Like Gravity: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Redwood High Book 1)

by Rachel Leigh

  I continue to draw, shaping his perfect jaw line and taking note of the small scar on his chin. Each stroke of the pencil making me more aware of the small details of his body. Each line, each stray hair that falls purposely out of place. Each skin fold and mark that has a story behind it. Did he fall off his bike as a kid and bump his chin? Did he get in a fight? The small mole on his right shoulder, the hole in his ear tells me he had them pierced at one time. Why did he take them out? I suddenly find myself wanting to know more—wanting to know everything.

  “Take a picture and send it to me.”

  Still as a statue, he speaks without moving. “Am I allowed to move now?” He laughs.

  “Quickly.” I hiss in a teasing tone.

  Three seconds later, the image pops up on my phone. I set my notepad down and take a closer look at the hourglass. The bottom half holds a small skull, and the top, a broken heart. Branches slither through it and around the edges. It’s beautiful.

  “Life and death,” he says. “Two things that are inevitable.”

  “Pain. Also inevitable.”

  “Pain we can control, death we cannot.”

  “How do you figure?” I retort, brushing the pencil gently against the paper as I outline his shoulders.

  “If we don’t allow ourselves to attach to someone or something then we never know what it’s like to lose it. Therefore, we don’t feel the pain of the loss.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir. Hence, my standoffish nature.”

  “Standoffish nature? Is that what you call it?” He laughs so hard that I can hear him across the yard, echoing through my phone.

  “First of all, quit moving. Second of all, I happen to be a very likeable person... when I want to be.”

  “Oh yeah, what day of the month is that? Pencil me in.”

  I watch as his body twitches, and I know he’s fighting the urge to look at me, begging to see my reaction. He enjoys trying to get under my skin far too much. I sort of enjoy letting him.

  “We do have a project to finish, don’t we?” I press my lips together and curl them into a smile.

  “That we do. Monday it is.”

  I’ll allow him this one moment of thinking that he’s calling the shots. He deserves it.

  “Shouldn’t we be about done with this thing? All we have to do is some research and write up a presentation. We spent an entire Saturday night talking about it. Homework on a Saturday,” I huff, “Who does that?”

  “We did that and you loved every minute of it.” His lips curl at the seams, and without hesitation, mine follow suit.

  I glance down at the paper in my hand, an alluring image of a boy who I want to know. One with purpose, heart, and life. Three things I crave to feel inside myself but fight when they peak.

  When I look up, our eyes catch, and I wonder how long he’s been watching me, examining me, trying to figure me out. I know that’s what he’s doing. He thinks he can get inside and fix me. Little does he know, I’m unmendable. A permanent display of brokenness.

  I catch myself biting the corner of my lip as we stare across at each other. Jasper arches his eyebrow and sends butterflies fluttering through my stomach. I shake my head at myself and break the gaze, smiling as I look down at my notebook.

  One last finishing touch as he continues to watch me in silence.

  I close my notebook. “Finished.”

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” He stands up. “Let’s see it.”

  “Nope.” I close it and toss it on the dresser. Just as I’m about to speak, the slamming of the front door startles me. Loud voices follow the thud and my heart drops when It’s made clear that the sudden display of affection between my parents was too good to be true.

  “What’s that?” Jasper asks, standing up, bracing himself with his hands pressed against the window frame.

  “It’s nothing. I have to go.” I close the window, leaving the curtains open. I rush downstairs. I stop at the top of the stairway and watch silently as my parents lash out at each other. Dad is drunk again. Mom is crying for attention in her own unhealthy way. He leans into the oak armoire to brace himself as he screams profanity and harsh comments.

  Suddenly, I am that twelve-year-old girl again, only this time, the tears don’t fall—this time, I walk away.

