by Rachel Jonas
“Monday.”
Ricky seems okay with that. “Cool. Let the games begin.”
He puts on a tough act, but I can only hope he’s really this strong on the inside. I guess time will tell.
QweenPandora: Did I call it, or did I call it?
What started as just a seemingly innocent pop-up appearance made by SeXyBeAsT at tonight’s game, has turned into a shady rendezvous of sorts. Shout out to the follower who just sent this pic of him headed inside NewGirl’s house.
While we can’t be sure what went on once they were alone, we have our imaginations. Tell me, do you think there’s a scandal brewing in Cypress Pointe?
Let the speculation begin.
Later, Peeps.
—P
Chapter 33
BLUE
Turns out being exposed in Pandora’s last post—although completely unplanned—worked in our favor.
Most commenters are convinced there’s some shady reason behind Ricky being at my house, so West thinks we should use that to our advantage for day one of what Joss has officially dubbed Operation: Heartbreak.
I guess naming these missions is kind of her thing.
To start, I’m supposed to seem disinterested when West shows up at my locker to walk me to first hour. So, spotting him coming down the hall, I put on my game face.
“Hey,” he says sweetly.
To which I respond with a very unimpressed, “Hey.”
I look away and close my locker before we start toward my first class. He puts his arm around me, and I keep my gaze on the ground, not saying another word. When we make it to the door, I barely wave before ditching him to head inside. He lingers there a moment, even after I’ve taken my seat, and this is already killing me. Even though we’re pretending, this is going to hurt us both.
The walk to second-hour is a repeat of the walk to first. I hardly pay him any attention and he plays the role of the doting boyfriend. At the door, I turn with an eye roll, then leave him hanging like before.
Gut-wrenching. This whole thing.
We wash, rinse, and repeat all the way up until lunch, when the real fun is supposed to begin.
West starts out walking with me, but then I make it a point to stay two steps ahead, looking like I’d rather be anyplace but here. Then, when we sit, I say nothing as he and the others carry on as usual. Eventually, his gaze shifts toward me while I pick over my food.
“Fuck it. What the hell is your problem?” he asks, just loud enough for those at the next table to hear and pretend they aren’t ear hustling.
I snap a look toward him and play along, just like we planned. “Nothing, just… I don’t want to talk about it.”
He breathes deep, shaking his head. “You’ve been acting like a bitch all day and I haven’t done shit to you. If anything, I should be the one who’s pissed.”
“Really, you just called me a bitch in front of everyone and you should be pissed?”
I glance around just long enough to confirm that people’s interest in what’s happening at our table is growing.
“You two need a minute?” Sterling asks, looking uncomfortable as West and I start going at it, but we ignore him. After all, he’s playing along right with us.
“I never called you a bitch. I said you’ve been acting like one. There’s a difference.”
“Whatever, West,” I grumble, pushing my food away to fold both arms over my chest like a brat.
“You wouldn’t be mad if you saw some shit about me having Parker over? Just asking. Because if it’s cool for us to hang out alone with exes, I’ve got some calls to make.”
I peer up at him then, feeling water pool in my eyes.
Oh, God. Why are you about to cry? This isn’t part of the plan. And it isn’t even real. Pull it together, woman!
I see it. The moment West starts feeling concerned that he’s taken things too far, hurt my feelings. This isn’t on him, though. Apparently, just the idea of us being at each other’s throats like this rips me apart inside.
I blink a couple times, hoping he gets the hint that I’m okay to keep going.
“Fuck you, West.”
“Oh, fuck me? Sure you wouldn’t rather fuck Ricky?” he snaps back. “Unless, of course, you two already got that out your systems last night.”
I peer up at him again and I swear it’s gotten ten times quieter than a moment ago. Everyone’s tuning in for the spectacle, which is exactly what we need. Someone will get this out to Pandora and she’ll take things from there. By then, Vin will think there’s trouble in paradise and we’ll be that much closer to the last phase of this fiasco—step four, the end.
“I don’t need this shit.” With that, I stand, grab only my bottle of water, and then head for the door.
I’m in knots on the inside and burst through the lunchroom doors, unable to pull my phone from my pocket fast enough. I type as quickly as I can, needing to get rid of all the negative energy, but a text comes through before I’m even able to hit send on my own.
West: I feel like shit. I’m so fucking sorry.
Despite how disgusted I am with having put on that performance, I manage to smile—while hiding around a corner, of course.
Blue: You beat me to the punch. I was just about to apologize.
West: Let’s agree to never do this in real life.
Blue: Deal.
West: Good. Where you headed?
Blue: To sit in my car and pout until lunch ends. Figured it’d be good for optics.
West: You’re probably right. We should start seeing posts soon. I’m off to go punch a locker and look all broody and unstable. People are eating this shit up.
I face away from a small circle of kids who pass by when he draws a laugh out of me.
Blue: Take it from me, punching things is a bad¸BAD idea.
West: Noted. Love you.
