by J Bree
Well.
I guess I should suck it up then.
It’s impossible to properly mope and wallow with Lips around.
For one, I hate looking fucking pathetic around her, even if she doesn’t judge me fucking once the entire time I’m here, but I also can’t look at her without fucking craving her. I want to wrap myself around her when she’s studying, I want to listen to her hum quietly under her breath while she’s flipping pancakes, and I for-fucking-sure want to see what noises I can coax out of her while I’m fucking her raw on the couch.
I need something to fucking distract me from how badly I want her.
So, when she offers me a joint if I’ll take a shower, I fucking jump at it. She opens all of the windows like the idea of sucking in any secondhand smoke is a crime but I’m too fucking eager for it to give a shit.
The shower really does make me feel better.
She’s too fucking good at this caretaker shit.
Then I eat the pancakes like an obedient little fucking worm, gulping down the coffee that she makes fucking perfectly for me. When I’m done, she hands me a bowl of ice cream, the same way my mom used to after my dad would yell at me, like our own little secret. It always made me feel like we were together in dealing with Dad.
It was before he broke her down, before she chose her marriage over her son, and before I decided to stop hoping she’d leave the fucking asshole, just run away from him together and be broke but fucking happy.
I don’t want the ice cream now but she’s so fucking invested in it that I take it.
I try to distract myself from the bullshit threatening to take over in my head again. “What’s your earliest memory, Mounty? No wait, don’t answer that. It’s probably really fucking bad and I’ll feel like a pussy for comparing.”
She laughs at me quietly, the raspy sound washing over me like some kind of communion. I finally light the joint, sucking in a great lungful and blowing the smoke out the window. I’m not addicted but, fuck, it helps chase away some of the shadows playing around in my head.
Lips clears her throat. “My mom rolling joints on the back steps to our house. It was too hot to move and I kept crying and pissing her off so she filled a bucket with water and dumped me in it. I think she was trying to be cruel but it was the best feeling ever.”
What a cunt.
But bonding over shit parents is what I do best. “My father’s office. A modernist nightmare of cold steel and crisp white boxes. I’ve fallen asleep on his weird couch, that doesn’t even have cushions, under his suit jacket. I wake up but I keep my eyes shut because even at five years old I know that when my parents talk in that hushed secret way they’re talking about me. My mom is telling my dad that ‘normal’ children can’t read by age five and to lower his expectations. My father says he’s sure I’m actually retarded. His ethics board would shit themselves if they knew how he speaks to me. He has a whole list of words he likes to use in my direction because he was born with an IQ of 190 and I’m…so fucking average. I remember I cried and he looked so disgusted at me. Said I’d probably turn out to be a faggot too. Imagine every derogatory word in the book and that man has thrown it at me and the worst part…the fucking stupidest thing is I still care. I still hate that I don’t measure up.”
She stares at me for a second and I lose it, I lose the last tiny scraps of my soul that she didn’t already own because when Lips Anderson looks at you she sees everything. Every-fucking-thing. And the terrifying thing is that she likes what she sees in me. All of the cruel and handsome and broken and true—every little piece of it that she finds, she likes.
She fucking owns me.
Arbour is going to murder me.
“Eat your fucking ice cream, Morrison. Do we need to hug? It’s not really my thing but I'll give it a go for you.”
I burst out laughing, because I’m fucked and if I hug her I’ll end up kissing her too, so I dig into the ice cream.
It doesn’t taste like heartbreak anymore.
When I finish the bowl, and I have more control over myself again, I sling an arm around her shoulder and whisper in her ear, “How about a song, Mounty? Sing me something with that voice of yours that's so good you can beat me in choir.”
Because there’s nothing I want more than to finally hear this voice of hers, the one that even Avery fell in love with while she was on her warpath.
I’m shit out of luck there though because she blanches, the color seeping out of her skin entirely as she gulps and squeaks out, “Ah, sorry. I have severe stage fright. Avery and I are working on it.”
I groan, but if I’m not going to hear it for myself then I want to at least enjoy the rest of our afternoon together so I hunt down my guitar and lyric book instead and watch the light start up in her eyes when I sit back down.
“I’ll have to give you a private concert then, Mounty. I’ve been working on some songs, tell me what you think.”
She fucking melts.
I’m doomed.
Chapter Nineteen
Harley
Morrison comes back from the girls’ room with an attitude.
The type of attitude that’ll get his fucking face broken if he’s not careful and Ash takes note of it too. When I get back to the room on Monday from my swim practice, he’s already awake and messing around on his guitar, his lyric book out in front of himself on the bed and a pick tucked behind his ear. I sling my bag onto the bed and he glances up at me with a glare, not even attempting to hide how fucking confrontational he really is, so I stalk into the bathroom for a shower.
He’s always been an asshole, but not like this.
When I get back out, Ash is back from his run and gulping down more water in the kitchen. He’s spent more time than ever pounding the pavement and I think we’re all a little too fucking pent up for our own good because he glares at me too.
“If either of you have something to say then just fucking say it. This bullshit moodiness is getting on my last fucking nerve.”
