His steps were slow and unsteady as he turned and started down the hall, his trembling hands moving to rake through his jet-black hair and forming into fists.
Not more than a dozen feet away, he stopped. Body subtly moving with all that aggression rolling off him and filling the narrow hall before he turned and headed back to me.
Steps hard and fast.
Expression fierce and terrified.
Eyes glassy and shattering my soul.
He stopped a foot away, making sure not to touch me. As if any closer, and what was said about him would be true.
“Beau, don’t let it get in your head. It’s someone being horrible to hurt you.”
“Answer something for me,” he begged in that deep, gravelly tone.
“Anything,” I cried softly.
“Have I ever—”
“No,” I said before he could finish, already knowing where he was going with the question.
The muscles in his jaw shifted as he studied me, and after a shuddering breath, he asked, “Have I ever forced myself on you? Have I ever hurt you?”
“No,” I repeated, my voice cracking with my own grief.
At that, he stepped closer and dipped down to press his forehead to mine. “Savannah, I love you.”
And then he was gone.
Ripping himself away from me and stalking down the hall.
I hurried after him, the ringing bell drowning me out when I asked, “Where are you going?” Grabbing his hand, I tried pulling him to a stop as kids poured out of classes. “Beau, please.”
“Savannah, I need to get out of here.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
He squeezed my hand tighter before slipping his fingers from mine. “Not this time, angel.”
I watched him walk away through the tears filling my eyes until he was out of sight. But throughout covering up the words on his locker, the pep rally, and the next couple of classes, all I could focus on was his pain and self-hatred and humiliation. All I could think of was who would’ve done this to us.
All I could feel was the hurt of Beau needing time alone.
Time without me.
“Hey, Riley.”
I jerked away from the too-close voice and smacked the fingers teasing the bottom of my skirt. “Feel like a trip to the hospital?” I sneered as I slammed my locker shut and sent an icy glare Philip Rowe’s way. “Or how about the morgue?”
He smirked as he leaned a shoulder against the locker next to mine, his stare darting over my body as if the thought didn’t bother him.
As if the entire school didn’t know exactly how afraid Philip was of Beau.
Once his eyes met mine again, he shrugged, then looked around at the other kids passing by, heading to lunch. “Look at that . . . no Beau.” He leaned closer, continuing to move with me even when I stepped back. “No threat to the students here. No threat to little Savannah Riley.”
“He isn’t a threat to me,” I snapped.
“No? I heard a rumor that he hurts you.”
I shoved his shoulder back with as much force as my body was capable of the moment I felt him trailing something up my arm, then felt anger burn in my veins when I saw the big Sharpie in his hand. A tiny piece of red barricade tape was attached to the cap, proudly flaunting what he’d done.
“You bastard.” It was barely a breath, but I felt the words and the hatred for him down to my soul.
Philip took a step closer, a victorious grin crossing his face. “I heard a rumor that he beats you. Uses you. Rapes you.”
He dodged my fist, that smile growing with my rising anger.
“With that swing, you probably don’t stand a chan—” His grunt of pain was quickly met by shocked ohs from surrounding students when my knee met his groin.
As he bent, I moved with him to speak in his ear. “I heard a rumor you made up lies about him and our relationship because you’ll never be as good as Beau at anything in your life, and that kills you. School. Football. Girls . . . you’ll never satisfy anyone the way he satisfies me.”
Philip shifted back so his eyes met mine. All hard steel.
“You’ll never make anyone scream your name the way I scream his when he fucks me.”
His nostrils flared as possession ripped across his pained features. “Remember those words when I have you screaming my name, Riley.”
Disgust rolled up my throat, but I managed to choke it down. “And when Beau finds out all this was you?” I let that linger in the small space between us for a moment. Let the possibilities of what Beau would do swirl in his mind until that hint of fear flashed in his eyes. “I heard a rumor he’s gonna destroy you.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I said breathlessly, stopping my hips’ movements to look for my phone beneath the pile of mine and Beau’s clothes.
A giggle broke free when I leaned over and Beau took the opportunity to switch our positions, rolling us so I was on my back and he was settled between my legs. The sound bouncing around the great room of the plantation house.
Just as empty and haunting and beautiful as it always was when we snuck in. But the cold, dreary days of winter seemed to magnify it all.
My moan cut short when I finally found my cell phone and flipped it open to see my mom’s name on the screen. “Oh God, shh,” I said, slightly frantic as I covered Beau’s mouth with one hand and answered the call with the other. “Mom?”
“Where are you?” It was all a suspicious demand, and although I knew I needed to be convincing, it was really hard when I was there. Beneath Beau Dixon and in his arms. His teeth nipping at my palm and moving down to my wrist as his hips started a slow, steady rhythm that made my eyes roll back.
“I’m—” I swallowed a moan and curled my legs around Beau’s back. “I’m with Madison.”
“And where should you be?” she asked impatiently.
Here.
Right here.
Always.
“Um . . .”
“Are you out of breath?” she asked suddenly. “Why are you out of breath? Why are you breathing so hard, Savannah?”
