by Erin Watt
“He told me to stay away from you. He said you would hurt me, and that too many people have already gotten hurt. What did he mean by that?”
He shrugs again.
“Reed,” I warn. “I swear, if you don’t tell me what’s going on, we are not getting back together. I can’t handle any more lies. I mean it.”
He lets out a breath. “Right after Mom died, Gideon and I snuck into a fundraiser my dad was supposed to attend but bailed on. He was too busy with Steve somewhere. We got wasted.”
I grumble in annoyance. “What does that have to do with any of this?”
“You wanted to know what’s going on with Gid. I’m telling you.” Reed scowls at me. “Dinah was at that fundraiser.”
“Oh.” I bite my lip. Shoot, maybe I don’t want to know the details, after all.
“Yeah. She’d kinda been hitting on Gid for a while, and she caught him coming out of the bathroom and they…uh, made out for a bit.”
“Reeeeeeed,” I say with a bucket full of exasperation. “Is this where you got your I’m going to screw my dad’s girlfriend idea?”
His guilty expression gives him away. “Maybe.” He sighs. “Anyway, after that, she wouldn’t leave Gid alone. She’d corner him constantly and make these sleazy comments about how she liked fresh, young, ripe things.”
I can’t keep a disgusted look off my face. “That’s really gross.”
“No shit. She wanted more. Like, she was—is—seriously obsessed with him. After that party, she was shameless about trying to seduce him. He told me so many sick stories about it, you don’t even want to know. But he fell for Savannah and wanted nothing to do with Steve’s gold-digger. So then one night she asks Gid to come over, says she has something to show him. My dad and Steve were out of town, as usual. Gid went over to the penthouse.” Reed pauses. “He came home that night and told me he slept with Dinah.”
“Ew. Why?”
“Because she blackmailed him,” Reed says flatly.
“Are you serious? With what?”
“Pictures. She got her hands on Gid’s phone. I guess he left it in the kitchen or something when she was over one time. Dinah snooped around and found all these pictures that Sav and Gid were sending each other.”
“Dirty pictures?”
“Yeah.”
“So?” I’m still confused. “People text dirty pictures to each other all the time.”
“But they’re cracking down on it. These two kids down in Raleigh were charged with seven counts of child porn when the girl’s parents found out they were sexting. The girl’s full ride to UNC was yanked. If it was only Gid’s neck on the line, he probably would’ve told Dinah to go to hell, but Dinah swore she’d drag Sav into it and even release the pics to the entire school.”
I feel even sicker now. “So Dinah blackmailed him into bed with her?”
“Pretty much. It’s been over a year now. He broke it off with Sav and she was devastated.”
I think of Savannah, who’s such a brittle, hard-edged girl. Her smiles are thin and her words are cutting. If she truly loved Gideon, then the pain she’s going through must be horrible. “That’s so awful.”
Reed makes a face. “He’s gonna kill me for telling you all this.”
“I’m glad you did,” I say sternly. “Because now we can come up with a plan.”
“A plan for what?”
“To save Gideon from Dinah. We can’t let her keep doing this to him. Otherwise he’s going to lose his mind.”
“Sometimes I feel like this is some part of a plan that Brooke and Dinah have. Like they divvied us up and decided they’d ruin the Royals, one at a time. Steve included.” Reed shakes his head. “It sounds crazy when I say it out loud.”
“You really think Brooke and Dinah planned this?”
“They’re friends. I think Dad was screwing Brooke before Mom died, but I don’t know anything about them. Steve showed up with Dinah one day and she had a ring on her finger. Marrying her didn’t slow him down, though.”
“What else do we know about Dinah? And where do you think she’s keeping the evidence she has against Gid? Do you think she’s shown it to anyone?”
“I doubt it, otherwise Gid would’ve been arrested ages ago.”
“If we can get our hands on those pictures, Dinah has nothing. No leverage at all.” I think it over. “How do we find it? Would she be dumb enough to keep it at the penthouse? Smart enough to make copies?”
