A Crack in Everything (Cracks Book 1)

by L.H. Cosway

  “Hold up a second, you two had sex?” Conor asked.

  “If you ask me, it was obvious,” Amy added, unimpressed. “I mean, look at them. You can practically smell the pheromones.”

  “It’s nobody’s business but ours,” I said. “So, you can all talk about something else.”

  “Great. Now I’m the only one who’s still a virgin,” Conor grumped.

  Sam gasped, his eyes on Dylan. “You were a virgin.”

  Dylan shrugged, like it was no big deal.

  “But how? What about all the Kirstys at school fighting to get into your britches?”

  “Nobody uses the word ‘britches’ anymore,” Amy interjected.

  “Well, I do,” Sam countered, still taken aback. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Like I said, it’s not your business,” I repeated then glanced at Conor. “And don’t worry. You’re not the only virgin among us. Sam’s still as untouched as freshly fallen snow.”

  “Evelyn,” Sam shrieked.

  Conor chuckled. “Yay, now I feel less alone.”

  Sam harrumphed and folded his arms, shooting me an irritable look as he pulled out his phone to check his messages. He proceeded to ignore everyone for the next half hour. I felt a little bad for outing him, but after embarrassing me in front of Dylan, he deserved it.

  I’d just finished my second Coke when I leaned across to look at the screen of his phone. He was so absorbed in his text conversation that he didn’t even notice me reading over his shoulder.

  Shane: Where u at?

  Sam: Having drinks on the roof of The Morgan :-P

  Shane: Living it large, eh? Me 2. I’ve been on the lash since yesterday.

  Sam: Thought you might be on a continual sesh.

  Shane: Why’s that?

  Sam: Because you only ever text me when you’re shitfaced.

  Sam: And haven’t been home in days.

  Sam: And using poor judgement.

  Shane: Fuck you.

  Sam: Bye Shane.

  He turned off his phone and I stiffened. I couldn’t believe he had Shane’s number. And it seemed like they’d been texting regularly.

  “Sam,” I said, and he jumped, emitting a tiny gasp.

  “Were you just reading—?”

  “You’re texting Shane,” I whisper-hissed, and his mouth formed a thin line.

  “If you and Dylan are none of my business, then me and Shane are none of yours.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I mean it, Ev,” he gritted. His jaw was tight so I knew he was serious.

  I stared at him for a long moment, and I couldn’t deny that my feelings were hurt. Things had obviously been transpiring between him and Shane, and I’d been privy to none of it. When he saw my sad expression, he let out a sigh and gave my hand a squeeze.

  “Look, I just turned off my phone. I’m done with him. I’m not gonna be his dirty little secret.”

  I studied him, trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. “Promise?”

  He squeezed my hand tighter. “I promise.”

  “Hey, you lot. How’s everything going up here?” came Yvonne’s voice as she stepped onto the roof. Conor smiled wide when he saw her.

  “Great. Thanks so much for letting us up here,” he said.

  “Oh, no worries. And happy birthday,” she replied as she approached to give him a hug. Yvonne had always been a hugger, but she was unaware of how much the gesture meant to Conor. He looked like all his Christmases had come at once as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave a squeeze.

  When she pulled back, her attention went to the drinks in front of Sam and me. We both had glasses of Coke, but while mine was unsullied, Sam’s was laced with vodka. I think she might’ve suspected as much, but she didn’t comment on it.

  “Well, how are the celebrations going?”

  “Great,” Amy enthused. She was a lot friendlier when she was drunk, and she’d already had a few. “This is an amazing spot. I can’t believe I never knew about it.”

  Yvonne smiled. “It’s a hidden gem all right. Can I get you guys anything? Want any peanuts or scampi fries from down at the bar?”

  “Yes,” I said. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  “Not at all, hon.” She leaned over to give me a quick kiss on the temple. “I’ll be right back. I’m on my break for the next half hour.”

  As soon as she was gone Conor looked around like he was on cloud nine. “She hugged me.”

  “Yep. Better store the memory for tonight’s wet dream,” Amy teased.