Blue: Love you, too. Always.
@QweenPandora: It was the argument heard round the world. Today, lunch came with a bit of entertainment.
A hush fell over the crowd as people witnessed with their own eyes, direct fallout from last night’s drama—a love triangle I believe we all saw coming from a mile away.
A KingMidas, NewGirl, SeXyBeAsT sandwich.
Word on the street is that NewGirl’s been giving KingMidas the cold shoulder since morning. Like he’s the one who got caught sneaking an ex into his place last night. But it doesn’t end there. The tension came to a head today and the pair got caught in a public explosion you had to have been deaf and blind to miss.
After that disaster, I think we’re all wondering the same thing…
What on Earth will happen next?
Stay tuned.
Later, Peeps.
—P
Chapter 34
BLUE
It’s been a week of public silence, punctuated with moments of West and I being as nasty to each other as we could possibly stand, and now we’re back at game day.
Peering out into the stands, the only faces I see are Scar’s, Mike’s, Jules’s, and Ricky’s. West and crew, on the other hand, are nowhere in sight. Staging the breakdown of our relationship has been hell for both of us, but we frequently remind each other that it’s for a good cause. Doing this buys us time, it means my sister is safer for now, and means Detective Roby and Boone’s investigator have a little more time to work.
I’m on edge like I was last week, but I’m also being mindful to not accidently injure anyone this time. We’re ahead by two points with less than a minute on the clock. It’s still anyone’s game, which means it’ll come down to who wants it more.
Sweat pours down my face and I blink it away, focusing on the brunette dribbling the ball in front of me. She’s got determination in her eyes and I know she’s about to try her best to pull out the win for her team. I focus on her waist and not the ball—something Hunter and Ricky taught me years ago. She can move left or right, quickly changing the direction of the ball, but the movement in her waist will give
away her next move.
Works every time.
She fakes left, then dribbles right and I’m on her, not leaving any room for her to pass the ball or get past me. I’m reminded of the day I was forced to play defense on West during gym, and I’m also reminded of punching him in the face right after. Not my best moment, but we made it past that, built something real. Something solid.
Before sadness can bring me down, I focus on the game again, going up into the air with the girl when she makes a shift. A fraction of a second later, my fingertips catch the bottom of the ball, changing its direction, sending it soaring opposite of where she intended.
The crowd goes crazy, and I peer up at the clock, not getting too excited too quickly.
Seventeen seconds left. A lot can happen in seventeen seconds.
Their shooting guard passes the ball in and the point guard swipes it quickly. She runs it down the court and gets ready to make a pass, but I stop her momentum, steal the ball right out of her hands, and toss it toward our basket.
It’s a clean shot.
My teammates don’t waste a second before celebrating, and while I should feel like a million bucks right now, I don’t. I’m all out of positive energy these days, so I slap a few high-fives, then head back to the bench to grab my towel.
I spot Mike and Scar on their feet, applauding the play. He’s really been laying it on thick lately, trying to pretend he’s father of the year, but I’m not buying it. After waving at Jules when she jumps around like a wild woman to get my attention, I turn my back on the crowd and head straight for the locker room.
The team is still buzzing with energy, riding the high from tonight’s win, but I’m simply not feeling it.
I strip down, grab my things for the shower, and try to let all the bad shit go.
Hot water rolls off my skin and I’m in no hurry to leave. This is the first time all day I’ve felt relaxed, felt any kind of relief. The voices go quiet in the background and I have no idea how much time has passed. All I know is I’ve been in here forever and I’m alone now.
My mind wanders and the next thing I know, the moisture on my face isn’t only from the shower. There are tears mingled in with it and I just let them fall. I spend so much time pretending to be strong, letting it all out feels like a weight’s lifting off my shoulders.
Hinges squeal from the other side of the locker room and I think nothing of it. We forget things all the time and rush back in to grab them. I’m convinced that’s what’s happened, until the deep timbre of a male voice has me gasping and spinning on my heels.
“You were on fire tonight,” West says from where he’s leaned against the tiled archway, watching as water streams down my skin in sheets.
His gaze blazes a trail from where they first land on my eyes, then down from my breasts to my piercing. My chest heaves because I needed him here, and then he showed up seemingly out of thin air.
“Where’d you come from?”
He smiles and nods toward the door. “I couldn’t be at the game, so I watched from the second-story track. No one even noticed.”
Clever and sexy.
“Can’t have my girl dominating on the court and I’m not around to see it,” he adds, prompting me to walk over to where he stands and kiss him like my life depends on it. Hell, it sure feels like it does.
He doesn’t mind that I’m soaked and getting water all over his clothes and shoes. Nor does he mind when I undo his belt and lower his zipper. He steps out of his sneakers and socks, then takes off everything else.
“Did you lock us in?” I ask when he hoists me up and my legs encircle his waist.
“Of course,” he groans against my neck, sucking and biting there as he moves us both beneath the running water.
