PAINE: ROSEWOOD HIGH #2

by Lorraine, Tracy

  I swear steam nearly blows from my ears. My teeth grind as my fingers twitch to lash out at him. If it weren’t for the fact that the rest of our class are all staring at us, waiting for something to kick off, then I might just do it.

  Something crackles between us as our stare holds. I want to say it’s hate, but even I’m not blind enough to recognize that it’s laced with desire, a need that I’m not sure either of us is going to be able to deny forever.

  I open my mouth to say something, fuck knows what, when our teacher slams the classroom door. Rustling fills my ears as everyone turns to look to the front of the room.

  “Miss Lopez, Mr. Paine, do we have a problem here? I’m sure it could all be sorted out in detention.”

  I blow out a frustrated breath and turn toward Mr. Lawrence, who’s standing with his hands on his hips waiting none too patiently to begin his lesson.

  “N-No, sir. We’re good.”

  I take my seat, but Mason’s stare burns into the back of my head, and the second Mr. Lawrence turns to write on the board, I look over my shoulder to find that he is indeed staring daggers into me. His eyes might be narrowed and hard, but I see more within them. I see the twinkle of delight, the promise, the lust that sends tingles headed straight between my thighs.

  The second the bell goes, I scoop up everything from my desk and run. I don’t know if I’m running more from Noah or Mason—not that it really matters. I don’t want to talk to either of them.

  Thankfully, the rest of the day is uneventful. Well, unless you count the huge chocolate cake that Amalie appears with in the cafeteria at lunchtime with eighteen candles lit and ready to be blown out by the birthday girl.

  With the majority of the school making the trip to Eden Falls for the game tonight, it means that Aces is pretty dead after school when I walk in with Amalie and Alyssa flanking my sides.

  “You know you could have gone tonight, right?” I say to Amalie, who’s missing the game to have a milkshake with me.

  “We can be apart sometimes, you know.”

  “Really?” I ask, my eyebrows almost hitting my hairline.

  “Anyway, I’m having dinner with Gran tonight. Going to broach the subject of me moving out.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “I’m pretty sure she knows it’s coming. I’m hardly ever there and living in Jake’s trailer. She knows how much money I inherited, so I’d be crazy not to use it.”

  “You found a place yet?” Her face transforms at my question. “You have?”

  She pulls her cell from her pocket, swipes the screen and then turns it to me. I look down at the small but perfectly formed newly-built duplex on the outskirts of town, and my heart drops. I feel selfish that it’s my first reaction. It’s not all that far away, but it will put the final nail in the coffin for any more morning trips to school together. Not that they’d been happening recently. It’s just another thing that’s changing, and I don’t like it.

  “It’s cute.”

  “You could sound a little more enthusiastic.”

  “I’m sorry. It really is nice. I can totally see you living there.” That perks her up a little.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Have you viewed it?”

  “We’re going Sunday. I’m so excited. A place of our own, no worrying about damp or my gran walking in on us.”

  “As if everyone at school didn’t envy you enough already,” Alyssa helpfully adds.

  “Yeah, the girl with dead parents who had to move halfway around the world. All they see is the good stuff, they ignore the pain it took to get there.”

  “I-I know that. I was just saying.”

  An awkward silence settles over us.

  “So you think they’re going to do it tonight?”

  “Of course they are. Jake was confident they were ready. Still pissed Mas—sorry,” she cuts herself off when she sees the grimace on my face.

  “What’s up with that anyway? He suddenly gives up the team and starts fighting your battles for you. Has he had another personality transplant?” Alyssa asks, and I feel guilty that we’re not as close as we were when Mason changed the first time. She experienced it all with me back then, knew every little thing he did to me, but now she’s barely on the sidelines of what’s going on.

  “He’s got some family stuff going on. He’s had to stop playing, but it’s only temporary. He’ll be back before the end of the season.” I want to believe what Nicky said to me this morning but honestly, I’m having a hard time doing so.