  “Nothing you say can ruin this for me, Amy. This is the best birthday ever.”

  “Even better than that time your dad took us bowling?” Dylan asked with a grin.

  “I think this just about trumps that,” Conor said sarcastically just as the door to the roof opened again. I was about to praise Yvonne for her speediness but then saw it wasn’t her.

  It was Shane.

  If you looked up the definition of drunk in the dictionary, you’d find a picture of him.

  Sam immediately stood and hurried over. “What are you doing here?” he asked, frazzled. Shane didn’t answer, but instead grabbed Sam and kissed him right on the mouth. He looked like he was trying to eat his face, if I was being honest.

  “Oh . . . my . . . God,” Amy breathed, slack-jawed.

  “Look at that butt,” Conor added tipsily. She scowled at him, and he apologised. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

  Sam was glued to the spot, too shocked by Shane’s sudden appearance to react right away.

  “Should we . . . do something?” Dylan asked. He and I were the only two not intoxicated at this point.

  “Don’t,” Amy hissed. “I want to see what happens next.”

  “She’s right,” Conor added. “It’s like a soap opera.”

  Finally, Sam gripped Shane’s shoulders and pushed him away. He sucked in a breath and whispered, “You need to leave.” For once in his life, he actually appeared embarrassed.

  “But I wanted to see you,” Shane whined. He didn’t seem like his normal self at all. He was drunk and bleary eyed. Even his voice was less harsh. Maybe this was more of the real Shane than the bully who threw his weight around at school.

  “Well, I don’t want to see you,” Sam replied and folded his arms across his chest.

  Shane came closer and caught one of Sam’s hands in his. “Please, Sam. Just give me five minutes.”

  Sam glanced at me, and I could see how conflicted he was. My eyes begged him not to give in, but he did anyway. “Okay, five minutes,” he sighed. “We can go downstairs.”

  I was about to stand up and tell him not to go, but Dylan grabbed my arm. “Let him fight his own battles,” he murmured quietly.

  “But I don’t want to. He’s my best friend.”

  “You’re not his protector. He’s stronger than you think.”

  Was he though? Despite all his big talk, my little Sam was so diminutive and sensitive when it came down to it. He was a gentle soul. And gentle souls shouldn’t try to find their match in hard ones. They only got crushed in the end.

  The door closed behind them, and I grew anxious. Every second I wanted to get up and follow, but I knew Dylan was right. Sam wouldn’t thank me for meddling. The last time I did all I achieved was a punch in the face.

  Dylan wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “He’ll be okay. And if he isn’t I’ll give Shane a hiding.”

  I mustered a smile. “My hero.”

  He circled my wrist with his fingers. His thumb brushed against the inside and a quiver ran through me. He made a low hum in the back of his throat before he pondered, “How shall I help you relax?”

  The low, quiet way he spoke made my tummy flutter. I blinked a few times then pressed a soft, unsure kiss to his lips. “Kissing is good.”

  “It is. If only your aunt wasn’t coming back up in a minute.”

  “If only,” I sighed then settled into him. I liked the feel of his body
at my side.

  When Yvonne returned, her arms were full of salty snacks. She dropped them all on the table and announced, “Dig in. I don’t consider my job done unless your cholesterol has risen a few points before the night is through.”

  I laughed and opened up a packet of peanuts.

  Yvonne’s brows furrowed as she looked around. “Where’d Sam go?”

  “His friend turned up. He’ll be back in a little bit,” I replied, not getting into the fact that it was Shane. My aunt was even more protective of Sam than I was. If I was her adoptive daughter, he was her adoptive son.

  She sat between Conor and Amy, and Conor seemed content to just gaze at her longingly.

  “So, another birthday bites the dust, eh?” she said and took a sip from the glass of orange juice she’d brought up. “Tell us, what are your hopes for the next year?”

  Yvonne was all about the hopes and dreams. And she loved people who were like her, people who aspired to more than what they were handed. I was sure she’d approve of Dylan’s aspirations for a better life.

  “Getting into college will be good enough for me,” Conor replied. “At the very least it’ll keep my parents happy.”

