“I didn’t fucking strip you, Brit. I didn’t fucking do anything other than bring you here to make sure you were safe.” His voice deepens and I know I’ve touched a nerve.
“Well that was big of you but what exactly were you rescuing me from?”
“Shane.”
“What? That’s insane. Why the hell would you need to rescue me from him?”
“How much did you drink last night?”
His sudden topic change gives me whiplash. “Uh... a couple of beers and two or three shots.”
“So not enough to be totally out of it?”
“I wouldn’t say so, no. Why?”
“Because when I found you, you couldn’t even open your eyes and Shane was just about to—” He stops himself saying anymore but I don’t miss the clenching of his fists at his sides or the pulsing muscle in his neck.
“He was what?”
“Touching you.”
“Shane? Really?”
“I can only tell you what I walked in on.”
“You’re fucking delusional, do you know that?”
“Maybe, but I couldn’t risk it.”
I really need to get the hell out of here and away from him, but I can’t help myself. “Risk what?”
“Knowing someone else has their hands on what’s mine.”
“Yours?” An unamused laugh falls from my lips.
There isn’t a hint of amusement on Jake’s face as he swings his legs from the bed, stands and moves toward me. The way his stare stays locked on me reminds me of how a lion might stalk their prey.
He doesn’t stop until he’s nose to nose with me. I fight to keep my lips closed as my breathing increases knowing that if my breath smells as bad as it tastes then I’ll probably turn him off in an instant, not that that would necessarily be a bad thing.
His hands land on either side of my head and his own, much fresher breath, brushes over my face as he continues to stare.
When he speaks, it’s so quiet and low that I start to think I imagined it. “Yeah. Mine.”
His head lowers, his lips closing in on mine and I panic.
“You’re fucking delusional, you know that?” I ask once I’ve slipped under his arms and made it to the door.
His shoulders drop when he realises that our time is over. That is until he pulls on the mask that I’m used to. His features harden and I suck in a breath to prepare for what’s going to come next. “You’re right. I have no fucking idea what I was thinking. I should have left you there. Let them pass you around like the little fucking whore you are.”
Tears immediately burn at the back of my throat and climb up toward my eyes. “I hate you,” I scream, my voice cracking with emotion before I run through his trailer to find the door.
The sound of his angry roar and a loud crash behind me makes my steps slow a little, but it’s not enough to make me turn around. Nor is the fact I realise the second I hit the grass beneath his trailer that I don’t have any fucking shoes on.
I run until I get to the trees, then I have to start taking it a little more carefully as I navigate the twigs and stones underfoot.
I just get to the clearing when a snapping twig behind me catches my attention. I prepare to run despite how much it’s going to fucking hurt but I don’t get a chance. A strong arm wraps around my waist and I’m pulled back into a hard body.
His increased breaths tickle my ears and send a shiver down my spine. “I’m sorry, okay?”
Sucking in a large breath, I prepare to turn around and face him. “No. No, it’s not fuck—”
My words are cut off as his lips slam down on mine. I forget all about the state of my mouth as his tongue teases at the seam of my lips and I allow him entry, too keen to experience all he has to give.
Just like before, he’s pent up and angry. One arm stays wrapped around my waist while the other threads into my hair, tilting my head so I’m in the perfect position for him. The length of his body presses against mine, his length pressing into my stomach.
It takes at least a minute or two before reality seeps back in. Lifting my hands, I push against his chest.
“Jake, stop,” I mumble against his lips. He steps back putting his hands up in surrender.
My eyes drop from his and I realise he came chasing after me in just his tight pair of boxer briefs, which quite clearly show exactly what he’s got beneath, and a pair of trainers. As I stare down at the tented fabric, my tongue darts out to wet my bottom lip, my core flooding with heat.
I look back up just in time for his mouth to open. I expect some smug comment about being impressed by his size to fall from his lips so I’m shocked by what I do hear. “Have breakfast with me?”
“What?” His total three-sixty from his attitude as I ran from his trailer totally throws me for a loop.
“Have breakfast with me. It’s still early, your gran won’t be up yet, will she?”
“No, but... I need to shower and…”
“I have a shower. Plus I know the best place to get rid of your hangover.”
I stare into his eyes, waiting for him to tell me that this is a joke, but he doesn’t. He just patiently waits for my answer.
I want to say no. I know it would be the sensible thing to do, but the temptation of food eventually gets the better of me.
“Okay, fine. But the second you turn back into the arsehole you usually are, I’m leaving.”
His lips curl up into a smile that hits me right in the chest. Why do I get the feeling this breakfast is more for him than it is for me? But that’s crazy, after everything, why would he want to spend time with me in public?
Reaching out, he takes my hand in his. The small amount of contact warms me all the way to my toes.
“We’re not going to Aces,” I warn as we emerge from the trees.
“I wasn’t even going to suggest it.”
Everything is wrong about this, yet as I step up into his old trailer hidden at the bottom of the garden, everything feels so right.