The tile is cool when my back first presses against it, but then I don’t notice so much. It’s been a week since we’ve shared even a hug, which felt as critical as going without water or air.
I was so distracted by being able to feel his flesh against my hands, I didn’t even notice that he managed to grab a condom from his jeans before taking them off. He reaches down to slide it on, then enters me fast and rough.
I lose my breath and he feels so good inside me I can’t even form a meaningful thought. My fingertips dig into his back and I’m already close to coming. His slick chest grazes my nipples in rhythm, and I can’t believe I made it this long without him.
One inked arm holds me in place, while the other stretches beside my head, where his fingers splay against the tile as he fucks me into oblivion.
“Harder,” I whimper against his shoulder, and he meets my demand without hesitation.
More than the physical distance, the emotional gulf between us leaves me feeling so empty, hollow on the inside. Being reduced to phone calls at the end of the day simply isn’t enough, which is why I can hardly control myself now.
“You can’t ever leave me. I’d fucking die,” he pants.
Those breathy words graze my ear and I’m coming undone, wondering how he could think I’d ever even consider it.
“Promise me,” he breathes. “I need to hear you say that shit.”
He slams into me harder, bringing as much pain as there is pleasure.
“I promise.”
He presses his forehead to mine and, staring into his green eyes, I come for him.
My voice carries, echoing off the tiled floor and walls before reverberating right back into my ears. His hips pump faster and, a moment later, he comes and never looks away. He wants me to know I own him—his heart, his body, his soul.
Everything.
He gives it all and I happily accept it.
My feet lower to the water pooling below and I’m no longer a shell of myself. It took his touch to bring me back to life. He asked me to promise him I’d never leave, and I meant it when I gave my word.
I’m in this.
One-hundred percent.
Chapter 35
BLUE
“Hey.”
Closing the back door behind me, I peer up when Mike speaks. He’s wearing an old apron I guess used to be Mom’s—back when she actually cared enough to cook, that is. Still, there isn’t an inch of him that’s not covered in flour.
Instead of speaking, I slide my shoes off and keep heading toward my room.
“Took you a little while to get home,” he says. “Did you make a stop first?”
Clearly, he hasn’t gotten the hint that I don’t feel like talking, so with the hardest eye roll ever, I stop in my tracks. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I’m late because I just fucked my boyfriend in the locker room shower, but I decide against it. Instead, all he gets is a blank stare.
“Well, wherever you were, hopefully you didn’t eat. I just got dinner in the oven. Homemade chicken pot pie, dinner rolls.”
There is such a thing as trying too hard, and he’s definitely tapped into that vein.
“No thanks,” I force out, turning again to head toward my room. Phase two of the plan involves me being spotted with Ricky again, so he’ll be here soon.
“That was a good game you played out there.”
I stop again when Mike starts talking.
Again.
“Thanks.”
“You’ve gotten a lot stronger on defense since the last time I saw you play.”
I nod. “You’d be surprise how much someone improves their game in eight years.”
The snide comment just wiped the smile completely off his face.
Good.
He lowers his head and… damn. Why do I feel guilty being mean to this asshole? He’s been nothing but mean and nasty to me my whole life. He doesn’t just get to waltz back through the door and get a fresh start. I don’t get back all the hard years. I don’t get a redo.
“I know you don’t want to eat, but maybe you can sit in here with me and Scar just this once. This is kind of a celebration dinner,” he adds, chuckling a bit.
Walk away and leave his ass standing he
re looking like an idiot. Don’t fall for whatever game he’s playing.
I look at him—pitiful and hopeful.
“A celebration for what?” I ask, hating that I’m even being minutely cordial.
His smile is back, but it’s far more subdued than before.
“I got the job.”
His announcement makes my stomach twist a bit. Maybe it’s shock or… maybe I’m a little excited for what that could mean for our household. I’ve pulled the weight on my own for so long, I—
No. Don’t get your hopes up. There’s no guarantee he’s planning to take care of business. How many times have you seen him blow an entire paycheck on booze and bullshit?
“Congrats,” I say with a dry grin. It’s all I can muster, and I’m not even certain he deserved that.
“Thanks. So, does that mean you’ll be joining us? I could kind of use the buffer with Scar. She’s a little upset with me for making her delete that damn gossip app last night. Seemed unhealthy how much she’s on that thing,” he adds with a nervous smile.
I glance over at the table he set, at the sink full of dishes he’s preparing to wash. For so long I wanted this—for him to be a dad—but now I’m terrified to give him a chance. Having that taken away twice in a lifetime might be too much for me.
“Pass.”
I don’t have it in me to hear what he’ll say next, to see the disappointed look on his face, so I head to my room and shut the door. I don’t let myself think about possibly having just hurt his feelings, because I have a task to complete. And when Ricky honks his horn outside, I’m able to refocus.
Quickly slipping into a pair of stretch pants and an oversized hoodie, I head out and climb into the blue muscle car that awaits me.
