“I’m not telling you because you probably know every single detail about his life and I don’t want secondhand gossip.”
Gran gasps, placing her hand over her heart like I’ve wounded her. “I’ll have you know, young lady, that my knowledge of our town and its occupants is factual. No gossip passes these lips.”
Laughing at her, I pull the plate she passed over toward me. The smell of the melted cheese making my mouth water. “Riiight,” I say, humouring her before groaning in delight when I get my first bite.
“You want my advice?”
“Sure.”
“If you think there’s more to this boy, then you’re probably right. If you think it’s worth discovering, then keep digging but just be aware that what you could find might be ugly. If he’s not worth the pain, then walk away... if you can.”
Gran walks from the room, leaving me with that little nugget of advice. That question rolls around my head for the rest of the day. Can I just walk away? It’s one hundred percent what I should do after the way he’s treated me. But what we should do and what we want to do are often at either end of the spectrum.
Standing in front of my full-length mirror, I brush my hair out before retrying it up and out of my way so I can sleep. The light breeze from my open window causes goosebumps to cover my exposed skin and I quickly dive into bed.
Gran’s got air conditioning throughout the entire house, but I can’t get used to sleeping in it. The Brit in me much prefers the warm breeze coming from the window at night. I know I should shut it, especially after my late night visitor the other night but I can’t bring myself to do it.
Anticipation mixes with Gran’s words from earlier and I’m left tossing and turning for hours, hoping that sleep will claim me. But eventually a noise that I was expecting—hoping—for sounds out around the room.
The crunch of feet against the ground outside has my heart jumping into my throat.
He came.
I lie as still as I can, hoping I look like I’m fast asleep. I missed his visit last time and I’m desperate to know what he’s going to do.
The click of the door opening makes me jump even though I’m expecting it. I fight to keep my breathing steady as he slips inside the room.
“Motherfucker,” he whispers, sounding frustrated. I can only imagine it’s because I didn’t lock my door like I was requested to do.
His footsteps slowly get closer, before he kneels down beside me. His scent surrounds me once again. My heart threatens to thunder out of my chest as I wait for what he’s going to do next.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Brit. You should wake up and send me away for being such a fucking screw up. I wasn’t ashamed to be with you earlier, I just... I fucked up.”
His voice cracks with desperation and I can’t help my eyes flickering open.
He’s left the door curtain open enough that the moon lights him up like he’s under a spotlight. His head’s hanging between his shoulders, he looks as broken as he sounds. And instead of anger filling my veins like it should, I find my fingers twitching at my sides to reach out to touch him.
“I shouldn’t fucking be here. I just needed to know you were safe.”
His head lifts and my breath catches as I wait for his eyes to find mine.
His lips part when he realises that I’m not asleep like he was expecting.
“Fuck, I—shit.” He stands, his hands going to his hair and pulling to the point I think it’s going to come out. “Fuck, I’m…”
He steps toward the door and I panic.
“Jake, wait.” My voice is barely a whisper, but it’s enough to stop him.
He stills but doesn’t lift his gaze from the floor.
“I shouldn’t be here,” he admits, sadly.
“But you’re here anyway.”
Flipping my covers back, I push up onto my elbows and look at him. His shoulders are slumped in defeat, his hands hanging loosely around his hips.
“Jake,” I breathe.
Something in my voice makes him turn, his eyes find mine before they drop down over my scantily clad body.
“Fuck.”
His feet eat up the space between us and in mere seconds his hand is sliding into the back of my hair and his lips find mine.
I sense the change in him as we connect. Gone is the broken boy who just stood before me instead the man kissing me is lost to his need.
His tongue plunges into my mouth and I hungrily suck it deeper. I shouldn’t allow this after what he did today but the second he puts his hands on me, it’s like everything aside from the two of us in this moment exists.
Jake climbs onto my bed, his knees pinning my thighs in place as he continues to kiss me like it’s our first and he can’t get enough.
When we’re both desperate for breath, he pulls back. His eyes are dark and hooded as he stares down at me. My core throbs for more as his fingers tickle over my chest and run along the hem of my tank causing my nipples to pucker behind the fabric.
“Tell me to leave. Tell me that you hate me and that I need to leave.”
His fingers ghost lower and brush over my nipples, making me shudder.
“You’re right, I hate you but—”
I don’t get to tell him that I don’t want him to leave right now because he lowers my vest and pulls my nipple into his hot mouth.
“Oh, fuck.” My hips buck involuntarily but it doesn’t achieve anything as Jake’s still pinning me to the bed. His lips twitch in delight at my reaction.
He moves to the other side, exposing that breast as well so he can do as he likes. He licks, nips, and sucks while I moan and writhe beneath him.
I want to scream at him when he moves up my neck and runs his tongue around the shell of my ear.
“I’m going to make you feel so good, Brit.”
My response is a moan as he starts crawling down my body. He licks at my breasts once again before lifting my tank and kissing down my stomach.