  Our conversation turns to another of my favorite topics right now: college applications. I just about manage to hold in my groan as Amalie explains that she’s managed to get Jake to a meeting with Miss French and he’s finally beginning to accept that college could be an option. It makes me realize that I’m not the only one dealing with everything changing in my life and that I should suck it up and get on with it like everyone else around me seems to be doing.

  Once our milkshakes are empty and we’ve exhausted our college chat, they both agree to meet at mine tomorrow morning before our date at the spa. I just hope that our conversations tomorrow while being pampered can stay on the lighter end of the scale. We’re supposed to be relaxing, not stressing about our futures.

  My parents are both in their bedroom getting ready for our meal when I get in, but I find Nicky, Ollie, and Charlie playing in the living room. The second I see she’s alone I turn to escape, not wanting a rerun of this morning at breakfast.

  “Camila, please wait.”

  I pause halfway to the stairs, but I don’t turn around.

  “I wanted to apologize. I was out of order this morning. You were right, everything you said about me as a mom. You’re right. I’ve failed. I’ve failed Mason, and if I’m not careful, I’m going to ruin those two in there too. I’m going to fix it though.”

  “How?” I ask, spinning on the balls of my feet and pinning her with a look I hope comes across as threatening.

  “I-I... uh... I’ve got a job.”

  “Just like that? How convenient.”

  “I had been looking, just not putting as much effort in as possible.” I raise an eyebrow, not believing a word of it. “It’s a bar over in East. I start after the boys’ bedtime and will be home to make them breakfast and take them to school. The wages are so much more than my last job, so hopefully we’ll be able to get back on our feet sometime soon and out of your hair. I know life’s not been easy for you with us all—Mason—living so close.”

  “It’s—”

  “Don’t try to pretend that it’s anything other than it is, Camila. I’ve leaned on your mom too much, relied on her to help me, but she’s my best friend, not my keeper. I start tomorrow night and I’ve arranged for the boys to have a sleepover, so the house is yours if you wanted to celebrate your birthday without any adults around.” The reminder that my parents leave in the morning doesn’t fill me with joy. I’m also not sure how I feel about the prospect of Mason and me having the house to ourselves. Anything could happen. I fight to keep the wicked smile from my lips that threatens to break free at the prospect. “I won’t take up any more of your time. Go and get ready, I just needed to tell you that you’re right and I’m sorry.”

  With a nod, I turn back to the stairs, but before I lift a foot, I say over my shoulder, “I’m not the only one you need to be telling this to.”

  “I know. I’ll speak to him, I promise.”

  The only thing I can do is take her word for it, so I continue up to my room. Before pulling out the dress I bought for tonight, I grab my cell and send both Amalie and Alyssa a text.

  Me: Got the house to myself tomorrow night. Want a girls’ night in?

  I avoid adding to keep me away from Mason if he’s here, but I’m pretty sure Amalie will be able to read between the lines. And I’m proved right ten minutes later when I get a reply.

  Amalie: Sounds like fun but if you want him, go get him!

  Groaning, I throw my cell
on my bed and take my outfit with me to the bathroom.

  24

  Mason

  “Get your ass over here now. I had this party for you,” Ethan complains when I answer his sixth call after finishing work and replying to his message that I’m not coming to his house to get wasted.

  “Fuck off. That’s bullshit and you know it.”

  “But we won,” he whines like a little bitch. “You know how horny I get when we win.”

  “Fucking hell, if I agree, will you stop talking?”

  “Yes! I’ve got a row of shots waiting for me and a gaggle of girls all wanting a piece. You might not even find me when you arrive.”

  “A gaggle?” I ask, although really, I don’t need any more detail than that.

  Ethan seems to be diving headfirst into whatever bottle and willing girl he can find recently. He claims to be having fun, but there are shadows in his eyes that tell a different story. He’s friends with the wrong two guys if he thinks that Jake and I can’t see that it’s all a cover for something. For what though? We have no idea.

