You're To Blame: A High School Bully Romance (Haven Saints High)

by Brooke Jordan

  My eyes widened. Fuck, I was in the guys locker room. Wait did he call me his woman? I’m hearing things. The blood was rushing to my head.

  Tate planted me on my ass on a chair in a dark corner.

  He glared down at me. “Sit here. My advice is not to move. They won’t let you leave.”

  He stalked off. Three guys folded their arms, facing forward, blocking me in.

  Laughter bounced off the walls. The guys were foul mouthed pigs. They gossiped like chicks about who’d they bang because they won the game.

  I wasn’t aware how much time had passed. I closed my eyes and laid my head against the wall.

  “All right, guys I got it from here.” He and Stephen slapped hands.

  “Make sure you stop by my party later.”

  “Not sure I’ll be able to make it.” Tate intertwined our fingers and pulled me to my feet.

  He slapped Tate’s chest. “Dude, you are the guest of honor.”

  “We as a team won the game. I’ll try to make it.”

  Stephens eyes fell over me. “Finally, taking care of her? If she shuts you down there are a ton of chicks dying to give it to you later.”

  Tate’s eyes narrowed. “Steve, what the fuck? Don’t be disrespectful in front of Chelse.” He shoved him back.

  “Make up your mind. One minute you hate her. The next minute you’re back in love with her. Honestly, I don’t think you ever fell out of love with her. The other chicks were just smoke screens. Try not to kill each other tonight.” Stephen walked deeper into the locker room.

  “I’m starving,” he said in route to his truck.

  “You’ve driven the G-wagon a lot lately.”

  “Mom never drives it. She rather drive the Porsche.”

  He opened the passenger door, and I slid inside. The second Tate climbed behind the steering wheel and backed out of the parking space, I flipped through the satellite stations.

  “Whoa, wait a minute.” He mashed the break. “I won the game. We beat their asses. Don’t you have something for this winning quarterback.” He leaned closer.

  I pressed my lips against his. “Congratulations, Tate.”

  I attempted to sit back in my seat. Tate gripped my chin and deepened our kiss. My fingers trailed through his hair and our tongues tangled. I pushed back slightly.

  “We need to talk.”

  “And we will.”

  “When? Aren’t you taking me home?”

  “Nope, you’re with me tonight.”

  “Why because of my altercations with the perfect girls?”

  One dimple formed in his cheek as he focused on the road. I hadn’t seen that dimple in years. Something made him very happy tonight.

  I couldn’t help reach out and stroke the dip in his cheek.

  “You’re in a really good mood, Tate. I don’t want to ruin it.”

  “I didn’t think you were coming to the game.”

  “I wasn’t. Matt sat in my living room and wouldn’t leave until I was showered, dressed, and walking out of the door with him. He said he wanted me there to cheer him on.”

  “Nope, I told him to get you to the game.”

  “But you look so angry on the field before the game.”

  “Yeah, I was. I wanted to smash those heart-shaped lips. Then you fucking licked them just to taunt me. Not cool, baby. Before the night is over, my face will be buried between your legs.”

  I closed my thighs firmly. I couldn’t draw attention to the effect he had on me. Fuck I melted like butter in his hands every time.

  “Don’t start those wheels a turning. We aren’t having sex tonight.”

  My chest heaved. His big hand caressed my thigh.

  “You keep defending me, Tate.”

  “That’s what a man does for his woman.”

  My heart raced.

  “Matt told me how you hurt your hand.”

  He withdrew his hand from my lap.

  I pissed him off. To my surprise he swept his hand over my hair.

  “That motherfucker violated you and he’s just supposed to get away with it? His brother’s smug expression set me off. Don’t worry. I’ll find him.”

  “Tate, I don’t want anything to happen to you because of me.”

  “Chelse, I can handle myself.”

  I nodded.

  Tate placed the keys in the Valet’s hand as he exited the truck.

  His hand rested on my back as we walked into the upscale Buckhead Diner. The low-lit chandeliers cast a romantic setting. The hostess led us to a booth and placed menus on the table. Tate sat across from me.