By the time he curls his fingers around the edge of my sleep shorts, they’re soaking, my need for what he’s got to give too much to bear.
“Jake, please.”
“Fuck. Say that again.”
“Jake,” I breathe, his lips landing on my hipbone and trailing toward my center. “Please, I need... ohhh…”
Before I know what’s happening, my shorts are gone and his breath tickles against my most sensitive part.
“So fucking sweet,” he mutters, pushing my thighs wider and licking up the length of me.
“Oh, shit, shit, shit, Jake,” I squeal, forgetting where I am and that we could be heard.
His tongue presses down against my clit before he starts circling, building me higher and higher. My hands alternate between fisting the sheet beneath me and sliding into his hair to keep him in place.
I shamelessly buck against his face, needing everything he has to give to wash away the anger and rejection he caused within me earlier. I’ve no idea if this is an apology of sorts, but right now I really don’t care as pleasure like I’ve never experienced tingles at every single one of my nerve endings.
Lifting his fingers, he circles my entrance while continuing the blissful torture of my clit with his tongue.
“Jake, Jake,” I chant as his fingers plunge deeper. My muscles pull tight as the beginnings of an earth shattering release begin to consume my body. “Yes, yes.”
He continues for a few more seconds before something inside me snaps and I fall into an all-consuming bliss as he continues to lick at me, dragging out every last drop of pleasure.
My chest heaves, my breaths rushing out past my lips as I try to get my heart under control.
Jake sits up, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a shit-eating grin on his face at what he just achieved.
“Do you need to look so smug?”
“Brit, I—”
“Amalie, are you okay?”
“Fuck.” Jake moves faster than I thought possible and flies into position hiding beh
ind the door. His ability to know exactly what to do makes me wonder how many times he’s got caught sneaking into a girl’s bedroom.
A sick feeling bubbles up in my stomach at the idea of him doing what he just did to me to others but I don’t get a chance to linger on it before a light knock sounds out and my bedroom door is pushed open.
I just manage to grab the sheets to cover up before Gran’s head pokes around the door.
I’m lying with one eye cracked open just enough to see what she does. She briefly looks around the room but when she thankfully finds nothing suspicious, she silently closes the door once again and her footsteps head back down the hallway.
Breathing a huge sigh of relief, I watch as Jake appears from the shadows and kneels at my side.
He reaches up and cups my cheek in his warm hand. “I should go.”
As much as I want to say no, I know it’s not the right thing to do. This has already gone too far and we’ve come too close to getting caught.
I nod and his face drops, his mask has gone and I’m once again allowed to see the real boy hiding beneath.
When he stands, my mouth opens to argue but I can’t. He needs to get out of here before Gran comes back or I do something I’m going to really regret. He’s already under my skin, us spending anymore time together right now will only cause me more pain in the long run because it’s not like he’s going to take my hand at school tomorrow and walk around proudly that I’m his.
The thought alone frustrates me. I don’t want to be his, do I?
Silently he backs toward the door. My muscles twitch to reach out for him but I manage to keep them at my sides and allow him to disappear into the darkness, leaving just the taste of his kiss and the fast beating of my heart as evidence he was ever here.
35
Amalie
“Did you sleep well? You look better,” Camila says the second I drop down into her car for our daily drive to school.
“Uh...yeah,” I lie. In reality, it took hours for me to fall asleep after my nocturnal guest left and when the alarm went off this morning, I was far from ready for it. “You think anyone’s forgotten about what happened at the party yet?”
“What, that someone drugged you and you were rescued by none other than Jake Thorn?”
I wince, I really don’t need the reminder of how I ended up on Friday night. “Yeah, that’s it.”
“Shane feels awful, he’s been texting me all weekend seeing as you’re ignoring him. He really didn’t do it.”
I shrug, because although I was adamant that it wasn’t him at the beginning, I don’t really know him. Just look at Jake, I thought he was an arsehole through and through but he keeps proving to me that there is a little nice in there somewhere. Maybe Shane is the opposite.
“I just want to forget it now and not go to another party again for a long time.”
“That might be a problem because Homecoming and Noah’s birthday is this weekend.”
“No one will miss me at homecoming and just tell Noah I’m busy or something.”
“Nope. Not happening. Whether you like it or not you’re a part of this school now, so Homecoming is non negotiable. You can wear that sexy little silver dress, and as for Noah’s party, I’m sure I can convince you.”
I mumble my frustration because sadly, she’s probably right.
As we both walk toward the school, I feel eyes on me. Only they’re not just on me because they flick back and forth between me and Jake where he’s sitting in his usual spot surrounded by his posse.
His gaze follows me and burns a trail across my entire body.
“That’s weird,” Camila comments.
“What is?”
“Jake’s not looking at you like he wants to kill you, he’s looking at you like he wants to—”
“Enough.”
Turning her curious stare on me, her hand lands on my forearm and comes to stand in front of me.
“Did something else happen that you’re not telling me about?”
My cheeks heat and I know I’ve got no chance of hiding the truth.