Ash slowly lowers the bottle to the kitchen counter, his eyes fucking savage, but it’s Morrison who answers me.
“When are you going to stop being a pussy and actually make a move on Lips? Where have your balls gone, man? Because if you don’t then I’m going to.”
Nope.
I swing around to level my own pissy fucking look his way. “It’s not that fucking simple.”
Morrison laughs at me. Fucking tips his head back and just roars with the kind of laughter I know is all scathing wit. “What’s not simple about walking over there and shooting your fucking shot? Either she wants you back or not. Maybe you should fuck her out of your system and then leave her for the rest of us who want a taste.”
Nope.
Not a fucking chance.
I’m at his bed with a fistful of his sweatshirt before any of us have the chance to blink. Ash curses under his breath and stalks over to pull us apart as I drag Morrison up to his knees on the bed.
“Don’t you ever fucking talk about her like that. She’s not some piece of ass and I’ll fucking take you out if you keep that shit up.”
I’m expecting him to let it go but his eyes narrow my way. “You don’t date. You’ve shut down every girl who’s ever wanted more than a quick fuck; how am I supposed to know you want more than just the chase here?”
My jaw cracks as I grind my answer out through my teeth. “She’s different. Why are we going over this again, I’ve already fucking told you to stay away from her.”
He huffs and jerks himself out of my grip. “Yeah, and then you didn’t do a fucking thing about it. You’re holding up the fucking line.”
Nope.
Don’t like that either.
Except this time Ash is close enough to grab me and even the extra muscle mass I have on him doesn’t stop him from jerking me back from killing Morrison.
He grunts and snaps, “Just fucking do something about it or get over her. Is she really worth all of this?”
Morrison slides off of his bed and snarls, “I’ve given you time to do something! Fuck, how long does it really take to ask her out? Or have you already been rejected and you’re guarding her ass like the crown fucking jewels? Pathetic, man.”
Killing them both seems like the only option right now, but then Ash’s phone starts fucking ringing and with one last glare he lets me go to answer it.
It only rings for Avery, and he never misses her calls thanks to last year.
“I’m a little busy right now, Floss… sure, we can come over… I can get dinner tonight… order in, we’ll grab it on our way… do you need anything else… don’t go anywhere without me.”
I stare Morrison down as he starts to pull on his training gear. Getting into the ring with him now is too fucking dangerous, not something either of us should be doing with the headspace we’re in, but I’m feeling reckless.
When Ash hangs up, I think fuck it and just lay it out there. “Someone is threatening Lips. She won’t tell me shit about it, and neither will Avery, but something is going on with her. I’ve taken out half the fucking senior class trying to find out what’s going on but they’re all keeping their shit locked down tight.”
And if I wasn’t already so sure that they’re both panting after her, I sure-as-fuck am now.
Both of them look at me like I’ve been holding out information from them that is life changing.
“Who the fuck is threatening her and why the hell didn’t you tell us?” Morrison snarls, his shirt half on as he stalks back over like maybe he’s about to take swing at me.
I roll my eyes at him. “You really want to go there? I didn’t tell either of you because neither of you gives a shit about her, right? She’s just some girl from Mounts Bay that you like messing with. I’ll fucking fix it.”
Ash doesn’t say a word, he just picks up his workout bag and walks out. Morrison stares at him and then turns back to me.
“Don’t fucking keep that shit from me. I don’t give a fuck how he feels about her; if someone is messing with her then you come to me.”
Fuck.
The backup would be good but clearly he’s not going to let his infatuation with her go easily.
Fuck.
Ash doesn’t go down to the gym.
Morrison and I spend half the day beating the shit out of each other in the ring, clearing up some of the pent-up rage without aiming for the face, but he doesn’t show up.
It’s not until Avery summons us to her room for dinner that we find him, freshly showered with busted-up knuckles, and I figure out where the fuck he’s been.
“Yes, all three of you need to sit your asses down and explain to me what the hell is going on. Eight seniors have dropped out, three are hospitalized, and the rest are running away screaming from us all in the halls,” Avery snaps the second she sees us eyeing off the damage.
I glance around, but Lips is nowhere to be seen.
“She’s at tutoring with the Mounty dickhead,” Ash mumbles, but he’s sitting at the table with a bourbon and zero fucks about any of what Avery has just thrown at us.
Clearly he’s already heard half of it.
“Don’t worry about it, Floss. We’re dealing with it.”
Her eyes narrow at me but Morrison stalks forward and grabs us both beers, slumping into the chair next to Ash and sliding a beer across the table to me as I take a seat with them.
None of us say a word.
It doesn’t take Avery long to lose her shit at us in the most Beaumont way. Her eyes narrow, her lip curls just a little, and she very slowly slides into the seat next to mine.
She doesn’t speak for another minute, just slowly staring each one of us down, and Morrison gulps down his beer so he doesn’t have to make eye contact with her.
Such a fucking pussy.
“You’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on or I will make your lives so miserable you’ll be begging for my forgiveness.”