  “Release your hair Chelse.”

  His deep sea-blue eyes roved my features.

  I slid the ponytail holder from my hair, slipping it around my wrist.

  We sat in silence.

  I’d known Tate all my life and for the first time I didn’t know what to say. Then it hit me just as the waiter appeared.

  “May I take your order?” the waiter stood, smiling no pad in hand.

  “Yes, I have a taste for a burger.” Tate smirked at me.

  I glanced over the menu and decided to play his little game. “I have a taste for chicken.”

  “She’ll have parmesan chicken and broccoli.” My cheeks heated.

  “And he’ll have a cheeseburger with one dark green leaf of lettuce, mayo and ketchup. No tomatoes and onions. Also, a side of fries, crispy.”

  His face lit up. “Oh, we’ll also take two colas.”

  The waiter said our orders would be ready in twenty minutes, then disappeared.

  “It’s scary how well we know each other.” His fingers swept across mine.

  The waiter returned with our drinks. We thanked him before he walked away.

  “Tate, I know you said don’t over think this, but I can’t help it.” I dropped my head and retracted my hand from his.

  “We can’t be together, Tate. You know that.”

  His forehead creased. “My brother is dead. So, what I can’t live my life with my woman? You remember, that right? I told him you were my woman.”

  “Yes,” I responded in a small voice.

  “Then you blamed me for the accident. It wasn’t my fault.”

  His eyes darkened and his brow lifted. “No?”

  He ran his fingers through his dark locks. “Doesn’t matter how much I hate you I still deeply love you.”

  “You say you love me.” I gripped my forehead. “But every day you punish me.”

  “You acted like a human being three times since I’ve returned for good.”

  His eyebrows wrinkled. “I know. I’m trying to change that.”

  “Tate, you can’t for-”

  He threw his hand in the air. “Don’t say it.” His eyes met mine.

  “Tonight, I want to celebrate my win with my woman.”

  “So, a truce for one night?”

  He fell against the seat. “Jesus, Chelsea.”

  “Hm. Matt told me how you’ve cock blocked at my old high school.” I folded my arms on the table and my brow arched.

  He snickered. “I need to glue my best friend’s lips shut.”

  The waiter appeared and placed our meals before us. We sat in silence a moment while we ate.

  “I want you front and center at all my games.”

  I ignored his demand. “Still going pro?”

  “Trying. But you know my grandfather’s plans for me.”

  I nodded. “I told you to do what you desire. He’s lived his life.”

  “Mason and I were supposed to run the corporation together.”

  I grabbed his hand. “Tate, you come alive on the field. The light shines bright inside you for the love of the game. I don’t want to see you give that up. I couldn’t pinpoint why you were so happy tonight, but now I know. You played a hell of a game. Every time you threw the football, and it spiraled into Kyles hands and he ran for a touchdown you set up for him. It’s greatness. You’re greatness.”

  He leaned forward. “Baby,
you know me better than anyone. Give me a kiss.”

  I chuckled against his soft lips.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Twenty minutes later, Tate parked the truck in Stephens grand circular driveway.

  “Tate, I don’t want to be here. Your friends still hate me.”

  “Matt doesn’t.” He hopped out of the truck, walked around, and opened my door. I climbed out of the truck. He closed the door, and I froze.

  “Tate, I can’t do this.”

  He stepped closer. Tate lifted my chin with his index finger to meet his gaze. “I’ll straighten them out tonight.”

  My lips kicked up a bit at one end. His lips crushed mine under the night sky. Tate squeezed my waist. My hands splayed his broad chest.

  “You’re keeping an eye on me, again aren’t you?”

  “Yeah. Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to hang with you before the fight.”

  “But the whole trigger thing?”

  “Come on.” He intertwined our fingers. Tate ignored my question.

  We walked into the massive pearl colored atrium.

  Tate wore a custom-made navy T-shirt that read Football captain Forrester across the back and an open mouth cougar in the center on the front. He wore jeans, and I wore jean shorts.

  “We’ll grab a couple of drinks.”