  I reach the top of the stairs and my feet no longer allow me to move. Out of fear, my knees buckle beneath me, so I lean my back against the cold wall. All of the walls in this house are cold, ironic isn’t it? I close my eyes with my palms pressed firmly against my legs. With a deep breath, I exhale, and my eyes open. I brush away the stray hairs that have fallen against my face and go back into my room as if nothing ever happened. I mean, nothing has. This is just a typical day. For a moment, it felt as though things could be normal, but what a ridiculous thought that was.

  After getting ready for bed, I hit the lights and fall into my bed. I don’t even finish the first thought that comes to my mind, and the next thing I know, I’m back there. Back to the place where my living nightmare started.

  “Dad, slow down. Please. You’re scaring me.”

  “You got your seatbelt on, princess.” He reaches over and tugs at my belt to make sure it’s secure. “You ain’t going nowhere.”

  He finishes off the pint-sized bottle in his hand, taking note to get every last drop.

  “Please, Daddy.”

  “Have a little fun, Blakely. You sound like a goddamn two-year-old.”

  I watch his eyes, just to be sure they’re on the road. His hand moves over to the window and the wind blows my hair in my face. He stretches his arm out to toss the empty bottle. I look in the rear view mirror, then watch in slow motion as the glass shatters against the pavement. Each piece takes a unique shape. I return my eyes to him and the sudden impact on my body is almost too much to bear. “Daddy,” I scream, as the car continues to roll.

  Everything goes black.

  I spring from my pillow and run my fingers through my sweat drenched hair. My heart mimicking the speed of a cantering horse. The room suddenly feels as if it’s closing in. So little space, so little air. I take a deep breath, unable to fill my lungs. I jump out of bed and try again. It’s so thick, so heavy. I can’t breathe.

  I grab my phone from the nightstand.

  Please pick up. Please pick up.

  “Little late for that pizza now, don’t you think?”

  “It’s happening again, Knox.”

  His tone shifts instantly, “I’ll be right there.”

  With my phone in hand, I drop down on the floor with my back against the bed. I tuck my head between my legs and focus on my breathing, which only makes it worse.

  After what feels like hours, but is really only minutes, Knox comes through the door. He sits down next to me and rubs his hand over my back. “Deep breath, long exhale,” he reminds me.

  “I don’t want this to happen again, Knox.” I rest my head on his shoulder and break down. I feel the tears run down my cheeks, tasting them on my lips and watching as they drop onto my arm. “It’s been months. Why is this happening again?”

  “Was he drunk again?”

  I nod, lifting my head, when I sense him pulling away a little. I pull him closer. “Don’t leave.”

  Knox pulls me into him as his fingers lock at my side. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I can’t keep doing this. Every time he lashes out, the nightmares start again. I can’t do it, Knox. I just can’t.”

  “You can, and you will. You’ve gotten through it before. You’ll do it again.” I feel the warmth of his lips press against my forehead.

  Knox tucks me into bed and lays down with me, my head resting on his chest. He talks about biology. The most boring thing he can possibly think of. Just allowing me to hear his voice, to know he’s there.

  I drift off to sleep.

  My safe place. My hiding place. In the arms of my protector.

  My best friend.

  Chapter Thirteen

>   Jasper

  After hitting snooze for the third time, I finally pull myself out of bed to face the school day. I throw on a Las Verdes hoodie, knowing that I’ll probably get some shit for it, and stumble over my own feet while pulling on my black jeans. I brace my fall by grasping onto the window ledge and give a double take when I look into B’s window.

  The fuck…

  One arm is still dangling free from its sleeve, but I stop in my tracks, with my jeans at my ankles. I wipe my eyes and look again. Sure as shit, there is Knox sleeping in her bed—with her. Her arms draped over his chest, and her head nuzzled into his neck. I fucking knew it. I knew there was no way that those two were as close as they are without screwing each other.

  I shouldn’t care. But I do.

  It stings, but even more, I feel rage.

  “Fuck,” I shout, as the palm of my hand meets the windowsill.