  “Yes, now get your ass here. There’s plenty to go around.”

  The idea of touching another girl besides the one I can’t get out of my head is anything but appealing, but knowing Ethan needs me has me putting my car in drive and heading to his place. I know Camila was going out with her parents tonight, so I can only hope she won’t be there so we won’t have a repeat of last week.

  The music’s pounding when I step through Ethan’s front door, and, as usual, there are people everywhere, quite a few of whom I don’t even recognize. Making my way to the kitchen, I try to find Jake. I’m sure he wants to celebrate as much as Ethan does after another win. I try to push aside that it’s another win that they managed without me.

  “Mase, my man. Get over here,” Ethan calls the second he spots me. “Here.” He hands me two shots of something dark. I hesitate in knocking them back, unlike him. “Live a little,” he says, having another before leaning in and whispering, “She’s not here. No rescue mission needed tonight. Kick back.”

  Without a second thought, I tip the small glass to my lips and allow the liquid to burn down my throat before warming my belly. It feels good. But not as good as the haze that begins after the third... or fourth one. Damn, it’s been too long since I felt this free.

  I hang around with Ethan for a bit before a couple of girls come over and drag us to the living room to dance. I have no clue who they are, but as I watch Ethan shove his tongue down one of their throats, I guess he does, or he just really doesn’t care.

  I drink, I dance, I fight off multiple advances from different girls. I must admit that by the end of the night when people are either starting to leave or pass out, the temptation of those who are still interested is high. I haven’t had sex for-fucking-ever, and the thought of sliding balls deep into a willing girl has my cock thickening in my pants. But then the image of Camila with her fingers gripping onto my hair so tightly I thought she was going to pull it out hits me, and the temptation to drag one of them upstairs wanes a bit.

  I’d gotten a text from Mom when I’d left work to tell me that she’d organized for the boys to have a sleepover tomorrow night and that she’d be out, so I know I don’t need to worry about my responsibilities tonight. Knowing that is such a weight lifted from my shoulders, but my desire to go home to her only gets stronger the more alcohol I have.

  “I need to go home,” I slur to whomever’s listening.

  “Nah, man. You’ve had too much.” I squint my eyes at the face which has just said that. I vaguely recognize him. A member of the team? Who the hell knows.

  “I need… I need her.”

  “I’m sure I can find you someone suitable.” As he says that, someone I do recognize comes hopping around the corner. “Hey, Chels. Mason needs a girl.”

  She licks her lips and eyes the length of me. Any desire that was coursing through my veins instantly vanishes. She hobbles over and attempts to look sexy as she falls onto the sofa.

  “What can I do for you?” She winks, and it makes me want to bring up the drink I’ve consumed.

  “I think I’m good.”

  “Here, have a drink with me.”

  I oblige because there’s nothing else I want to do with her, even if she does suck good cock.

  * * *

  A sharp pain to my shin wakes me up. My eyes fly open in shock as it radiates up my thigh.

  What the fuck?

  Rubbing at my leg, I look around a room I recognize as being one of Ethan’s guestrooms before dropping my eyes to the bed beside me.

  Oh no, no, no.

  My heart starts to pound and blood rushes past my ears in panic as I stare down at a sleeping Chelsea.

  No, no, no, no.

  I slide from my bed on still drunk, wobbly legs and back away. Did I drink that much? Looking down at myself, I’m relieved to find that I’m still wearing my jeans and boxers, although my fly is undone.

  I look around the room, hoping to find my shirt, but I come up empty. Fuck.

  Chelsea stirs and I panic. Rushing from the room, I don’t look where I’m going and stub my toe on the corner of the dresser.

  “Motherfucker,” I cry, grabbing my toe in agony as my eyes water.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” Her sweet, sickly voice has bile racing up my throat.

  Please tell me I didn’t. Please, dear fucking god, tell me I didn’t.

