Beautiful Defiance: Cambridge High Mayhem (Kiss Starter: Cambridge High Book 1)

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Beautiful Defiance: Cambridge High Mayhem (Kiss Starter: Cambridge High Book 1) Page 19

by Ashlyn Mathews


  “I’m yours too. All yours, Seven.”

  I said the words out loud, and I’ll be damned if I ever take them back.

  I am Beautiful Defiance’s guy. No doubt about that. Ever.

  37

  LEIGH

  I didn’t go over to Seven’s and meet his parents. Instead, after we made love, he cleaned me up, held me in his arms, and we talked. We spoke of our dreams. Got to know one another more. I want to help kids. He would like to play football professionally.

  If that dream doesn’t come true, he would like to be a football coach. Someday, we would marry the two, helping kids by offering scholarships based on need, talent, or grades. Why not give the kids choices? We also talked about what a relationship would look like. Trust. Support. Listening. Talking.

  I didn’t tell him of my mom’s plan to divorce my father. Why tell? It would kill off his hope that his parents’ marriage will be okay after talking and making love. My parents did that too. Yet, what did it do for them other than delay the inevitable—my mom leaving my dad for her secret lover?

  “Hey, doing okay?”

  I blink. Seven is looking at me with a concerned expression.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “You were staring off into space. Ready?” He extends his hand to me. I’m sitting on the bleachers, waiting for him to be done with practice.

  I set my hand in his, and he tugs me to my feet. It’s mid-week, and we’re back to our routine, the one we had before Seven decided I was a distraction and needed ditching for a girl who didn’t do it for him.

  When he was cleaning off the blood from me losing my virginity, I almost reconsidered forgiving him so quickly. I should have slammed the door in his face. Stole something else from him, like his letterman jacket. Or burned his collection of expensive sneakers. I would ignore those puppy eyes and how defeated he looked standing in front of my door with his peace offering next to his feet.

  I had this burning need to have him feel what I went through. The crushing hurt and ache in my chest. My longing for his presence. The emptiness inside me knowing he’ll never come through my bedroom window again.

  I opened my mouth, ready to tell him I changed my mind. That I needed a good month away from him. Even that wouldn’t be a guarantee I’d take him back. Except he changed my mind with the tenderness and hope on his pretty face.

  “Would you mind if we plant the roses? Unless you’d rather I take them back. It was dumb of me to think you’d want red and white roses.” He’d gathered me in his arms and kissed the top of my head. “A dozen roses isn’t enough to show you how sorry I am, Leigh.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “I . . . Seven, I love them. Let’s go plant.”

  With the moon and the stars as our witnesses, he used the shovel that was on the ground, leftover from Maddox, and dug two holes.

  “The colors are for you and me.”

  “Which one am I?”

  “White. Pure, beautiful, didn’t have your first kiss until you were eighteen. Red is mine. I’d bleed for you, Leigh.”

  Maybe so, but I would never ask him to hurt for me or fight my battles. Alistair taught me to be independent and stick up for myself.

  “Do you like sitting outside for a change?” Seven’s voice pulls me back to the present.

  “I do.”

  “I’d do you too. I mean, I do like having you sit out here too.”

  Sheepish grin from Seven. My attention hangs on his mouth. So sexy. He’s so hot. Stinking adorable when he gets tongue-tied, which is not often. That boy, minus the f-bombs, can be so eloquent. A romantic too. And he’s my guy. How is it possible a girl with nothing to her name found someone willing to give her her heart’s desires?

  I look at him with everything in my heart. Hope. Excitement. Anticipation. Longing.

  “Seven.” His name edges from my lips in a breathless-like whisper.

  “Babe.”

  He steps into my space. He smells good. Sweat. The cool air. Male. I’m heady with need. He cups my face. Slides his fingers under my hair. Weaves his thick fingers in the strands and pulls me close.

  “You’re beautiful, Leigh. So goddamn beautiful. You’re mighty fine with your arms stretched behind you and your face tipped up to the sun. Seeing you like that, it took everything in me not to run over and kiss you senseless.”