  By the looks of it, neither of them has any intention of going to school. They’ll probably lie in bed all day, screwing and laughing at me for falling into her trap of lies. I don’t know what game this girl is playing, but I’m folding before she drags me any further into her world.

  When fourth period rolls around, I keep expecting to see the cozy couple show their faces, but they never do. I should demand answers, but I don’t even feel like I have any place to question this. It’s not like B is my girl. If she were, Knox would be a dead man. I still can’t help but feel betrayed in some sense. It’s not like it’s a secret that B and I have been spending time together. Part of it is for the project, but even more, it’s because we click together. We make sense. At least, I thought we did.

  Walking into the locker room for practice feels a bit like stepping into a cage of hungry birds. Not intimidating in the least and slightly comical when they chirp.

  “If it isn’t Las Verdes’ leftovers,” Kip mumbles under his breath. Not loud enough for the entire team to hear him but loud enough for me to put him in his place.

  “You got a problem?” I lift my chin and inch closer to his face. “You better watch that mouth of yours before I stuff Knox’s dick in it.”

  Kip brushes me away, as I knew he would. Most of these guys are all talk. I’ve dealt with them for years. Not so much the junior class, like Knox, Axel, and Kip, but they will learn fast that Las Verdes is a family and we bleed for one another.

  “Pay no attention to him, Kip. He thinks that just because he took Levi’s spot on the field and stole his girl that he’s the top dog around here.” I swing around when I hear the voice and, sure as shit, there’s Knox.

  I can’t help but laugh. “Thank God he’s injured, he’d drive you straight to the losing board.”

  I don’t even know what the hell this guy is doing here. Last I knew, he was curled up in bed with my vixen of a neighbor.

  “You’ve got some big shoes to fill, and unlucky for us, I don’t think you’re the man for the job.” Knox says as he pulls his practice jersey over his head.

  “Where were you today?” I ask him. Not intentionally trying to change the subject. I know that Levi’s game is no match to mine. I want answers. I need to know what’s going on.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He smirks as he tosses his dirty shirt into his locker. Leaving it open, he begins to walk away. As if he thinks this conversation is over.

  “I asked you where you were today.” I grab his shirt and pull him back. I can feel the anger rising and if I let it get too far, I may regret it.

  “Get your dirty hands off from me.” He jars his shoulder and glares at me.

  I’ve been waiting for a chance to beat this kid’s ass. Dad is always lurking in the back of my brain, keeping me focused on what's important. Right now, this is important. Seeing them in bed together has been nagging at me all day. Eating away at any bit of sanity I have left. B might not be my girlfriend, but my feelings are still the same and there is no way in hell I’m letting this twatwaffle have her.

  “Keep your dirty hands off of Blakely.” I press my palm to his shoulder and push with enough force to send him stumbling a few steps backward.

  “I think you need to keep your hands off of her. Better yet, stay the hell away from her.” He gives me a shove back and takes a step forward, invading my space. The anger rises, and just as I lock and load with my fist ready to release, Dad walks in.

  “Everything ok here, boys?” he asks, stepping between us. He’s no idiot, he knows I can’t stand this guy and he also knows my temper.

  “All good, Dad.” I pat his back with my eyes still on Knox. I can tell he’s fuming, maybe even more than I am. Good, I got under his skin.

  I nudge past him and flash a devious smirk.

  This isn't over.

  I was totally zoned out at practice and played like shit. Got harped on by the guys and basically just made it look like I took Levi’s place because I’m the coach's son, not due to any talent whatsoever. That little shithead Knox purposely screwed me on two different passes. If a war is what he’s looking for, a war is what he will get.

  When I climb into my car, I turn my phone on and toss it in the passenger seat. It vibrates a few times, but I don’t check it until I pull into the driveway at the Brady Bunch house, aka, home.

  When I see that a couple texts are from B, I struggle with whether or not I even want to read them. Is she telling me that her and Knox are together now? I’d rather her just stick a fork in me because I’m done with her games.