“I don’t know. But you might be right. If we can find all the stuff she has on him and get rid of it, we could put this thing behind us.”
“But what about Brooke?”
“Brooke,” he repeats with disgust. “We need a paternity test. I don’t understand why Dad won’t get one.”
“I don’t either.” I chew on the end of my thumb until Reed pulls it out of my mouth.
“You’re going to gnaw your finger off if you think about it anymore. Can we stop talking about Brooke and Dinah? At least for a bit.”
“Why?”
His gaze heats up. “Because there’re better ways to spend our time right now.”
“Like what—”
Before I can finish, he rolls me over and presses his lips against my neck. “Like that,” he whispers.
I gasp. “Oh…okay.”
His clever fingers find a bare patch of skin above my waistband, and while a stronger girl might’ve been able to repress a shiver, I’ve never been able to resist Reed before. Seems pointless to try now. Especially when I enjoy his touch so much.
He burrows his nose against my neck and continues his slow sweep across my waist as if he’s happy to do nothing more than this. And for a while that’s all I need, too. I let the silence sink in around us and enjoy the simple touch. In the peace comes the realization this is the first time in forever that I’ve had a quiet moment with another person.
“Do you really forgive me?” he asks.
I stroke a hand over his glossy, dark hair. When I look at Reed and his muscular frame and his hard face, sometimes I forget that he’s got a heart that’s as fragile as mine. But guys aren’t supposed to be emotional so they hide their feelings behind seriousness, crudeness, or dickish behavior. “I really forgive you.”
“Even though I’m an asshole?”
“Are you done being an asshole to me?” I tug on his hair a little harder than necessary.
He dips his head as if to say, I deserved that. “I was done with that a long time ago. Right after our first kiss. I haven’t even looked at a single other girl since I met you, Ella.”
“Good. And if you treat me like the goddess I am and don’t cheat on me, then yes, I’m cool with this.”
“I can be a handful.”
Meaning he loves too deeply and he’s afraid I’m going to bug out on him again—like I did before, like his mom did permanently. “Yeah…but you’re my handful,” I whisper.
His laughter is muffled as his mouth moves along my collarbone, dotting my chest with soft kisses. The soft lace of my bra suddenly feels scratchy and rough. I shift restlessly. He moves lower, his chest pushing into the softness of my abdomen, resting against the ache between my legs.
My fingers clutch against his hair, not sure if I want to pull him up to my mouth or push him lower. But Reed has his own plans. He lifts the hem of my shirt, dragging the fabric up much too slowly. Impatient, I grab the bottom and whip it over my head.
He grins. “Have I mentioned how much I like your night gear?”
“It’s comfortable,” I say defensively.
“Mmmhmmm,” he murmurs, but the smug smile stays on his face as he reaches behind his back and tugs his own shirt off.
I forget what smart-ass remark I was going to say and stroke a hand over his chest.
He closes his eyes and shudders. His hands hang at his sides, clenching and unclenching. Waiting for me? I like this—that he’s on my leash until I tell him to go.
“Touch me,” I murmur.
Hi
s eyes snap open and the heat in them makes me gasp. He pushes me backward and attacks my yoga pants as if they’ve personally offended him. I lift my hips and push the spandex down my legs because I don’t want anything between us either. I want all of him pressed against me.
His fingers reach behind and release the clasp of my bra. Then his mouth covers me, and my whole body starts to tremble. When he kisses my nipple, I make a choked, desperate sound and dig my fingers into his shoulders.
I was wrong. His touch doesn’t soothe. It makes me wilder, hotter, more out of control than I’ve ever been. And the lower he moves, the hotter I get.
“Reed,” I moan, my head thrown back.
“Shhh,” he says. “Let me.”
Let him what? Move down until his shoulders are pushing me more open than I’d ever thought would be okay? Until his mouth is right there and his tongue is doing the most amazing things to that one throbbing spot? Let him touch me in ways I once thought would be awkward and uncomfortable?