  “Oh, but you must want more than that,” Yvonne chided. “A girlfriend, maybe? Perhaps to meet your idol?”

  Conor knocked back a long gulp of beer. I could see his tipsiness gave him courage to converse with Yvonne. “I don’t really have any idols, but a girlfriend would be nice.” He flashed her a sheepish grin. “You’re single, right?”

  Yvonne chuckled and smacked him on the shoulder. “Oh, you sweet talker.” She thought he was joking, which was funny because we all knew he wasn’t. “I’m sure Ev might have a few friends at school she could introduce you to.”

  I shot her a look. “You know Sam is my only friend, and I’m pretty sure Conor isn’t interested.”

  “Well, what about Amy here? She’s your friend, isn’t she?” Yvonne went on.

  Amy and I exchanged a glance. Technically, we were friends, but we’d never really spent any time alone together. “Well, yes, but—”

  Amy held up a hand to stop me. “I’m not a candidate. Going out with Conor would be like dating my brother.”

  “Hey! I’m not that bad.”

  She arched a brow. “Do you want to go out with me?”

  “I see your point.”

  “Just out of curiosity, are there any boys at school you’re interested in?” I inquired.

  “I’d do Owen Costello, and Eddie Ryan’s not bad-looking. Other than that, no. They’re all vile.”

  Both of the boys she mentioned were lone wolf types, a little like Dylan, actually. I wondered why she never thought to fancy him. Then again, they’d been friends since they were little. Maybe it’d just feel too weird to like someone you’d known that long.

  “Eddie Ryan sits next to me in Biology,” I said. “I could put in a good word for you.”

  Amy shifted closer. “Now we’re talking. What’ll you say?”

  “I could ask him if he has a girlfriend.”

  “Don’t do that.” Dylan frowned. “He’ll think you’re asking for yourself.”

  “No, he won’t. Boys at school aren’t interested in me.”

  Dylan gave a disbelieving laugh. “You’re funny, Evelyn. Hilarious.”

  “Yeah,” Amy added. “Everybody thinks you’re gorgeous. It’s annoying.”

  “If that’s the case, then why don’t I ever get asked out?” I countered.

  “Because if they did I’d kill them,” Dylan shot back, his arm around my waist now. It was a little too intimate for my liking, given that Yvonne was sitting right there talking to Conor. I shifted in place, but he didn’t lessen his hold.

  “Well, anyway, I’m fairly sure Eddie Ryan isn’t interested in me, so I can do some matchmaking for Amy. I’ll talk to him on Monday and let you know how it goes at lunch.”

  “Tell him I’ll meet him in the toilets for a quickie.”

  “Amy,” Dylan admonished. “You will not—”

  “I’m joking. Just tell him, I don’t know, that I think he’s hot and see what he says.”

  “I may have to rephrase it slightly, but I’ll do my best.”

  “I don’t like this,” Dylan grumped.

  I furrowed my brow. “Why?”

  “Because you’re my girlfriend, that’s why.”

  That shut me right up, and my heart raced. We hadn’t made things official, not yet. I suspected in Dylan’s head us being an item went without saying. My mouth ran dry as I stared at him. I also wondered if Yvonne had heard, but when I glanced across the table she and Conor were deep in conversation.

  “Well, yes,” I replied shakily. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t play matchmaker for Amy.” I tried to be cool, but it was hard when his words kept running through my head in a loop.

  You’re my girlfriend.

  You’re my girlfriend.

  You’re my girlfriend.

  “Fine,” he allowed. “But if he tries coming onto you, I’ll give him a hiding.”

  “Jaysus, you’re in the mood to give half of Dublin a hiding tonight,” Amy commented wryly. Dylan flipped her off just as Yvonne let out a squeak of surprise.

  I looked over just in time to see Conor try to kiss her. She leapt up from her seat like it was on fire. “Oh no, honey, that’s not what I—”

  “I didn’t mean it. I was only joking,” Conor replied lamely.

  Not one to prolong anyone’s embarrassment, my aunt sucked in a quick breath and pulled herself together. “Right well, I need to be getting back to the bar. You lot enjoy the rest of your party, and Ev, I’ll see you at the flat later.”