  I nodded.

  The living room was brimming with dancing intoxicated people. Tate motioned a finger in the air. Stephen threw his hands in the air across the dimly lit room.

  He grabbed the mic from the DJ.

  “Kill the music.” Stephen ordered.

  His handsome chiseled almond face lit up. He had long eyelashes and thick brows. His fine brown hair was curly on top. The girls never got enough of his tall muscled frame. His brown eyes drew them in every time.

  “Our football captain is in the house. He led us to another victory. Best quarterback in Haven Saints high history!”

  Tate released our fingers and threw his fists in the air. “Yeah,” he screamed.

  The crowd roared. I clapped and grinned ear to ear. I was invisible next to Tate in the moment. No whispering yet. Doubt they’d question their king. Tate grabbed my hand. He attempted to make his way through the sea of people. Every second, someone spoke to him. Finally, we stepped into the game room. His entire crew was there.

  Shit. My stomach bottomed out. The atmosphere was chill. The guys played pool, darts, and video games. We walked to the bar. They had their own bartender. A plush guys playroom. I peeked across the room. Matt was playing an old school arcade game in the corner.

  “Here.” Tate placed a vodka cranberry in my hand.

  He sipped a bottle of beer, pulling me in the direction of the leather sofa.

  “Everyone listen up.”

  Their eyes fell on Tate.

  “Tonight, there will be no whispering about me and Chelsea. If anyone has questions come to me and ask. She’s with me. There’s no secret we have a love hate relationship. My closest friends in this room know my long history with her. And you also know I will crack someone’s head open over her. So, don’t fucking try me.” He warned. Tate sat on the sofa and tugged me into his lap.

  He nuzzled my neck. “All I want to do is get lost in you tonight, baby.”

  Fuck, he was so intoxicating. Tate gripped my ass and my hand brushed over his shoulder. I was tired of waiting for his tongue to slide inside of me.

  “Tate,” I whispered in his ear.

  “Tate, are you serious?” a whiny voice came into ear shot.

  I glanced up.

  Brittany stood arms crossing her chest. “Are you seriously with her?”

  He reluctantly removed his nose and lips from my neck.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “You rebounded quick don’t you think,” she grimaced.

  “Rebounded from what? We were never in a relationship. I told you that several times, Brittany. I allowed your fit over Veronica.” He shrugged. “Because I just didn’t give a fuck. I could kiss and fuck who ever I want.”

  His words cut through me like a knife.

  “I wasn’t in a relationship.”

  “And now?” her voice was shaky.

  “None of your fucking business,” he bit out. “Enjoy the party.”

  Tate returned to sweeping his soft lips across my neck.

  “I fucking hate you, Chelsea. You returned to Haven and fucked up everything.” She scurried out of the room before I could say a word.

  I placed the cold low-ball glass against my lips, sipping the harsh tart contents.

  Kyle appeared out of nowhere, plopping beside us.

  “What the fuck, dude? Are you back obsessing over this ch-?”

  Tate’s eyes darted to Kyle. “What?”

  “I’m just saying you were fucked up the last time. Every fucking summer after she visits Matt and I have to put you back together again.”

  He spoke to Tate like I was invisible.

  “Kyle, I’m sitting right here.”

  His cold green eyes zeroed in on mine. “You fuck with his head, Chelsea.” He slammed a finger against his temple.

  “Not sure why you are doing this shit to yourself. You’ll remember tomorrow why you hate her. Matt can put you back together again. I’m fucking done.”

  “Good riddance.”

  “Tate, I’m leaving. I will not come between you and your friends.”

  “No, don’t worry about it. Kyle will be fine. He needs time.”

  “Hey, Doll. You’re the talk of the party.” Matt sat on the sofa next to us.

  “Stop telling Chelsea everything I do.”

  “Relax, Tate. I wanted to remind Chelse how crazy you are over her.” He chuckled.

  Tate slammed his fist into Matt’s shoulder.

  “Matt, did you talk to Megan?”

  “Yeah, we spoke to each other.”