I squeezed my legs tighter against Beau to stop his movements and tried like hell to think clearly.
“I’m—we’re . . . dancing.” I met Beau’s dark eyes—the wicked amusement there—and fumbled to continue. “We’re rehearsing our numbers for the winter performance.”
My heart pounded in the seconds before my mom responded, an intense mixture of worry and need to continue being loved by Beau.
“Isn’t there a clock where you are?” she finally asked. “The Rowes are already here. Dinner will be ready soon.”
My lips parted and eyes went wide at the reminder.
“Right,” I said, trying to sound apologetic and probably totally failing since I really didn’t want to be present for that dinner. “Sorry. I’m on my way.” I snapped the phone shut without saying goodbye and faced an irritated Beau.
“I hate Philip Rowe,” Beau said as soon as the phone left my hands, having heard my mom.
“I know.”
“I fucking hate him,” he repeated, voice soft and lethal.
Just the mention of the Rowes was enough to change Beau. Tremors rolled through his body as that anger he always fought back tried to push through to the surface.
I slid my fingers into his hair and pulled his face close enough to brush a feather-soft kiss across his lips. “I know.”
“Need to get you home.” When he started moving away, I locked my ankles around his back and pulled him closer, relishing in the heat that flared in his eyes as they darted over my face.
“I need you more right now.”
His large body curled back over mine, his head dipping down but staying just out of reach. “You have people waiting for you.”
“I’m where I’m supposed to be.”
Those eyes locked on mine, saying so much with just a look.
He felt the same. He never wanted to leave. He loved me.
“I can
’t be easy with you right now.”
A scoff sounded in the back of my throat at his familiar warning. “All I want is you, however you are. You always ask what I want . . . how I want it. Every time, all I want is you. Easy. Rough. It doesn’t matter. But when you need it rough, you warn me against it. Like I might suddenly change my mind—like I should. But I’m here, and I want you. I want this every way you or I need it or want it,” I said, ending on a whisper. “Understand?”
From the way his eyebrows had slowly drawn together as I spoke, he didn’t agree. “Right. You know where that side is coming from. What happens the one time you’re not expecting it the way I need it, and I end up hurting you physically? Emotionally? Any fucking way? I can’t do that, Savannah.”
“I see you in a way no one else does,” I reminded him. “I know when you’re struggling. I see the change in you as soon as it happens.” Sitting up, I pressed my mouth to his.
The kiss was hard.
Slow.
And full of everything I felt for him.
The rumble that built in his chest when I bit his lower lip had my belly flooding with heat and my body buzzing with need. And then he was laying me down and taking control of the kiss. His fingers tight on my wrists as he brought my arms over my head and dipped down to make a trail of bites down my neck.
Once he was settled between my thighs again and staring down at me, driving me crazy as he teased me with what was about to come, I said, “Understand? However you need it or want it, I’m already there with you.”
His mouth shifted. Just the smallest twitch of acknowledgment, but the carnal way he was looking at me had my heart pounding out a wild, beautiful rhythm. “Rough then.”
* * *
“I’m here!” I called out as I burst through our front door sometime later, still breathless from all things Beau Dixon and then rushing to dress and sneak back out of the plantation house.
It felt like I’d run all the way home instead of racing through town in my car.
My mom’s voice preceded her from where she and Mrs. Rowe were coming out of the kitchen area. “What took so long? I was getting ready to call you again.”
“Sorry,” I said quickly as I nervously smoothed down my hair and inched toward the living room. “Sorry, Mrs. Rowe. I couldn’t find my keys and then Nicole showed up.”
Mom’s eyes narrowed enough to let me know she was on the line of not believing me. “To where you and Madison were dancing?” She forced a smile that I knew was for Mrs. Rowe’s benefit and said, “I thought Nicole only cheered with you. When did she start dancing?”
“She doesn’t, but she still has a project due with Madison.” I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.
Like I wasn’t about to pass out with fear that my mom would see straight through everything I was feeding her. At least the last part was one hundred percent truth and actually what Madison and Nicole were doing at that moment.
“I’m gonna go change,” I said before she could ask anything else. I gave Mrs. Rowe an apologetic wave as I started for the living room again, my feet getting all tangled up beneath me and a gasp ripping free when another Rowe stepped into the room behind them.
“Peter!”
He’d barely gotten a greeting out before I barreled into Philip’s older brother, hugging him tight as he struggled to keep us upright. His voice all a familiar tease as he said, “Hey there, Anna.”
I took a step back and feigned annoyance at the back-and-forth we’d done since long before I’d ever moved to Texas. “It’s Savannah.”
“Hannah?”
I scrunched my face up and stuck my tongue out for good measure before a soft laugh broke free. “Can’t believe you’re here. It’s been so long.”
His brows lifted in an I know kind of look as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure our moms had left. When he continued, his voice was just loud enough to be heard. “And I can’t believe you think anyone’s gonna buy that.” At my confusion, he said, “Dancing, my ass.” He glanced down for just a second, his mouth forming a tight line as he struggled not to laugh. “Your shirt is inside out and backward. You smell like a guy. And your hair is a wreck.”
