FIERCE: A High School Enemies to Lovers Romance (Rosewood High Book 4)

by Tracy Lorraine

  Ethan looks in his mirror as we pull out in front of them and shakes his head.

  “I have no idea. Why?”

  “No reason,” I lie, looking back over my shoulder to see if I can get a look at the driver. Sadly, the reflection of the windshield means I can’t see shit other than the sun lowering in the sky.

  Sitting back, I cross my arms and blow out a breath.

  It’s just a coincidence that I keep seeing it, I tell myself. But it doesn’t settle the unease that’s churning in my stomach.

  I try not to look back, knowing that I’ll drive myself crazy, but I do. The truck follows us all the way to the end of my street before it continues forward when Ethan signals to turn. He doesn’t seem bothered after I pointed it out earlier. But why should he? He’s not aware that it’s been following me around like a fucking psycho stalker for the past few days.

  I breathe a little easier knowing that he’s gone as I wave goodbye to Ethan and Rae and slip into the house.

  The sound of Christmas music fills my ears and unlike the past few years, instead of groaning, I actually smile.

  “Hey, sweetie,” Mom says when I poke my head into the living room. “I was hoping you’d be back soon. Want to help me?” she asks, gesturing to the bare tree.

  She’s been slowly decorating the house since I got back from the center, but I’m surprised it’s taken her this long to tackle the tree.

  I was intending on having a shower and starting on my homework, but for once, hanging out with Mom and getting in the festive spirit seems more appealing.

  “Sure,” I say, dropping my purse to the couch and going to join her.

  “Did you have a good day?” she asks as we wrap the fairy lights around the branches.

  “Yes, actually.” I go on to tell her about the squad.

  “You know you probably shouldn’t be cheering now, don’t you?”

  I stare at her for a beat, clearly my expression saying exactly what my words aren’t.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I can’t help worrying.”

  “I know what I’m doing, Mom,” I say, reaching into the box of decorations and pulling an ornament out.

  “Is that why you haven’t told Shane yet, because you know what you’re doing?” She stops what she’s doing and stares at me.

  There was no hiding Shane’s involvement in this whole thing when he turned up over the weekend and then never left.

  “Things are complicated.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  I let out a sigh and sit on the edge of the couch. “The time we spent together before I went away… it was… I thought it was a mistake. I was lonely, he was there. I don’t need to spell that out for you,” I say with a roll of my eyes.

  “But then I found myself in that place again, and I started allowing myself to reflect and consider what I really wanted, and things started to change for me. The time I’d spent with him, albeit short, it was different. He was different.

  “Then I found out about…” I gesture to myself. “And I knew I needed to do something about it. I didn’t for a second think he’d give me the time of day when I got back. I’d dragged him down along with the others I’d hurt. He had every right to throw my attempts at making up for it back in my face. Well, actually he did to start with but…” I trail off, not really needing to go into all of that.

  “By some miracle, he forgave me and he showed me the real him and what life could be like if I just let someone in.

  “He’s…” I pause, thinking of our time together and trying to come up with a word to describe it. “He’s been incredible. Everything I never knew I needed but always wanted. I don’t know,” I say with a shake of my head. “Everything just feels right.”

  Mom looks at me with soft, tear-filled eyes. “Chelsea,” she says, dropping down beside me and taking my hands in hers. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled you’ve found that in him. He’s a really good kid and I don’t think I could have chosen someone better for you if I tried. But,” she says, and I groan. “You need to tell him. The longer this goes on and he doesn’t know the truth, the more it’s going to hurt him. If he’s the kind of guy you think he is, then he’s going to want to know.”

  “What if he’s not that guy?” I ask, terrified of even saying the words aloud.

  “If he’s not, then you don’t need him in your life. You are a strong, fierce, young woman, Chelsea. You don’t need a man. You are more than capable of doing things yourself.”

  “I… I know that. Believe it or not, I’m not actually scared of doing this alone if I have to. I just… I don’t want to. I know what it’s like to come from a broken home, I don’t want that.” I pull my hand from hers and drop it to my belly.

  “You need to trust that he’ll do the right thing. And if that’s not what you want, then you need to make the best of it. You’re going to be an incredible mother, Chelsea. Just don’t waste time and risk Shane not being the kind of dad he could be because he’s too angry to see what’s important.”

  “You’re right.” I nod. “I just don’t know how I’m supposed to tell him.”

  “You’ll figure it out. I have faith in you.”

  We spend the next hour finishing up the tree before Mom offers to make us both hot chocolates. I leave her to it so I can go shower and change.

  The second I walk into the pool house, I can smell him. Disappointment floods me that he’s not here and I pull my cell from my purse. I find a message from him from ten minutes ago.

  Shane: I miss you. What are you doing?

  Chelsea: Putting up decs with Mom. Did everything go okay?

  It shows that he’s read the message, but he doesn’t respond. Dread sits heavy in my stomach that he’s still in the middle of dealing with whatever his dad’s got to be throwing at him.