  “Come back to bed. I’ll make it all better.”

  Glancing over my shoulder, I find her sitting up in bed with the covers pooled at her waist.

  “Put them away, Chelsea. I’m not interested.”

  “Not what you said last night.”

  “You’re lying,” I state, reaching for the door handle to get the fuck away from her. There might be a pair of tits ready for the taking, but knowing who they’re attached to doesn’t make the risk worth it by a long shot.

  “Am I?”

  Not being able to stand her voice any longer, I close the door behind me and go in search of my shirt and some painkillers.

  “Yo, sick night, man,” Ethan says, stumbling into the kitchen while I’m rummaging through his cupboards with a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

  “Please tell me you’re not having that for breakfast.”

  “What?” he asks, lifting it to his lips and downing a generous shot. “Hair of the dog.”

  “What the fuck’s going on with you?”

  “Enjoying life, just like you should be.”

  “Who says I’m not?”

  “Your face.” He looks up over my shoulder, his eyes lighting up. “Wait a minute, is there something you want to share?”

  Before I get a chance to ask or even look around, arms slip around my waist and Chelsea appears at my side wearing... my fucking shirt.

  “Give it back,” I demand, removing her from my body.

  “Aw, I thought you left it for me, baby.”

  “Un-fucking-likely. Give it back.”

  “Okay,” she says with a shrug and a salacious smile. She props her crutch against the counter and curls her fingers around the bottom of the fabric. “If you insist.”

  As she peels it up her body, Ethan’s eyes go wide as saucers.

  “Damn, girl. What were you wasting your time on him for?”

  “Fucking have her,” I spit, pulling the fabric of my shirt over my head and cringing when I realize it smells like her pretentious perfume.

  “Come here, baby. Let me show you how a real man does it.”

  Chelsea takes Ethan’s outstretched hand, not giving two shits about the fact that she’s standing there stark naked. Girl’s got no shame or morals, and the further away I am from her, the better.

  Reaching into my pocket for my car keys, I find something else first. I pull the foil free from the fabric to find an empty condom wrapper.

  Anger bubbles up inside me. Storming back over, I wrap my fingers around Chelsea’s arm and pull her from Ethan�
��s grasp.

  “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but it needs to stop.” I flick the wrapper in her face. “You might be a bitch, Chelsea, but this isn’t you. I know I didn’t fuck you last night. I wasn’t even capable of getting up the stairs, so cut the shit and stop pretending. You’re only trying to convince yourself.”

  She opens her mouth, but I’ve had enough of her bullshit and storm from the house.

  Why the fuck did I come here last night? I should have just gone home to bed, or even better, the bed next door.

  The house is in silence when I arrive home. Camila’s parents have left for New York, she’s at her birthday spa trip with Amalie and Alyssa, and Mom’s pawned the boys off on a friend, presumably so she can have a night out. I roll my eyes. Taking myself straight to the bathroom, I strip out of my Chelsea scented shirt and throw it at the wall like this whole mess is its fault. Turning the water up as hot as it goes, I step underneath. I’m fairly certain nothing happened between us last night and she’s just playing her usual game, probably trying to make some poor guy jealous by making it look like everyone else wants her. I’d like to have hoped she’d grown up enough to realize that that shit don’t work, but apparently not. The water burns but I ignore it, wanting to wash away every second of last night. The less I remember the better.

  Once I get back to my room, I fall onto my bed with the intention of getting some more sleep but I end up just lying there staring at the ceiling, wondering what time Camila’s coming back.

  I eventually get fed up of just wasting time and pull some homework from my bag and attempt to catch up a little after another week of working late. The sooner Mom sorts her shit out and I can cut down, the better.

  I get lost in what I’m doing, and whoever it is at the front door ends up ringing incessantly before I give up and climb from the bed to find out who it is.

  “Wassup, man!” Ethan booms, stepping into the house with a crate, followed by Jake and the rest of the team.

  “What the hell are you doing?”