  “Why didn’t you?” I challenge.

  “Coach would’ve reamed me out for distracting the other players. Why, you want me to?”

  My mouth is cotton dry. I run the tip of my tongue over my bottom lip. Suck my bottom lip into my mouth. Seven follows the movements. Groans. Sets his forehead on mine.

  “Leigh, you’re killing me, babe.”

  “Is that so?”

  “So. Fuck,” he murmurs on my mouth.

  I close my eyes and inhale his scent. Relax into his body when his fingers massage my scalp.

  “My dad taught me to defy, but for the right reason.” I open my eyes. His are so dark. Like looking up at the sky on a moonless night.

  His gaze drops to my mouth. “A kiss is a good enough reason. God, Leigh, I’ll defy until the cows come the fuck home just to have all your kisses, babe.”

  “I want that too.”

  “Only with me, baby.”

  “Only you, Seven.”

  Since Seven made it clear I’m his girl, holding my hand and walking me to my classes at the start of the week, the guys who aren’t his loyal teammates, who play other sports like basketball and baseball, aren’t shy with their intense checking out of me. In the hallways. The cafeteria. They are wondering what the appeal is.

  I get it. I’m not the prettiest girl in the school. Or a social butterfly. Or the most fashionable girl. Nor am I rich.

  What does Seven see in me? The guys stare. Ask for my number. Slip me notes asking if I can tutor them too. Seven sees what’s going on, and thank goodness he keeps his temper in check. There are no thrown punches. Or a garage full of expensive cars getting blown up.

  It’s great he’s easing up on the destructive behavior, but his wanting to be with me and showing the world publicly that I’m his girl doesn’t get rid of my doubts.

  What if I’m a temporary fascination? What if everything he told me isn’t genuine? My mother blatantly told my father she loved him, but she’d already given her heart to someone else.

  As though sensing my doubts, Seven kisses me with this gut-wrenching desperation.

  “You’re mine, baby. Always,” he says between our kisses, his palms clasping the sides of my head. “Tell me I’m yours?”

  “You’re mine, Seven.”

  “Always?”

  “Always.”

  Before I can say more or deepen the kiss further, there’s whooping and hollering from behind us. The players have gathered around his truck. The cheerleaders hang back. Hannah gives me a cheesy grin and a double thumbs-up. Ginger is staring at the ground. Poor girl.

  I place my hands on Seven’s chest. “She’s hurting,” I say in a low voice. “Let’s go easy on the PDA, okay?”

  A flash of annoyance on his face. What I’m fast learning is Seven doesn’t take well to policing his actions. If he had his way, he would be kissing and touching me every chance he gets.

  I climb inside his truck. He runs around the truck and gets in, fist bumping Trace and Malice on the way. The guys tip their heads at me and smile. I smile back.

  “Fuck, I am ready for a shower.” He backs up the truck, pulls out of the school parking lot, and gets on the road.

  “Don’t.”

  “Huh?” He looks at me and raises a brow before returning his attention to the road.

  “Don’t shower. I want a taste of you first.”

  His head swivels to me. His eyes are wide. Groaning, he bounces the back of his head on the headrest.

  “Shit, baby, you are dirty.”

  “Dirty for you.”

  He reaches for me. I put my hand in his and interlace our
fingers.

  “Leigh?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Will you go to homecoming with me?”

  Will I? “Yes.” If he wasn’t driving, I would tackle him to the ground and kiss him until his toes curl.

  “Will you be at the game?”

  “Yes. Miles gave me the night off. Said no way will I miss the most important game of the season.”

  A game between Delridge and Cambridge.

  Steering with one hand, Seven turns onto the road that will take us to our places. Instead of making a U-turn and parking alongside the fence, he stops the truck and puts it in park.

  “Come on, Leigh, switch seats.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I’m gonna teach you how to drive.”

  “But I lost the bet,” I sputtered.

  “I didn’t win fair and square, baby. I’d been watching you and knew those sideline shots were your weakness.”

  “Seven Shanahan, to think you took advantage.” I lean in and kiss him. “Thank you for telling me.”