  With a sigh, I drop down on the edge of my bed and place my cell on my nightstand, hoping that I’ll hear from him again soon.

  Pulling the top drawer open, I lift up the notebooks and scraps of paper to find what I’d hidden beneath.

  I pull my ultrasound pictures out and stare at my little person. Excitement races through me and I press my palm to my stomach, hoping that they know how much I love it already.

  I run my finger over the tiny black and white image, wondering what the baby might look like. If it is going to have dark hair and eyes like me, or light like Shane. If it is going to be a little cheerleader or a football player.

  I know I’ve got so many things to be worried or apprehensive about but excitement is my overriding emotion whenever I think about what the future holds for me.

  Placing my pictures on the nightstand, I push from the bed in favor of stripping off and getting in the shower.

  I intend to pull on a pair of sweats and a hoodie and spend the evening chilling out with Mom and some Christmas movie she’s sure to find on the TV.

  I’m just rinsing the conditioner from my hair when I hear a crash.

  My heart jumps into my throat as I think about the truck with the dark windows and beaming headlights.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, making quick work of finishing up and wrapping a towel around my body, feeling grateful that no one’s walked in here with a knife or anything crazy.

  With my heart almost pounding out of my chest, I poke my head from the bathroom. But there’s no one there.

  “Hello,” I shout out as I tiptoe to the living area. But when I get there, I find it as empty as the bedroom.

  I glance around, looking for something out of place that could have caused the crash, but I find nothing.

  Assuming it was just Mom coming to get something, I walk back to the bedroom. Something on the floor by my bed catches my eye. The second I take a step toward it, I know exactly what it is. My ultrasound pictures.

  I look around again, although I already know there’s no one here but fear skates through me, nonetheless.

  Who just walked in here and saw this?

  Picking up my cell, I pray t
hat there will be a reply from Shane letting me know that he’s still at home.

  Please, please, please, I beg silently as I tap the screen.

  Nothing.

  “Fuck.”

  Dropping the towel to the floor, I make quick work of pulling on some clothes, although with how violently my hands are trembling, I’m not very successful.

  The second I’m dressed, I grab my cell and car keys and run from the pool house.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I need to be somewhere,” I call as I run through the main house.

  “Is everything okay?” she calls back from her position in the kitchen.

  “I hope so.”

  She shouts something back, but I’m already out the door, too far away to make out the words.

  I don’t bother looking around for my stalker, instead I wrench the door open and drop down into the driver’s seat.

  I fly out of the driveway and in seconds, I’m heading for the Dunn house.

  If it was him, there’s a very good chance that he didn’t go straight home.

  Fuck.

  My hands tremble against the wheel and my stomach turns over as I think about him finding out like that.

  He’s going to fucking hate me.

  My mouth waters like I’m about to throw up and for a moment I think I’m going to have to pull over so I can do just that. But after sucking in some deep breaths, it passes and I’m able to continue.

  The second I turn on his street, I’m craning my neck to see if his car is parked in the driveway.

  Please be here. Please be here.

  “Oh my god,” I cry when I get closer and see the back end of his car parked in the driveway.

  Pulling my car to a stop on the street, I rest my head back and close my eyes for a second.

  Maybe there was no one there. Maybe it was just my imagination and I didn’t put the pictures on the nightstand like I thought.

  I almost turn around and head home, feeling stupid for overreacting. But what if I’m wrong? What if my first instinct was right and he’s in there now hating me because he knows my—our—secret.

  “Shit, shit, shit.”

  Letting out my breath in a long exhale, I push the door open and step out.

  Walking up to the front door, I knock and wait. But nothing happens despite the fact I can hear voices—raised voices—inside. Hearing an argument in full force doesn’t help settle my nerves at all.

  Gripping the door handle, I push down to see if it’ll allow me inside. Surprisingly, it does.

  I silently slip into the house and peer around the kitchen door where the shouting is coming from.

  Inside, I find Maddie and Brett barking at each other, arms flailing around in frustration. Moving before I’m caught, I turn for the stairs and quietly run up.

  I pass the closed bedroom doors until I get to the one I want.

  Okay, here goes nothing.

  I push it open and step inside, but the room is empty.

  My heart rate increases once more as I hesitantly take a step inside and look around.

  I relax the second the sound of running water hits my ears and I turn toward Shane’s bathroom.

  Steam billows out from the adjoining room and a smile pulls at my lips, knowing that I’m going to find him naked behind that door. Things are definitely turning out better than I was expecting.

  Placing my cell and keys on the dresser, I make my way over.

  The heat hits me the second I step into the room. It’s clear he’s been in here for some time. Everything is steamed up and I can barely see him behind the glass door.

  He’s standing with his face tipped up to the water, totally still.

  I make the most of my few minutes to rake my eyes down his sculpted body. He’s not as bulky as some of the other guys on the team, but he’s no less cut.

  My mouth waters as I think about stripping naked and joining him. About running my hands over his smooth, taut skin.

  I trail my eyes back up, enjoying my view. As if he knows I’m here, when I get to his chin, his head drops and our eyes connect.