He groans out his own delight as I let him work me into a mindless mess. My back arches and my toes curl and I grip the sheets as a rush of pure bliss rushes through me.
Eventually he rises, leaving me shaking and gasping. He lies down on his side next to me, and I don’t miss the tent situation in his boxers.
Reed grins when he catches me staring. “Just ignore it. It’ll go away soon.”
I slide closer. “Why would we want to ignore it?”
He tenses when I put my hand over him. “I wanted tonight to be about you,” he protests, but his eyes are fiery as my fingers slide inside his boxers.
“Well, I want it to be about us,” I whisper.
He feels so good in my hand, and I can tell by his heavy eyelids and ragged breathing that he’s enjoying every second of this.
“Ella…” He pushes his hips forward. “Fuck. Faster.”
Watching his face is the most thrilling thing ever. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are hazy, and when I kiss him, his tongue tangles with mine until we’re both breathless.
The throbbing between my legs starts up again and Reed seems to sense it, because his fingers find me and then we’re frantically trying to drive each other wild. And it works. I clutch him tighter, because if I’m going to lose it, I’m taking him with me. His mouth is on mine and we move in perfect sync until I’m lost, drowning in a state of blissful happiness.
25
“Have you seen Reed?” Callum asks someone in the hall.
The sound of his voice so close to my door jerks me upright. A heavy arm clotheslines me, sending me straight back to the mattress.
“Probably went to football practice,” Easton replies.
“Huh, it’s early. Shouldn’t you be at practice, too?”
“Trying to, but someone’s grilling me about my brother’s whereabouts,” is Easton’s snarky response.
Callum grunts or laughs or huffs a breath. I can’t really tell. I shake Reed’s shoulder until his eyes snap open.
“It’s your dad,” I hiss.
He shuts his eyes in response and rubs his cheek against my hand.
Callum speaks up again. “I got a call from Franklin Auto Body saying Reed brought in a car, but I see his Rover out there. Ella’s car is missing. She hasn’t run off again, has she?” There’s a strained note in his voice. I wonder if I upset him over the money talk. Or maybe he thinks he upset me and that’s why he’s worried I might’ve run.
“Nah, Ella’s car had an unfortunate honey accident and she was too embarrassed to tell you. Reed took it in for her.”
“Honey accident?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it, Dad,” Easton says, and then their footsteps fade down the hall.
I glance at the clock, which tells me I need to get moving if I want to make it to the bakery on time. Lucy gave me a second chance, and there’s no way I’m blowing it again. I crawl out from under Reed’s possessive arm and realize I’m in my underwear.
Walking around barely dressed in front of Reed is somehow more awkward than taking my clothes off for a bunch of strangers. I find his discarded T-shirt still clinging to the edge of the bed and quickly slip it on.
Reed rolls onto his back and tucks his hands under his head. He watches with intent interest as I buzz around the room getting ready.
“You didn’t need to cover up for me,” he drawls.
“I didn’t cover up for you. I covered up for me.”
He laughs, a low, sexy, gravelly thing. “You still have your V-card, little Miss Innocent.”
“I don’t feel very innocent,” I mutter.
“You don’t look it either.”
I duck in front of the wide mirror that hangs over my desk. My hair is crazy wild. It looks like a family of forest animals took up residence in it. “Oh my God! Is this what sex hair really looks like?” Though is it still considered sex hair when you didn’t have sex?
Behind me, Reed rises from the bed, looking way too good at this time of the morning. He brushes aside some of my sex hair and presses a hot kiss against my neck.
“You look gorgeous and hot and if I stay in here any longer, your virginity will be on the floor somewhere next to yesterday’s panties.”
Then he gives my butt a hard slap and saunters out of my room wearing only his boxers. Thankfully, he isn’t greeted with any horrified exclamations from Callum.
With Reed gone, I dunk my hair under the sink, throw on a pair of jeans, sneakers, and a rather smutty black-lace top that I used to wear at a truck stop where I worked before Callum found me.
