Cole and Arwen are both thrilled for their parents. They’ve always acted like siblings anyway and love the idea of making it official. When Patrick asked them for permission to ask Lydia to marry him, they gave a resounding yes. Two fractured families will soon become one whole.
We each take a seat in one of the rocking chairs on the covered porch, the fans above creating a wonderful breeze that combats the late summer heat.
“So, how are you, dear?” Lydia’s stare seems probing as she awaits my answer, and my pulse quickens.
She could always tell when something was bothering me. Every day she would ask me how my day went at school, and every day my answer was the same: fine. No matter how bad the bullying had been that day. On the particularly bad days, Lydia would get this knowing look in her eyes. Instead of forcing me to tell her what happened, she would hug me and tell me one thing she loved about me.
“You know what I love about you, Gwendolyn Rhodes? I love that you eat the edges of your sandwiches first.”
“You know what I love about you, Gwendolyn Rhodes? I love the way you scrunch your cute little nose when you’re concentrating.”
It was always something completely ridiculous and uniquely me. She made me feel better and brought a smile to my face every single time. But the thing bothering me now is a little deeper than a few kids picking on me at school.
“I’m good,” I chirp. My forced perky tone only makes it more obvious that I’m hiding something.
Shit. There it is, that knowing glare.
“Cole’s certainly happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. He’s been crazy about you since the moment he laid eyes on you. The boy would’ve protected you to the ends of the earth. Still would.”
“I feel the same way about him,” I reply, emotion causing my voice to waver.
“Oh, honey. I wish you would tell me what’s eating away at you. You can tell me anything,” she reassures me, reaching over to pat me on the arm.
My eyes fall to her hand, my teeth digging into my bottom lip. As much as I want to free myself of this, it isn’t something you can easily blurt out. Lydia has gone all these years hiding it from Cole. I can’t imagine this will be a comfortable topic for her.
“I’ve been keeping something from Cole, and it’s killing me, but…” I begin, lifting my gaze to hers, “the thing is, it’s not my secret to tell. I found something out about his past. The truth about his father.”
Lydia visibly stiffens, her features freezing with shock. “I see,” she says on an exhale. When she finally blinks, a tear rolls down her cheek, but she quickly swipes it away. “How long have you known?”
“Two years.” My answer is barely more than a whisper, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak.
She takes a deep breath, her hand landing on her stomach. “You poor thing.” Her eyes go vacant as she looks away, staring off into the distance before continuing. “Not even the media knew the details surrounding Nicolas’s murder. How did—”
“A boy from school who hates Cole told me. His father is a lawyer. I guess he heard about the case.”
Her hands grip the arms of the chair. “Why did he come to you with this information instead of Cole?”
“To punish him and keep us apart.”
She sighs and shakes her head. “All I wanted was to keep that man from hurting my son, but he still managed to find a way. My worst mistake gave me my greatest gift. I’m his mother. It’s my job to protect him from the ugliness in the world. Lord knows I’ve failed him enough in that department. He’s had to worry about and deal with things no little boy should. This is the one thing I’ve kept him shielded from.”
She dabs the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand before turning to meet my gaze again. “This never should’ve been your burden to bear. I’m so sorry it was ever placed on your shoulders. And it may be terribly selfish of me to say, but I’m so grateful you’ve held on to it. My son is lucky to have someone who loves him enough to sacrifice her own happiness for his.”
Her words instantly lift some of the pressure on my chest. I’ve been questioning my decision not to tell Cole, wondering if it was selfish. It’s nice to hear someone tell me I made the right choice.
“He would do the same for me,” I offer.
“That he would.” She nods. “Do you think this boy is planning to tell him?”
This question plagues my thoughts daily. It’s like I’m holding my breath, waiting for Shane to take everything away from me again. “I can’t be sure, but it’s been weeks. Neither of us have heard a word from him.”
“Good. Now, you listen to me.” She takes my hand, squeezing it as her sad eyes lock onto mine. “This is not your baggage, and I don’t want you letting it weigh you down. There’s only one person Cole should hear this from, and I’m not about to spoil his happiness. That man has taken enough from us. Promise me you’ll let it go. For both of you. Don’t let anything come between you two again.”
It feels like I’ve been absolved from the guilt I’ve been dragging around since Shane dumped this shit on me. Like Cole and I are truly getting a fresh start now, without the ghost of the past haunting us.
Tears spring to my eyes as I nod. “I promise.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Present
COLE
The crowd cheers as Arwen is crowned homecoming queen on the field with Aidan at her side, while Thatcher and I laugh. It might be the most entertaining thing either of us have ever seen. We never thought we’d see the day Arwen would attend homecoming, let alone be part of the fucking homecoming court.
After nearly blowing things with Aidan, Arwen decided to win him back with a grand gesture in front of the entire school. That little stunt is what got her nominated and ultimately crowned. It’s also how we all got roped into participating in homecoming weekend to begin with. There was no way we were going to miss this moment.
Badass, tough as nails Arwen Sullyvan is homecoming queen. Priceless.