  We switch seats. I shift the truck into drive and take it easy. He loves this truck, and I don’t want to mess things up by crashing his baby.

  “You’re a natural.”

  Beaming, I turn onto the road that goes to his house.

  “Keep going. The road dead ends at the back of the house.”

  “What’s over there?”

  “Nothing but trees.”

  “That’s nice, Seven.”

  “It is. There’s also a field. A great place to lay in the bed of the truck and stargaze.”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  “Will you?”

  “Will I what?” I ask, biting down on my smile.

  “Stargaze with me?”

  “I’d love to.”

  He is such a good guy. A romantic.

  I take the curve slowly. He’s right. There is an open field to our right and nothing but trees to our left and ahead of us. I put the truck in park. We get out, and he picks me up and sits me on the hood.

  “You did great, baby.”

  “I learned from the best.”

  He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “As if.”

  I laugh. “Seven Shanahan, you are stinking adorable.”

  “I am?”

  “You know you are.” I grab him by the collar of his uniform and yank him in for a kiss.

  Mmm, he tastes good. Salty. Sweet. I slip my tongue inside his mouth and deepen the kiss. He groans. I suck on his tongue. Suck his bottom lip into my mouth. Nip on his lip. Tongue the corners of his mouth.

  Needing him closer, I weave my fingers in his hair. The side of my face tingles. A nervous prickle slides up and down my spine. Cupping his face, I break off our kiss and look off to the side. Across the open field, my gaze locks with Sorrow’s dad’s. He’s on the back deck, and he’s holding a shotgun.

  “Seven, we should go.”

  He looks where I’m looking. “Shit. I haven’t seen him out in the open for a long ass time. Whatever he says or does, don’t ever go near his place.”

  I cannot look away from the craze in his eyes.

  “Leigh, did you hear me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Promise?”

  My defiance cost me my parents’ lives. I won’t let any harm come to Sorrow. I’ll listen to Seven’s warning and the worry in his voice.

  “I promise.”

  38

  LEIGH

  What should have been one of my happiest days, a fairy tale come true, crashes and burns by the end of the night.

  On the way to the homecoming dance, dressed in the dress I had crushed hard on, Seven and I argued. Our first fight as a couple.

  “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you’d be sitting on our fucking opponents’ side, Leigh?”

  He doesn’t give me time to answer.

  “Do you know what that looked like to the rest of the school?”

  “Rue is my friend. So is Winslow.”

  Winslow isn’t a football player. He is into dirt biking, and is pretty good from what Rue tells me when he went off to get us drinks and hot dogs from the concession stand.

  “I’m your guy. Your loyalty is to me first.”

  “You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

  “Loyalty isn’t nothing.”

  “Friendship is a part of loyalty,” I say. “They’re my friends.”

  “Are you saying we aren’t friends?”

  “You’re twisting my words,” I grind out.

  We don’t say any more. We’re at the school, and Trace and Malice are waiting for us by the front door with their dates.

  “We’ll talk about this later. Play nice, Leigh.”

  “Is that your way of telling me to fall in line? To smile and be obedient?”

  He shifts in his seat and reaches for my hand. I keep my hands balled in my lap. He leans in, unfurls them, and brings my knuckles to his mouth.

  “All I ask is for you not to mouth off. We won the game, Leigh. Let’s celebrate, yeah?”

  His face softening, he presses his mouth to my knuckles. “I care for you. So much, Defiance. Do this for me, won’t you?”

  What he’s asking for hurts. I’m right. I don’t belong in Seven’s world. My urge to defy is too strong. My will to not be caged runs too deep.

  Look at my mom. She involved herself with a married man and got pregnant. Involved herself with a criminal. Had an affair and fell in love with a police officer from a powerful family. How can someone like Seven, who expects me to “fall in line” and be obedient, not be ashamed or embarrassed when my urge to defy and be disobedient rears its ugly head?

  “Okay,” I mumble, hating myself for giving in.

  I’m also not liking the resentment growing inside me. What right does Seven have for putting limits on who I am? If he wants to be with me, he should accept me for me.