There are a lot of ways she could ruin us all and only half of them are off-limits.
I try to catch Ash’s eye but he’s still fucking drowning in denial over the whole mess so I tell my own truth of the situation.
Well… I tell the bare minimum.
“The bet is still going about fucking Lips and I don’t like it. The seniors started it and they’ll fucking end it too.”
Avery stares at Ash but he just stares back at her, his face giving away nothing. I start to get this feeling that shit is about to go really fucking badly at this table when there’s scratching and fumbling at the door before it finally flings open and a fucking livid Lips stalks in.
I’ve seen her angry before but that was a cold and deadly thing; I’ve seen her take guys to the ground before but even that was a flash of rage that burned out the second she struck. This is something different altogether.
We all watch her, transfixed and fucking hypnotized, as she sheds her bag and shoes, silent even as her blazer gets torn off, but when I realize we’re about to get the angriest striptease of our lives, I clear my throat to stop her.
She swings around to finally see us all sitting here fucking gaping at her and Avery arches an eyebrow at her with a little smile, one that would usually have her smiling back but, nope, it just sets her the fuck off.
“Fuck today, fuck this school, and fuck every fucking knuckle-scraping, chest-beating, egotistical piece of shit guy in this fucking hellhole!” she screams as she stalks to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
“What the fuck was that?” Morrison sputters, and Avery giggles at him, standing and heading after her.
“That was Eclipse Anderson, pushed to the edge by something and when I find out what it is, you’ll kill it for me.”
When she opens the bathroom door, the shower is running and Lips lets out this frustrated screaming sound and I’m onboard with straight up murder today. Just bleeding some cunt out for daring to make her feel like this.
“Do you think this is retaliation? Some fucking senior coming after her for what you two have been doing?” Morrison says, getting up for more beers.
He slides another one over to me and I take it because I need to calm the fuck down before Lips gets out here and takes a swing at me for losing my fucking head.
Ash shrugs. “If it is then we’ll deal with it.”
I scoff at him. “Finally admitting you’re into her, then? Am I going to have to stake a claim with you as well?”
His lip curls at me but then the bathroom door opens and the girls walk out together, Avery looking cold and calculating and Lips still looking pissed. She’s wearing one of those ugly old man sweaters again, and I make a note to start leaving my shit here again so she has better options.
Not that I really think she’d wear my shit but a guy can hope.
Avery starts dishing out dinner to us all, only Lips refuses a plate and goes straight for a tub of ice cream, no bowl just a spoon. That’s not a good sign from any girl.
“You gonna share with the class whose fault it is you’re pissy or just attempt a diabetic coma?”
She shoves a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth and flips me off. Ash snorts at her and she glares back at him, talking with her mouth full which should not be so fucking endearing. “Thanks for skipping, by the way. I had to deal with the little creep by myself.”
Ash smirks at her but I can see the relief clear as fucking day. “I didn’t realize you needed backup, I thought your knife was enough.”
She doesn’t take that well and if I wasn’t keenly aware of just how fucking inexperienced she is, I’d say she was getting back at him with all of the tongue action on the spoon. Morrison has to adjust himself, fucking squirming in his seat, and that sends me over the edge. “Stop tongue fucking the spoon. Some of us are going through a dry spell.”
She flicks a cherry at me and keeps going.
I might die of blood loss if I keep watching her, everything rushing to my dick at the sight.
Avery gets sick of all o
f us panting after her bestie so she tucks her arm into Lips’ and says sweetly, “Lance offered his services to end the bet. When Lips declined his offer he took it upon himself to try and persuade her. Alas, the great and complex mind of Eclipse unknown-middle-name Anderson remains an unsolvable puzzle to mere mortal men.”
I’ll kill the Mounty fuck.
Blaise takes another swig of the beer, trying and failing to cover his moan at what Lips is doing to him right now, completely unaware. “What a dick. Maybe you should just fuck someone and get it over with. Might lighten your mood.”
Right.
I’m killing Morrison too.
But the second I open my mouth to tear him a new asshole, Lips shoots me a savage look, clearly not wanting details of her private life aired out for us all to see.
Fine.
New tactic.
I grit my teeth for a second before saying, “We decided Lips is in, right? Avery and I vouched for her, Blaise has come around, and Ash may still be a stubborn dick but we all know she’s in. So, are we going to accept some dickhead chasing her tail, begging for sex, or are we going to remind the sheep of where they belong?”
Lips looks like she’s going to cry over me being decent to her and even Ash can’t fucking handle that shit, jumping in with, “We’ve gone from three people on the planner to pure fucking bedlam. Joey, Harlow, Annabelle, Lance, dozens of little bitches from the stupid fucking website. We need to get on the same page and decide what our priorities are. Is Lance going to be an issue?”
Lips clears her throat. “No. I’m pissed but I’m not in any real danger.”
Blaise opens yet another beer and points the bottle at her with a slow, dirty smirk. “I’ll beat the disrespectful little fuck for you.”
I scoff at him. “Only if you get to him first.”