My mother is down on the field with Patrick, cheering for Arwen louder than anyone else here. The announcement of their relationship didn’t come as a surprise to me, but I worried how Arwen would take the news. She’s never quite gotten over the death of her mother. I suppose that’s something we’ve always had in common: mourning a parent.
To my surprise, she was extremely happy about the news. She said she always hoped her father would find love and happiness again, and the fact that she already loved my mom made it that much better.
The bleachers grow quiet once everyone starts to clear the field. Arwen looks up from the sidelines, pinning us down with her glare. She’s sure to give us hell later for laughing.
“I think her royal highness is pissed at us,” I joke with Thatcher. “We better be careful. That crown has some pointy edges. She might try to use it as a weapon.”
“Be nice,” Gwen scolds, elbowing me in the side.
Gwen taking up for Arwen might be even more bizarre than the scene playing out in front of me. The two of them started out merely playing nice for mine and Aidan’s benefit, but they’ve actually become pretty good friends.
My arm tightens around her shoulders as I lean down to kiss her on the head. “Come on. You’ve got to admit it’s a little funny.”
Her lips twist with the shake of her head. “I think it’s sweet she’s trying so hard to be part of Aidan’s world.”
“Exactly,” Thatcher chimes in. “Arwen doesn’t do sweet.”
“That’s not true,” Violet protests, popping her head out around Thatcher. “She just shows affection in her own way.”
Saint always sees the best in people. It’s one of the reasons we all love her so much. But she’s right. Arwen is good to the people she loves. She has a tendency to care deeply. That’s why she’s so selective about who she lets get close to her.
Raising my eyebrows, I chuckle and meet Thatcher’s gaze. “I think we’re outnumbered.”
He shrugs. “Welcome to my wo
rld. It’s been that way for me since you and my other traitorous best friend started siding with Saint.”
“I’m a loveable person,” Violet quips. “It’s not their fault.”
A genuine smile spreads across Thatcher’s face as he gazes at his girl. “Trust me, I’m well aware of how impossible it is not to fall in love with you.”
It’s good to see both of them so happy again. Violet forgave Thatcher after reading the letters he sent over the summer. There were no more secrets between them. She knows about everything he’s been through and everything we did to make it right again.
Violet moans as Thatcher kisses her, and I turn my attention to Gwen. She’s chatting with Mia, who’s currently pouting about Cory escorting another girl onto the field. According to Gwen, those two have been hooking up for a while now. Mia played hard to get at first, hating that Cory spent years crushing on her best friend. Can’t say I blame her there.
My hand lands on Gwen’s thigh, slowly moving up the thin material of her joggers. She slaps a hand over mine to stop me without even bothering to pause her conversation or gaze my way.
“I can’t wait to get you in that hotel room tomorrow night,” I whisper, squeezing her leg. “I’m going to make you come so many times your entire body will feel like Jell-O.”
The hardest part about not living in Gwen’s house is not being able to hold her at night. But coming in as a close second is not being able to be inside of her whenever I want. It hasn’t been easy fitting in the time.
Since we’re all stuck going to this stupid dance tomorrow night, I figured we should make the best of it. We’ll make an appearance at the dance so I can support Arwen and show off my hot girlfriend. Then I’m stealing her away for some much-needed alone time.
Gwen stops mid-sentence, her head snapping in my direction. “I’m counting on it, Masterson.”
She winks before returning to her conversation with Mia, and then the heat from someone’s stare warms my skin. My gaze wanders through the crowd on the bleachers in search of the source. When I peer over my shoulder, it lands on Shane. He doesn’t even bother to look away, his eyes narrowing, lips curling into a crooked smile.
He hasn’t been a problem since our little chat in the parking garage. Gwen hasn’t received any more ominous messages, and I haven’t heard anything about him running his mouth. But the evil gleam in his stare makes it clear he isn’t done causing trouble for us yet.
Gwen hasn’t tried to tell me what he had on her since she agreed not to. Though I meant everything I said that day, it still plagues my thoughts occasionally. Whatever he had on her must’ve been pretty awful. Bad enough to hurt me and cause issues between us.
If Shane’s sitting on that kind of ammo, why isn’t he using it? I’ve learned a thing or two over the years about how people like him think. And my guess is, he’s simply waiting for the best time to take his shot. He’s planning to go in for the kill.
The chatter and laughter around me fade into the background as Gwen begins to descend the stairs. She’s wearing a long emerald dress with a neckline that dips down to her abdomen, placing her incredible cleavage on display. Her long hair is pulled back on the crown of her head, a cascade of dark waves falling down her back. The sight takes my breath away. It reminds me of the first time I laid eyes on the princess in a pretty dress, and I fall for her all over again.
I meet her at the bottom of the stairs, motioning with my finger for her to spin for me. She rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile on her lips as she gives me a twirl.
She faces me again, and I hum with appreciation.
“You like? The pockets are what sold it for me,” she jokes, her smile widening as she stuffs her hands into the pockets of the dress.
“I love it. You’re gorgeous, Princess.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she says.
“Not bad?” I tug on the lapels of my jacket. “We both know I look fine as hell.”