  With that she turned and hurried out the door. Sam was returning as she left, but she was too flustered to stop and talk to him. He stared at her retreating figure then looked to the rest of us. His hair was askew, his clothes rumpled, and his lips raw. Obviously, he and Shane had some sort of fumble, and my chest burned for him.

  Oh Sam, what are you doing?

  “Okay, that was weird. What did I miss?”

  Conor stared at the ground while Dylan, Amy, and I struggled for the right words to explain his awkward, mortifying attempt to kiss my aunt. Instead of making him suffer, I decided to be merciful and change the subject.

  “Nothing. Now come over and help me finish these Cokes before our time here runs out. You’ve been gone too long.”

  Chapter 12

  Dylan had to work all day Sunday.

  On Monday, I didn’t expect to see him until lunch, but he surprised me by showing up at my flat before school. Yvonne was still fast asleep, having worked a late shift the night before. I let him in with a smile and went up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss.

  “Missed you,” I whispered.

  I’d only meant for it to be a quick peck, but Dylan closed his eyes, his mouth practically sinking into mine. He quietly groaned and deepened the kiss by sliding his tongue past my lips. I gasped at the unexpected but pleasant intrusion. He wrapped his arms around my middle and walked me backwards to my bedroom.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, breaking away long enough to ask the question. Yvonne could wake up and hear him. Then I’d have to explain why I had a boy in my room at eight a.m.

  “I’ve gone a whole week without you,” he rasped, like that was explanation enough. His hands fumbled at the waist of my uniform.

  “We have to go to school,” I protested.

  “You’ll get there on time. I promise,” he said then put his mouth on my neck. That was when my brain stopped working. When he touched me, I was helpless; I let him do whatever he wanted. He laid me flat on my bed, divested my entire lower half of clothing, then went to town on me with his lips, teeth, and tongue. It was torture not to make a sound as my gasps and laboured breaths filled the room.

  Dylan looked sexy and ruffled in his uniform, his eyes on mine as he dragged his tongue over my clit in a lazy, repetitive rhythm. It felt like ther
e were a dozen tiny explosions going off inside me. I fisted my duvet, back arching as my orgasm built.

  Dylan palmed my hips, his gaze dark as he drove me to the heights of pleasure. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. I wanted to tear his clothes off and pull him on top of me, but we didn’t have time.

  When I came, my entire body convulsed. Dylan licked at me until I was completely sated, like he couldn’t get enough.

  “Pretty,” he murmured as I tried to catch my breath.

  “Uh . . . thanks,” I replied shyly.

  “We should start every day exactly like this,” he went on and I gave a soft laugh.

  “You’ll hear no complaints from me.”

  Was this what it would be like? If we moved away together? I felt incredible, like nothing bad could touch me, but I also felt guilty, because I wanted more. I wanted Dylan on top of me, inside me, under me. I just wanted. I wanted him to know the pleasure he just gave me.

  He exhaled a frustrated breath, then pulled me up from the mattress. “Come on, I better get you to school if I’m going to keep my promise.”

  On the way to our first class, we had to walk by Kirsty and her friends. Dylan held my hand the entire way, and for the first time I felt like we were a real couple. We were showing the world it was official, and I liked that, but I hated the attention. Kirsty’s gazed slithered along our linked fingers, and I caught a micro-expression of irritation.

  Oh, well.

  I suppose I better get used to being hated by Dylan’s bevvy of admirers.

  We stopped outside my classroom, and he gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “See you at lunch, Ev.”

  “Yeah, see you then,” I replied.

  All through my morning classes, I could smell him on me, a heady mix of his cologne and something that was just him. He was right. Each person did have their own scent, and Dylan’s was my favourite. I couldn’t stop thinking about him coming over to the flat just to go down on me. I was basically in my own little world. I took nothing in during class as I relived the whole thing all morning.

  That was probably why I didn’t see Kirsty follow me into the bathroom, although I did get an odd feeling on the back of my neck. My hairs stood on end, like my body sensed a threat my brain was too slow to pick up on.