadn’t gone after Thatcher’s girl in the first place.
“I don’t know…they’ve been, like, cordial,” she answers. “It’s freaky. We ran into him the other day at Sal’s Diner, and I think she might’ve even smiled at him.”
I bark out a laugh. “Arwen being polite and smiling. That’s definitely some bizarre shit.”
The Princess and The Jester: A High School Bully Romance (Westbrook Three Book 3) Page 8