Reed walks by my room as I step out. He stops, runs his eyes over my body, and then holds up a finger. “Hold it right there.”
I don’t stay, because as I’ve told Reed a million times before, I’m not a dog.
I follow him to his room, where I find him rifling around in his closet. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for a uniform.”
I roll my eyes. “There’s no uniforms on Fridays.”
Friday is the one day we’re allowed to break out our non-school-issued wardrobes, though Headmaster Beringer seems to prefer everyone wearing something to support the football team on game day.
“Doesn’t mean you should be wearing something that will cause a riot at school.” Reed emerges with a button-down shirt in white with tiny blue checks. “Don’t suppose you’d wear my jersey, would you?”
I make a face. I’m not ready to declare to the world that I’m back together with Reed Royal. I already have enough shit to deal with at school and I’m not sure how this is going to complicate things.
Reed sighs but doesn’t argue.
I let him push my arms into the shirt and then flap the excess fabric in his face. “How am I supposed to wear this?”
He waves his index finger in a circle. “Do the thing with the sleeves. The roll-up thing. Aren’t boyfriend clothes supposed to be in?”
His use of the word boyfriend has me feeling twenty degrees warmer, but I can’t let Reed know how easily he affects me or he’ll use it against me all the time. “It’s boyfriend jeans, and fine, but just this once,” I grumble, scrunching up the sleeves so I can actually use my hands at the bakery today without Reed’s cuffs getting in all the flour.
We grab a couple snacks from the kitchen before heading out.
“So what do you want to do this weekend?” Reed asks once we get on the road to the bakery.
“I don’t want to go to an Astor party.” I wrinkle my nose. “And we should do something with Val because Tam’s an asshole and I don’t want her to be alone.”
“There’s a farm that has a big maze and a pumpkin toss we could go to.”
“We? As in you and your brothers we?” I ask hopefully.
“Yeah, all of us. We’ll take our testosterone out on the fruit and then you and I can go make out in the maze.”
“You sound very sure of yourself.”
He smirks. “I have scratches on my back this morning.”
<
br /> “You do not!” I exclaim and then suck in breath. “Do you?” I ask quietly, looking at my nails.
Reed keeps smiling but wisely changes the subject. “How is Val anyway?”
I tuck my hands under my thighs. “Not good. She misses her ex.” I wish she could see how much better off she is without that cheating Tam, but I don’t hand out relationship advice. In the backrooms of strip clubs, more than one friendship is ruined when a woman tries to point out obvious flaws in her friend’s man.
A sudden thought strikes me. Reed is a year older than I am. Next year I’ll still be at Astor Park and he’ll be gone. He once said he wanted to put an ocean between him and Bayview. I know why now, but the thought of him being so far away is gut wrenching.
“Am I going to have to worry about you at college?” I ask nervously.
“No.” He reaches over and places a hand on my knee to give me a reassuring squeeze. “Val’s man wants to try a bunch of different stuff out, but I’ve already…” He pauses and searches for the right word. “I don’t mean this to sound bad about your dad, but Steve had all the women he wanted in the world and none of that made him happy. I don’t need to sleep around to know what I want.”
His words, gah, his words are like sunshine baking sweetness into every pore of my body. Suddenly I pray that I didn’t make a mistake agreeing to give him another chance. If he hurts me again, I don’t think I’ll survive it.
Reed pulls to a stop outside of the bakery and leans over to curl his hand around the back of my neck. Before I can protest, he plants a hard, possessive kiss against my lips.
“Meet you at the parking lot,” he growls against my mouth.
He doesn’t wait for an answer, but speeds off to practice. I give myself another mental headslap for enjoying his caveman behavior, but I can’t keep the smile off my face as I enter the bakery.
The morning goes by quickly. I thought it would drag while I moped and missed Reed’s company, but instead I’m energized. Maybe that’s what good almost-sex does for a person. I wonder how I’ll feel after the real thing. Like a superhero? Like I could leap tall buildings with one jump and single-handedly hold up falling airplanes in the sky?