  “Wait for me.”

  Hoping there’s a hidden meaning behind his words, that maybe he’ll redeem himself and stop being a jerk with this talk of loyalty and behaving myself, I do as he asks. Resting bitch face, chill-lax.

  Seven gets out of the truck and hurries around to the passenger-side door. I drink him in with my eyes. Said boyfriend is acting like a grade-A jockhole currently, but I can’t help admiring that his royal gorgeousness is all mine.

  Seven’s hair is gelled up into these delicious spikes, and he is suave in a tux that molds to his body, highlighting the parts of him I love running my hands and my mouth over.

  Which is everywhere. His wide shoulders. Broad chest. Taut abs. Thick thighs. His large package. Remembering how hard he came in my mouth the day of my first driving lesson, how salty he tasted, the heady scent of sweat clinging to his hair and his thickness, my cheeks heat.

  I will never tire of giving Seven oral. He makes me feel so good when he goes down on me, when he pounds into my sex, that I want to give back as much feel goods as he gives me.

  The truck door opens. I slide off the seat and set my hand in his. We forget our fight temporarily and make our way inside the school and to the gym. Trace and Malice trail behind us with their dates. I recognize the girls. They’re cheerleaders. Seven’s court is made up of them and his teammates. They belong. I’m the outsider.

  Pushing the thoughts and my doubts aside, I hand over my coat and my purse to the attendant.

  While I give the attendant my information, Seven stands off to the side and looks me up and down, not being shy. Heat flashes in his eyes, and he scowls. I duck my head and hide my smile.

  Poor guy. He wants me, but after the shit he gave me for being a disloyal girlfriend, he knows he’ll have to kiss up big time before I hop into bed with him again.

  The attendant hands me my ticket, and I give it to Seven. He puts it in his jacket pocket.

  “Where’s your EpiPen?”

  “In my purse.”

  “Hand it over, Leigh. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

  My heart melts. Why am I
having doubts when he cares enough to want to keep me safe? I ask the attendant for my purse. She hands it over. I find my EpiPen and give her back the purse.

  Needing to touch and thank him for thinking of my well-being, I lean into Seven, slide my hand inside his jacket, and slip the EpiPen in the inner pocket. On the toes of my feet, I lock my lips on his. He kisses me back. We break up when the principal taps Seven on the shoulder.

  “You’re the best,” I murmur on his mouth. “My world.”

  His arms wrap around me. His warm breath coasts over my mouth. Ignoring everyone around us, the principal included, Seven’s mouth descends on mine, his answer buried in that kiss. I am his world too.

  After what seems like minutes of a kiss that curls my toes, we pull apart, out of breath. His eyes glaze over with desire. Mine must look like that too.

  For the rest of our time, we mingle and dance. Half-way through the dance, the principal calls Seven onstage to give a speech. He goes up onstage and invites his teammates up there with him. I watch by the refreshment table with a big grin on my face. I cannot stop smiling. He is so handsome, a vision of sexiness and endless energy and enthusiasm.

  “First off, thank you to my teammates for a hell of a win. You guys are the bomb. BAMFs from another mother. I am proud to call you guys my brothers for life.”

  “For life!” they holler.

  “Second, let’s give a round of applause to Ginger and her cheerleaders for supporting us on the sidelines. You girls rock with your sexy-as-fuck moves.”

  The principal lets Seven’s f-bomb slide, and the crowd notices. They whoop and holler their approval.

  “Third, thank you, all of you, for showing up and cheering us on. We couldn’t have done it without you guys. Now, let’s party the rest of the fucking night away!”

  On cue, the music blasts. It’s a fast beat worthy of a mosh pit. My head hurting from barely eating anything—I was a nervous wreck while Eleanor and Hannah fawned over my hair and makeup—I make my way to the bathroom.

  A bloom of disappointment spreads across my chest. Did I expect Seven to include me in his speech? I shouldn’t. I tutored him, but Seven did the work. Still . . . I swallow past the lump in my throat. He could have mentioned his girlfriend.

 

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