“Maybe, but it’s not a big deal.”
“Anything that turns your face that color is most definitely a big deal.”
“I’m going to be late for class.”
Glancing at the time on her phone, she groans. “I’m only letting this go because you’re right.”
“Great, see you later,” I call, sidestepping her and marching toward the building for my first lesson of the day.
The morning passes without any drama, it’s almost how school should be, so naturally I’m on high alert waiting for something to happen.
I’m heading toward my locker before my meeting with the guidance counselor when I feel him. Jake’s standing at the other end of the hallway with Chelsea practically hanging off him and Mason and Ethan flanking his sides.
Something crackles between us when our eyes meet, but I refuse to allow anyone else to see it. Dragging my eyes away, I open my locker. A small square of white paper catches my eye. Glancing around me to make sure I’m not being watched, I unfold it.
Same time tonight? J
My breath catches and anger ignites in my belly. Have I just turned into his dirty little secret?
Taking a step back, I go to turn toward where they were just standing but I don’t need to look far to find him because the four of them are right behind me.
“How are you feeling, lightweight?” Chelsea snarls, her fake smile firmly in place.
“I was better before having to look at your face.”
Mason snorts in amusement while Jake stands there with tense shoulders and his face set in his usual mask. Only when I look into his eyes, I see more. My broken boy is still in there.
“Give it a rest, Chelsea,” Jake demands. My eyes almost pop out of my sockets at him defending me in public.
“Don’t tell me you actually like the skank.”
“No.” That one word kills every little bit of hope that was bubbling up that things might be changing. “I just think it’s time we lay off.”
Flinging her hair over her shoulder she mutters a, “whatever,” before waltzing off.
Jake goes to take a step forward but I refuse to allow him time to try to apologise for that. Slamming my locker, I storm past him, shoulder barging Ethan in the process.
“Brit?” Jake calls. I hate that the sound of his voice has butterflies erupting in my belly, but I refuse to turn around and acknowledge him. I’ve got a meeting to get to.
I head toward the library but stop a little short at Miss French’s office. I’ve been putting this meeting off since I started because I knew she’d want to discuss my future, but it’s become obvious all these weeks on that I’m no further forward with what I might do when high school comes to an end.
I knock lightly, hopeful she won’t hear and I can pretend she wasn’t here but I know that’s just wishful thinking when she calls out for me to enter.
“Amalie, it’s so good to meet you at last. You’ve been a little elusive to pin down.”
“Sorry about that.”
“No need to apologize. I understand that thinking about your future after everything you’ve been through is difficult. I just want to help focus your mind and answer any questions you might have. I know the education system here is different from what you’re used to.”
“Yeah, I should be at university right now,” I say with a sigh, dropping down into the chair in front of her desk.
“I know and I really do understand your frustration at seemingly going backward, but I can assure you that this is the right thing to do.”
“I get it, I do. It’s just... frustrating.”
Miss French flips open my file and quickly scans the information she’s got in front of her. “Your grades are looking really good. It seems your teachers are really impressed with your progress.”
“I’ve been working hard, the last thing I need is to be behind before I’ve really started.”
/> “If only all our transfer students thought that way,” she muses. “Anyway. It says in your transfer document that you were going to study photography in college. Is that still your plan?”
I’m silent for a few moments as I consider the answer to the question I knew was coming. “I don’t know.”
“And why’s that?” I’m pretty sure she must know the answer. It seems that she has all my details in that folder so she must know why I’m here.
“I was always inspired by my dad. He was a genius behind the camera and he always said I had it too. I was taking photographs before I could talk apparently, like it was in my blood.”
“And now?”
“I haven’t picked up my camera since they died,” I admit quietly, fighting the lump that’s threatening to block my throat.
“Do you think that’s what he would want? You to give up something you loved.”
“No. never. It’s just... hard.”
“Amalie, I lost my parents at a young age too, so trust me when I say that I know how you feel. It’s the hardest thing you’ll ever have to go through, but you can’t lose sight of what makes you happy, no matter how much the memories might hurt. Although painful, memories are good. They take you back to happier times and ensure that you’ll never forget them. Your dad was a very talented man, I won’t lie and say that I didn’t look both your parents up. They were both very inspirational people, they achieved so much. I know they’d hate for you to give up because of them.”
I wipe at my eyes, trying to clear away the tears that have dropped at her talking about them. One of the things I’ve mostly managed to avoid since moving here is having people talking about them. Other than the few days with the rumours about why I was here, it’s only Gran who brings them up really. It just shows that although I’ve been feeling like I’m coping better, I fear I might just be hiding it instead of properly dealing with it. We’re still waiting for news on the accident and whether it was actually an accident and I think I might be burying how I feel about it all until we get that verdict.
Miss French continues talking, dragging me from my dark thoughts. “If you decide to continue down the photography route then there are so many colleges with great photography programs both in and out of state. Have you thought about if you’d like to move away from here?”
THORN: A High School Bully Romance (Rosewood Book 1) Page 19