“Make yourself comfortable. It’s not much and I’m sure nothing like what you’re used to but it’s all I’ve got.” For the first time since I saw him across the school that very first day, I see a little of his insecurity slip in. By some miracle, I’ve managed to peel away just a corner of the impenetrable mask he always wears. I’m not sure why, or what I did to deserve it but right this moment, the guy I’m seeing in front of me isn’t Thorn, king of Rosewood High, but Jacob, an eighteen-year-old guy who’s just as unsure about life as I am. Maybe we’re not as different as he thinks.
“It’s perfect, thank you.”
“I’ll go and find you a clean towel so you can shower, I’ll be back in a bit.” He goes to leave but stops before he’s out of the kitchen area. “Here. I suspect you need these.” I couldn’t be more grateful for the little packet of painkillers that falls into my lap.
I wait for him to disappear and listen to his crashing around for a few minutes before I get up, pull the fridge open and grab a lukewarm bottle of water. Downing half of it, I throw a couple of pills into my mouth and hope they get to work fast on the pounding at my temples.
Falling back onto the inbuilt sofa, I prop one of the cushions under my head and close my eyes, trying like hell to drag up any memories from last night.
I must doze off because the next thing I know, a droplet of water hits my cheek and runs off into my hairline.
“What the—oh.” I open my eyes to one fine sight. Jake’s standing over me, his hair dripping wet from his shower and only a towel hanging low on his waist.
Biting down on my bottom lip, I try to fight the temptation to reach out and tug it from his body to properly discover what’s hiding beneath.
“Go on, do it,” he taunts.
“Do what?” I ask innocently, looking up at him through my lashes.
Dropping down to his haunches so his head is almost level with mine. “If you think I can’t read your thoughts then you need to think again. How are you feelin
g?”
I take a second to focus on the throbbing in my head and realise that it is actually starting to subside.
“Better, thank you.”
He stares at me for a few more seconds. I start to think he’s going to kiss me again, but right before I’m about to move my head toward him, he stands and walks to the kitchen. “The bathroom’s all yours. I should warn you that the showers not much more than a dribble and it never really gets that hot, but it kinda does the job. I left a new toothbrush on the side for you.”
I cringe knowing that he has firsthand experience of just how disgusting my mouth is right now.
“I won’t be long.”
“Take your time. I’ll make coffee... you like coffee, right?”
“I do.”
“Maybe you’re not so weird after all,” he says as I make my way down to his bedroom.
I didn’t pay much attention to the room before I stormed out earlier, but I saw enough to know that he’s since tidied up and made his bed.
Looking back over my shoulder, I find his naked back as he reaches up into a cupboard and I can’t help trying to figure him out. He clearly makes every effort to hide this part of his life, but why? Why does he live down here alone? Where are his parents?
The million and one questions I have about him swirl around my head as I chase the pathetic spray of water around the cubicle in an attempt to wash the remnants of last night off me.
32
Jake
My body’s practically vibrating with nervous energy as the water running in the bathroom sounds out around the trailer.
I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. All I do know is that she’s currently naked with water running down over her slender curves mere feet away, and I can’t forget the pain that twisted my stomach almost in half when I watched her run away from me earlier. I wasn’t ready for our time together to be over, even if she had no idea it was happening or why she was here. I try to ignore the fact that I’d basically kidnapped her, she had every right to want to run as far away as possible.
I’m sitting on my couch with my elbows resting on my knees and my head hanging between my shoulders when she steps into the kitchen. Glancing up, I find her hair piled on top of her head, one of my t-shirts covering her tiny frame and tied at her waist. Her long ass legs are still on full display in her short white skirt. My eyes damn near pop out of my head.
“I hope you don’t mind, my top smelled of last night.”
“N-no of course not. It... uh... looks better on you than it does on me.”
She smiles shyly before glancing down at the counter. “This mine?”
“Yeah. Is it okay?”
“Do you have any milk?” I think she realizes her mistake the moment the words fall from her lips. “Actually, it’s perfect.”
Lifting the mug, I’m fascinated as she delicately blows across the top and then places her lips to the edge. She sips at the black coffee and does her best to look like she enjoys it but she falls a little far from the mark.
“You don’t have to pretend to make me feel better,” I say, pushing myself from the couch. “Come on, I’ll buy you one you actually want to drink.”
“Thank you.”
It’s still early and the only sounds that can be heard as we both step down from my trailer is the birds up in the trees.
Thankfully, there’s no movement inside the house as we slip past and head out to the main road. I can sense Brit’s stare as we make our way down to the bus stop at the end of the road. If I’ve got my timing right, then it should be here to take us away from this place any minute.
“Wow, Jake Thorn rides the bus.” Her voice is light, she’s clearly only joking but still, my stomach twists and my muscles lock up at her mocking.
“Things aren’t always as they seem, Brit.”
She opens her mouth but soon decides better of it. When she does eventually speak, she changes the subject, but I can see her desperation to figure me out deep in her blue depths. “I’ve got a name, you know.”
“I’m aware.”