My emerald green velvet jacket, trimmed with black satin lapels, matches her dress perfectly. It’s paired with black suit pants and dress shoes. The purple bowtie and pocket square give the outfit an extra touch of style and personality.
She giggles as I lean in to kiss her, settling for her cheek since we have an audience.
My mother coos over Gwen, handing me the purple corsage I picked out for my date before she gives Gwen a hug. “You look so beautiful, sweetheart.”
“Thank you,” Gwen replies shyly as my mother steps out of the way.
“You two make the perfect pair,” Nina gushes as she steps up with Mark. “Don’t they, honey?”
Mark grunts in response, glaring at me with suspicion. Gwen waited to tell her father we were dating until after I was back home, but it wasn’t hard for him to figure out that things had started well before that. And Mark wasn’t thrilled knowing his daughter was shacked up with her boyfriend all summer.
We smile and pose for pictures as I put her corsage on and wait for everyone else to arrive. It’s all so normal, like we’re in some teenage chick flick instead of my life. But I’m loving every second of it.
Mia is the first to arrive, stealing Gwen away and leaving me with her date.
“Uh, hey, man. How’s it going?” Cory says.
I chuckle at the nervous waver in his tone, acknowledging him with a lift of my chin. The huge football player is three times my size but acts like he’s scared to death of me. When I had a little heart-to-heart with him at his end-of-summer bash to clear up any confusion about Gwen’s availability, he looked like he was going to shit his pants. To be fair, I have taken down bigger dudes than him. Just not with my fists. But as long as he’s not after my girl, we don’t have any problems.
If he hurts Mia, however, Gwen will be the one he has to worry about. Her bestie has fallen hard for the brainless jock.
Arwen’s dad goes straight for my mother when he comes in. She’s practically glowing as he pulls her into his arms, and my heart warms. Mom put on a good front for me all these years, but this is the first time I’ve seen her truly happy since my father died. And those memories are slowly beginning to fade.
Arwen and Aidan come in shortly after her father, and I wave her over. It’s still a little strange seeing them together. They couldn’t be any less suitably matched. Arwen, walking around with her bad girl I don’t give a fuck attitude and Aidan with that people-pleasing smile on his face.
“Don’t say a fucking word,” she warns.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I snicker. “I was merely going to say all hail the queen.”
Aidan coughs out a laugh, turning his attention to Cory when Arwen cuts her stormy eyes at him.
“Go to hell,” she grits, rubbing the tip of her nose with her middle finger. “Where are Thatcher and Saint? We need to get going. I’ve already been through picture hell with Aidan’s mother and don’t wish to experience it again. My face literally hurts from smiling so much.”
“You better suck it up, buttercup. There’s no way my mom is letting us leave without getting some pictures of everyone together.”
Arwen’s stare flickers across the room to our parents as she groans. “They’re sickeningly happy.”
“I know. Isn’t it great?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She sighs. “It really is.”
Thatcher and Violet arrive fifteen minutes later than the agreed upon time, and I have a pretty good idea what kept them. The blush on Saint’s cheeks as I tease her about it proves my suspicions.
As we’re all paired and lined up for pictures, it dawns on me that everyone I care about is in this room. Everyone content and getting along. The realization should bring me peace, but a dread sours my stomach.
I’ve experienced more than my fair share of heartbreak and struggle, accepting a long time ago that my life would never resemble the pages of a storybook. Maybe that’s why it’s so hard to relish in this moment. Why it seems so impossible to shake the fear it’s all going to blow up.
&nb
sp; Chapter Thirty-Two
14 years old
COLE
Gwen runs into my room, giggling as I lock us inside and stalk toward her. Each of our parents are out for the evening—which usually never happens. It also means we have the entire house to ourselves for the next two hours, and we plan to make the most of it.
Usually the only time we’re alone is late at night when I sneak into Gwen’s room after everyone has gone to bed. Most nights we just talk and make out until we fall asleep in each other’s arms. Occasionally the kissing leads to something a little more. We’ve cleared all the bases at this point. There’s only one thing we haven’t done yet.
Her laughter fades into labored breathing once I capture her, my hands resting on her hips. I silently stare at her for a minute, wanting to remember every detail about this night. She’s so damn beautiful.
She hooks her arms around my neck and pushes up on the balls of her feet, her mouth timidly connecting with mine. I tug her body to me, wrapping her in my arms as the kiss deepens.
My heart beats rapidly inside my chest, excitement and fear flooding me with adrenaline. Everything about this feels familiar yet brand new.
She pulls her mouth from mine, panting as my lips find their way to her neck instead.
“Cole?”
I hum against her skin, not wanting to stop tasting her.
“I love you.”
My lips freeze at her words. I’ve heard them countless times before. She says it every day. But this one felt different. Like she’s answering yes to the question I hadn’t asked yet.
We haven’t talked about tonight being the night. It was merely implied, with both of us knowing we might not get this opportunity again for a while. Even my mother unknowingly contributed to our unspoken plan when she bought me a box of condoms, just in case.
The Princess and The Jester: A High School Bully Romance (Westbrook Three Book 3) Page 17