  As his eyes widen in shock, something crackles between us.

  His lips part in surprise before a smile tugs at one corner.

  Reaching out, he cuts off the water and steps out from behind the screen.

  His eyes drop from mine to take in my body and my temperature soars.

  “Fuck,” is all he says before he closes the space between us and finds my lips.

  His hands grip my ass as he lifts me and places me on the counter. My knees part and he steps between them, soaking me with his wet body.

  His kiss is bruising as he slides his fingers into my still wet hair so he can tilt my face to just the right angle. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, tangling with my own as he claims me.

  My hands run down his back, my nails scratching lightly until I find his ass and squeeze. It presses us closer together, his hard cock teasing at my core.

  Heat floods me at the thought of him taking me here like this.

  “Shane,” I moan when he rips his lips from mine in favor of kissing down my neck.

  His teeth graze as he kisses and sucks the sensitive skin into his mouth.

  His hand finds its way under my shirt and he groans when he finds me bare beneath. His hot touch is a hint of a reminder of the panic I felt as I dressed and left the pool house.

  But all that floats away when he pinches my nipple so hard I swear it has me on the edge of release.

  “Shane, I need you.”

  “Fuck, Chels.”

  Gripping the hem of my shirt, he rips it over my head, throwing it haphazardly behind him somewhere. He continues kissing down to the swell of my breasts as he pushes my already high skirt up my thighs so it’s around my waist.

  He makes quick work of ripping the sides of my panties so they fall from my body before pulling me to the edge of the counter.

  He’s in a frenzy of need, but right before he pushes inside me, he rests his forehead against mine and looks into my eyes.

  My breath catches at the emotions staring back at me. I can’t decipher most of them, but one thing I do know. He needs this right now.

  “Fuck me,” I demand and he surges forward.

  A garbled cry falls from my lips as he fills me in one swift move.

  Thankfully, he stills for a beat to allow me to adjust before he pulls out, shifts me forward a little more and thrusts back in.

  “Oh god.”

  I lean back on my palms and watch where we connect.

  So. Fucking. Hot.

  “Chelsea,” he groans, forcing me to look up at him.

  His lids are heavy, he’s desperate to close them, to allow the pleasure to take him away from whatever it is that’s causing the frown lines to crease his forehead.

  “I’m here. Take what you need.”

  His fingers dig into my hips with a painful grip as he pulls out.

  “How did you know?” His voice is so low that I almost don’t make out the words.

  “Know what?”

  “That I needed you. Fuuuuck.”

  He hits me so deep that I lose all train of thought as he slams into me over and over, building me up for one incredible fall.

  “Shane. Fuck. Fuck.” My head falls back as he keeps going.

  The only thing that can be heard is that of our heavy breathing and our skin connecting. The scent of his shower gel gives way to the smell of sex as the heat of the room has our skin slick with sweat.

  “Lips. Chelsea. Need your lips.”

  Dragging my head up, I find him staring at me. His eyes almost black with his need. Sitting up, I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and crash my lips to his.

  The new angle is mind-blowing and in only seconds I am racing toward my release.

  Our kiss is messy as we try to get as much of each other as we can but soon our need for air as we both fall over the edge halts our movements.

  “Oh fuuuuuck,” he grates out as his
cock twitches violently inside me.

  Dropping my head to his shoulder, I fight to catch my breath, but he doesn’t let up.

  With his fingers once again in my hair, he pulls my head back and finds my lips.

  He kisses me like it might be the last chance he gets. It’s wet, dirty, and full of emotion. It’s like he’s trying to tell me just how he feels, how desperate he is without saying the actual words. I accept all of it because the feeling is most definitely mutual. I may have told Mom earlier that I know what I’m doing. But the truth of it is that I have no fucking idea. I’m on the cusp of something so life-changing that I can’t really even begin to comprehend what my future looks like. But being with Shane like this. All of it floats away and I know he needs this just as much as I do right now.

  Lifting me into his arms, I wrap my legs around his waist, and he carries me into his bedroom before lowering me to the bed.

  He stands back up and stares down at me. His chest heaves as droplets continue to fall from his hair and run down his defined muscles. His cock is hard once again and twitches under my stare.

  “How’d you know?” he asks, repeating his question from earlier. “How’d you know I needed you?”

  I bite down on my bottom lip, unsure of how to answer that question.

  “D-did you come to the pool house tonight?” His brows pull together at my sudden change of topic.

  “What? No, I was here. Wishing I was with you.”

  I can’t fight the smile that spreads across my lips.

  “Is everything okay?” he asks, clearly sensing that something is off with me.

  “Y-yeah.” I should come clean. I should tell him everything now.

  I open my mouth to say something, anything, but at the same time, he falls on top of me and takes advantage of my parted lips.

  “I wanted to come to you. But you were hanging with your mom. Fuck, Chels.”

  “What happened with your dad?”

  “Normal bullshit. I’m not good enough. Will never make it. Need to decide which team I want to play for. He just won’t fucking listen.”

  “Shane,” I say, placing my palm on his rough cheek.