  “That’s it?”

  “I asked her out.”

  “And?”

  “She agreed.”

  I grinned. “Good.”

  He tapped Tate’s shoulder. “Play ya in pool.”

  Tate shook his head.

  “We’ll be right across the room,” Matt said.

  “You already told everyone if they have questions to talk to you,” Matt stated.

  “Tate, go. I’ll be fine.”

  He kissed my lips then placed me in the warm spot on the sofa he previously filled.

  The time alone gave me time to think. Tate still wasn’t ready to discuss Mason in detail with me. He also still blamed me.

  “Chelsea, come here.”

  I walked over to the pool table. “Remember when you asked Matt to dig the hole in the backyard, so you could build a well.”

  I placed my hand over my face, laughing. Tate bent over laughing too.

  Matt pointed between us. “That was fucked up.”

  “You ran around in circles screaming get them off of me.”

  “Fuck both of you. Those red ants tried to eat the skin off my arm.”

  “I swear, I had no idea it would be that bad. I thought you would see the ants the second you started digging.”

  “No, you set him up pretty good.”

  “Tate, you helped. You said to place the patches of grass over the spot perfectly.”

  Matt pointed between us. “You two are evil.”

  “I’ll refresh our drinks. He plucked the empty glass out of my hand.” Tate walked over to the bar.

  “Matt, you tricked me.”

  “Yeah so.” He leaned over the table lining up his shot.

  “You would have never come to the game if I told you Tate needed you.”

  He had a good point.

  Tate’s big strong hand slid around my waist. He placed the cold glass of vodka in my hand. His lips melted against the top of my head. I felt every last set of eyes in the room on us except Matt’s. He wasn’t bothered by our closeness. Let Matt tell it I was the only girl for Tate. All the times Brittany sat in Tate’s lap not
one time did he initiate a kiss. It was always her hanging all over him.

  “Where’s your sister?”

  Matt smirked. “Probably plotting to kill you.”

  “Not funny.”

  “I don’t know where she and Catherine ran off to, Rocky.”

  I chuckled.

  “Probably another party. You know there’s three parties happening tonight?”

  “No, I don’t normally hang out.”

  “That needs to change,” Tate said, circling the table looking for the perfect shot.

  “Next month Kyle’s throwing his famous Halloween party. It fucking rocked last year. You’ll be there no matter what,” Matt confirmed.

  He knew it was a strong possibility Tate and I would fall out soon.

  Matt pointed to the corner pocket with his pool stick. “If I make this shot, Tate I win.”

  “Do it already,” Tate sighed.

  Matt sank the ball in the corner pocket. “I declare victory,” he shouted.

  I couldn’t hold back the chuckle that released from my throat.

  “Matt, great game,” I cheered.

  Tate’s heavy hand landed on his shoulder. “You got me this time. I’ll catch you later.”

  Tate grabbed my hand and darted to the door. I waved goodbye to Matt.

  We strolled upstairs. Tate pushed open one of the bedroom doors and we stepped over the threshold. I plopped on the firm queen size bed. Tate locked the door and sat next to me. I sipped my drink. Tate sat his beer bottle on the nightstand.

  His lips slid across my neck. “Oh, Tate.”

  “I love the way my name sounds falling from your lips. Put the drink down.”

  “No, I’ll finish it. And I have a clear head. I know exactly what you are about to do to me. I wanted you to make me come again since the last time you did.” I tossed the harsh contents to the back of my throat, then slammed the glass down on the side table. I kicked off my sneakers.

  Tate sat up straight and reached for the collar of his shirt, tugging it over his head. His perfect muscled abs appeared, begging to be licked. I acted on my need. My tongue slid over his taut nipple. Tate’s fingers dug into my hair.

  “I love you, Chelsea.”

  “Tate, I love you too.”

  I shoved him flush against the bed, straddling him. He whipped my shirt over my head and flung it to the floor. Tate leaned up and unhooked my red satin bra. I hunched allowing it to fall forward. Tate pressed his lips against the faded cuts on my arm. I tried to pull back.