  Against my better judgement, I read them.

  B: No school for me today. Not feeling very well. Project tonight?

  Not feeling well. Is that a new euphemism for fucking my best friend?

  B: I’ll bring the wine ;)

  I stuff my phone into the pocket of my jeans and get out of the car. Just as I’m walking to the back passenger door, I see a woman walking in my direction. She can’t be a day over forty, but she dresses as if she’s in high school. She’s wearing a tight yellow v-neck with her tits popping out and a pair of white skinny jeans.

  “Hey there.” She smiles, extending her hand to me. “I’m Blakely’s mom, Anna. You must be Jasper.”

  “Oh hi. Yes, nice to meet you, Mrs. Porter.”

  I can see it now. The resemblance is uncanny. Aside from the obvious face lift and lip injections, B looks just like her mom.

  “Anna, please.” She giggles. “Mrs. Porter is my obnoxious mother-in-law, and I’ll be dead before I am mistaken for that old hag.”

  I nod. “Duly noted.”

  I pull out my phone and thumb through it, just to give myself something to look at. After everything I now know about this lady, the last thing I want is to engage in a friendly conversation with her.

  “I hear you’ve been working on a project with my daughter. How is that going for you? I know that she can be a slacker and I want to be sure she’s doing her part.”

  “So far it’s going well. Thanks for asking.” I look up from my phone momentarily and smile politely.

  “That’s good to hear,” she says, as she begins picking a speck of fuzz from my shirt. “If you ever need anything at all, I’m only a walk away.” Her eyebrows raise and her lips curl at the seams.

  “Thank you. It was nice to meet you, Anna.” I begin to walk away and turn my head, expecting her to be gone. Instead, she stands there watching me.

  B’s mom was totally just hitting on me. I know women, and she wasn’t just offering me a cup of sugar. I walk into the house and turn around one last time to find her still standing there with her arms crossed and a flirtatious smirk on her face. I give her a smile and shut the door.

  Well, that was awkward as hell.

  Dad is still not back from the field, and Val is in the kitchen making dinner. I don’t even bother to engage in small talk. I need to talk to Knox. I have to know what is going on between him and B.

  On my way up the stairs, my phone vibrates in my pocket.

  It’s her.

  B: Why are you ignoring me?

>   Is she kidding me right now? Does she really think that I believe she was home sick? I know that I have no reason to be jealous, but fuck, I am. Seeing her in bed with another man about shredded me.

  Me: Are you still going to pretend you weren’t feeling well?

  B: What are you talking about?

  Me: Why don’t you just screw Knox and then come lie to me some more.

  B: Knox? What does he have to do with any of this?

  Me: I saw you two in bed together. You must think I’m some sort of idiot.

  B: It’s not what you think. Besides, even if it were, I can do whatever I want. You have no claim on me.

  She’s right, I don’t. I shouldn’t even pretend that I do. Damn this girl. Damn her for playing games with me like this.

  I don’t even humor her with a response. I’m sure that’s what she wants. To get a rise out of me. To see that I give a damn.

  I burst through Knox’s door. Not what I think. I know what the hell I saw.

  “What happened with you and B last night?”

  He doesn’t even lift his head from his textbook that his face is stuffed in. “Get the hell out of my room.”

  “Did you fuck her?” I spit out. I have to know.

  “What I do with Blakely is none of your business. And quit calling her B, she has a name.”

  I knew it. He won’t say the words, but he doesn’t have to.

  “I’ll call her whatever I want, baby brother. And for your information, before you crawled in her bed last night, she was calling out my name.” The urge to piss this guy off is almost more than I can handle. I can’t stop. I won’t stop.

  The next thing I know, Knox is on his feet and two inches from my face. “You’ll never be part of this family. Your dad—yes. You—hell no. So don’t ever call me brother again.” His hands meet my chest as he shoves me into his bed.

  Laughter erupts and it’s fucking hilarious that he thinks he stands a chance against me.