I don’t give a reason and thankfully she doesn’t press me for one because the bus comes around the corner.
Tapping my phone to the pad by the driver, I pay the return fare for both of us and we head toward the back of the bus.
“I can’t remember the last time I was on a bus,” she muses, watching the houses pass us by out the window.
“Don’t tell me, you had a Range Rover or two and couldn’t possibly use public transport.”
Her eyes are wide and her chin drops at the bitterness in my tone.
“Actually, I didn’t have a Range Rover—or two. I had a Mini, but I used to get the tube to college every day. Driving in London was... actually, I’m not defending myself to you. You seem to have me all figured out, so I’ll just leave you to it.”
Jesus, even when I’m trying to be nice, I end up putting my fucking foot in it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
She shrugs and turns back to look out the window. I feel like a douchebag for snapping at her, but it’s not an unusual feeling these days.
The rest of the journey is silent. Tension comes from her in waves and I can only imagine that she’s already regretting agreeing to this. She could be at home, sleeping off her hangover instead of sitting here beside me. She only moves when she hears me press the bell, indicating that we’re about to get off.
“I’m only following you because I’m hungry. This place better be good,” she sulks as she follows along beside me until I come to a stop outside a little backstreet diner I found a few years ago.
“It is good. Best pancakes in the state.”
She mumbles something under her breath but I don’t say anything. She’s got every right to be pissed off with me.
I find us a seat in the back and a waitress with about twenty cans of hairspray coating her dreadful hair do and a little red apron comes running over.
“Good mornin’,” she sings way too happily. “What can I get for you both?”
“Two coffees, one black, one with cream, and two chef’s special breakfasts.”
Brit’s eyes drill into me, I ignore them and continue looking up at the waitress who finishes writing our order before looking between the two of us. I’d love to know what’s she’s thinking right now.
“Okay, coming up.”
She turns on her heels and races toward the kitchen.
“I can order my own fucking food, Jake,” Brit fumes, her shoulders tense and her lips twitching in anger.
“I know, but trust me. It’s the best.”
She slumps back against the chair and drops her attention to her nails.
I’m not entirely sure how we went from kissing in the trees to her ignoring my existence, but I do know that it’s all my fault.
33
Amalie
I try to ignore it but his stare burns into the top of my head as I look down at my hands.
Why the hell am I here?
I can only put my stupidity down to whatever it is that still running through my system after last night. I know I didn’t have enough to drink to be so out of it that Jake was able to get me back to his place without me even being aware of it. I think it’s pretty obvious that someone must have spiked my drink.
But who?
The most obvious suspect would be the guy sitting opposite me, but something tells me that this wasn’t his doing. Something deep inside me really wants to believe that he was doing exactly what he said he was, looking after me, protecting me. But again, why? He’s made it clear time and time again that he hates me. So why do it, and why chase me this morning and bring me here?
The waitress returns with our coffees and as much as I want to be frustrated with him ordering for me, I can’t be because I’m just grateful to have something drinkable. What he tried giving me back at his trailer was like treacle. I love my coffee, but it has to have milk.
Lifting the mug to my lips, my eyes mee
t his dark stare and a shudder runs through me. Any signs of the sweet and caring guy who looked after me both last night and this morning have gone. The Jake Thorn I know and... hate, is staring right back at me.
Taking a sip of coffee for courage, I ask the question I’ve been drying to know the answer to since the first time he looked at me.
“What exactly is your issue with me?”
He’s silent for a few seconds and I start to think he’s going to ignore that I’ve even asked a question when his elbows rest on the table and his eyes scan my face.
“It’s not you exactly. You just remind me of someone I wouldn’t piss on if they were on fire.”
Whoa, okay.
Pure hatred fills his eyes and I realise that in reality, he might have let me off easily with the bullshit he’s caused. There’s something dark living inside him and it’s just waiting to explode.
“Who?”
He shakes his head, clearly unwilling to divulge any more details. That’s not going to stop me asking though.
“Okay, so how do I remind you of them?”
“At first, from a distance, I thought you looked like her. But... but now, it’s just what you represent.”
“And what is that exactly?”
“A rich, pretentious, privileged life that’s full of fake, plastic, self-absorbed assholes who think anything important is only skin deep.” It’s not the first time he’s said it, but it’s the first time I really think about it.
“Wow. And that’s the kind of person you think I am?”
“It’s the world you came from.”
“Maybe so, but I was born into that world. I didn’t have a choice about it. But I’ve always had my own opinions of the industry my parents were a part of.”
“Don’t try to tell me that you didn’t love it. All the attention, free designer clothes, being in front of the camera.”
Part of me doesn’t want to defend myself when he seems to have decided that he’s already figured me out. But at the same time, I hate the judgmental look he’s giving me like he knows me, when in reality he doesn’t have a fucking clue. “I couldn’t give a shit about the designer clothes. They’re just clothes. They do the same job whether they cost twenty quid or two-thousand. And not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve never been in front of the camera.”
THORN: A High School Bully Romance (Rosewood Book 1) Page 17