“Don’t be rude,” I hissed even as another laugh left me.
“I’m not the one who tried to ditch out on dinner to get laid.”
I murmured a curse and looked behind him to make sure no one was close enough to hear him. “I’m here, aren’t I? Besides, you know I’d ditch out on anything for him.”
“I know.” He playfully rolled his eyes, then jerked his chin to the side. “Go change before someone else notices.”
“So bossy,” I muttered even as I turned, but I abruptly stopped when I found Philip there, smirking like he was in on some secret that I didn’t want to know.
“Savannah.”
I hated the way he said my name. Intimate. Passionate. Like he knew me in ways he never would.
“Go fuck yourself,” I mumbled as I wove around him.
Peter’s loud laugh was the only response as I finally darted into the living room and up the stairs to my room.
And oh my God, Peter was right.
My shirt was inside out and backward, and I did look like I’d just finished having sex.
Either my mom was going to start screaming at me the instant the Rowes left, or she was refusing to acknowledge what was happening in my world. Because we all knew I didn’t look like this after dancing.
Once I was changed and looked a little more Savannah-like again, I hurried down the stairs and came face to face with the younger Rowe.
“I hate you.”
He smiled in response. “You keep saying that, but you wanna know what I think?”
I snorted and started around him. “No.”
“I think you’re afraid to admit that you want me.”
I pretended to gag. “We’re supposed to eat soon. If you could stop, I’d appreciate it.”
“You know—”
I stopped but didn’t face him. “Beau’s right next door, and he’s just itchin’ for a reason to come over since he knows you’re here.” When Philip didn’t respond, I felt a smile cross my face. “That’s what I thought.”
But I’d only made it a couple feet before he grabbed my arm and turned me toward him. “One of these days—”
“Let go,” I demanded and tried to yank my arm free, but he tightened his grip.
“One of these days,” he repeated, getting in my face, “you’re not gonna have that psycho to hide behind. One of these days, you’re gonna have to face the world without unleashing that disaster on anyone you don’t wanna have to deal with.”
“If you don’t let go of me, I’ll gladly remind you that I have no problem dealing with cowards like you on my own.”
“What?” he goaded as his fingers curled even tighter. “I thought you liked guys who take what they want and give a little pain while they do it.”
“Beau would never touch me without my permission,” I said through gritted teeth. “And he would never grab me like an insecure little shit who isn’t getting his way.” I shoved my free palm into his chest and snatched my arm from his grasp just as my mom’s voice rang through the house.
“Dinner’s just about ready!”
I rolled my shoulder back to shift away from Philip when he fell into step beside me and hissed under my breath, “Touch me again, the next time you eat will be when I shove your balls down your throat.”
“You’re so passionate, Savannah,” he murmured. “I love it.”
“I hate you,” I snapped back as I veered away when we entered the kitchen and took solace near Peter. “I hate your brother.”
He scoffed as he set his drink on the counter behind him. “What else is new?”
“I missed you?” I teased, making it sound like a question and choking back a laugh when he elbowed my side.
“Brat.”
I sighed as some of the anger started easing from my body just being near Peter. H
e’d always been one of my favorite people, the brother I never had until I met the Dixon boys and became surrounded by them.
“Seriously, though. You’ve been gone, what . . . two and a half years now?” I thought for a second, making sure I had my dates correct. “I thought you would’ve come back for the holidays—or at least summers.”
A soft grunt sounded from him as he picked up his drink again. But he didn’t respond or take a sip.
When I finally looked at him, he was just staring at the contents of his glass. “Peter?”
He shrugged and forced a smile. “Not everyone loves Amber the way you do, Savannah.”
I felt the corners of my mouth tug down at the weight he seemed to be holding on his shoulders. So different from just seconds before, even. “But you must be liking school then, right?”
“About that . . .” His stare darted around the kitchen to where our moms were finishing putting everything out, his voice dropping low when he continued. “I’m dropping out.”
Shock punched from me. “What?”
“I just enlisted in the Navy.”
Words failed me. Instead of responding in any way, I stood there, unable to figure out if he was joking.
Peter was at Columbia, studying to be an architect.
His parents told everyone in town pretty much every day—followed closely by the news that Philip was going to Yale for pre-law. Their pride in their children was widely known, just as Peter’s dream of being an architect had always been known. At least by us.
“Game face, Anna-Hannah,” Peter whispered.
I tried to school my features and kept my voice as soft as his. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m miserable,” he explained. “Honest to God, miserable. Here . . . there. I hate everything about what I’m doing. I wanna do something that means something to me.”
I nodded, the action probably going on longer than necessary as I absorbed what he was saying. “Well, then, you should.”
“Yeah?”
“Absolutely,” I said more assuredly. “Why should you be miserable?”
He gave a grateful smile and reached out to ruffle my hair, softly laughing when I smacked his hand away. “I knew you’d be the only one on my side.”
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