I shrugged, feeling a little guilty for lying. What would Willow do if she knew what I did? She always trusted me. Did I just break her trust?
What if she wanted to date Levi? Then I’d see less of her, and I barely survived the summer without her.
She trusted me so much, and she hardly trusted anyone.
I sighed and decided to tell her at lunchtime, even though I didn’t want to.
“Levi likes me? Really?” she asked after I sat down at the lunch table and reluctantly told her what happened in math class.
“Yeah. That’s what he said.” I stuffed a handful of chips into my mouth, eyeing her over. “You don’t seem that happy about it.”
“That’s because Levi’s not her type.” Wynter squeezed between Willow and me while Luna took a seat across the table.
“You have a type?” I asked Willow.
She shook her head, but a blush crept up her cheeks. “No.”
“Yes, you do.” Wynter popped the tab of her soda. “You told me this summer that you liked—”
Willow threw a carrot at Wynter, pegging her right in the face. “Shush. You promised you wouldn’t tell.”
I frowned. Willow told Wynter a secret that she didn’t tell me?
“Hey,” Wynter whined, chucking the carrot back at Willow. “That wasn’t very nice.”
Willow ducked out of the way, and the carrot fell onto the floor. “Well, you promised you wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“What’s the big deal?” Wynter asked, tearing open a bag of chips. “So, you like a guy? It was bound to happen sometime.”
Willow glared at Wynter. “Stop talking about this in front of everyone.”
My frown deepened. Okay, now I’m part of the everyone.
Then the craziest thought occurred to me. What if Willow had a crush on me, and that’s why she was so mad at Wynter? The idea should’ve made me uncomfortable, but honestly, I kind of liked it.
A few moments later, though, Wynter blabbed that Willow had a crush on Dominic, a guy who was a grade above us and wore studded bracelets and, I was pretty sure, eyeliner. That was the day I realized Willow had a type, and I was far from it.
I also realized I had a crush on my best friend.
My crush lasted all through middle school up to our junior year of high school. That year, everything changed. I went from thinking of Willow as my hot best friend to thinking she was a beautiful, kind, smart, caring girl I wanted to kiss all the time.
And I mean, all the fucking time.
I remember the first time I actually considered doing it. We were hanging out at my house, watching some stupid soap opera that was boring as shit, but there was nothing else on. Willow muted the volume and began ad-libbing for the characters. I joined in, and by the time the show was over, we were laughing our asses off.
That’s when my dad walked in and ruined the moment by being his douchey self.
“What the hell are you doing?” He grabbed the remote from my hand and shut off the television. He was wearing a grey suit and red tie, ready to go off to work, on a Sunday, something he did every single week, never taking days off, always worrying about work, work, work. “Get off your ass and do something. Quit wasting your life.”
He wasn’t a horrible guy, just a huge believer that people should spend life working their asses off. The problem was, I loved to mess around, have fun, party, and play sports. I didn’t have big goals or any real plans other than to pass Algebra and kick ass on the soccer field. I knew a lot of people my age who didn’t have any major life goals yet.
“We were just watching TV.” I frowned at the disappointment on his face. “It’s Sunday morning. There’s nothing else to do.”
He crossed his arms and stared me down. “Well, if you had a job, then that wouldn’t be a problem.”
“I have a job,” I argued, lowering my feet to the floor.
He laughed, and the noise made my muscles constrict. “Selling shit and lending out money isn’t a job.”
“Why?” I questioned with a crook of my brow. “I make money. Isn’t that what a job is?”
“Watch your tone,” he warned. “And no, that’s not a job … unless you want to work in sales. Is that what you want to do for the rest of your life? Spend hours in a store, trying to bullshit people into buying stuff? And doing so for a crap salary?” His tone dripped with sarcasm. “Sounds pretty rewarding, doesn’t it?”
“Some people have to work in sales. There’s nothing wrong with that. And I’m sure it’s just as hard of work as what you do.” I wanted to add that his job wasn’t all that rewarding, either, that his career as a lawyer had turned him into a liar, a jerk, and a snob. Whatever. There was only so far I could push my father before I had to pay some extreme consequence.
“Get your ass up and come help me at the office,” he snapped. “I’m going to teach you a thing or two about hard work.”
His gaze shifted to Willow, and I had the strongest compulsion to move in front of her, protect her, though I knew my dad wouldn’t harm her. I didn’t even like that she had to sit here and witness his shit-fit.
“You should take my advice, too, young lady. There are better things to do than sit around, wasting your time and my son’s.” He eyed over her cut-offs, her unlaced boots, and the worn T-shirt she was wearing, and disgust flashed in his eyes. “Although, I’d suggest cleaning up a little before you tried to apply for jobs. Most companies won’t hire people who look like they spend their nights sleeping in a cardboard box.”
My hands balled into fists, and I started to rise. I rarely yelled at my dad, but as my lips parted, I knew I was about to scream at him to shut the fuck up.
Before the scream could leave my lips, however, Willow beat me to the punch.
“First of all, I don’t think spending time with your son is a waste of time.” Willow held her chin high, her voice wobbling slightly. “I learn a lot from spending time with Beck. And second, I have a job. Two, actually. So I don’t need your advice.”
My dad blinked, thrown off. Then his eyes narrowed. “What could you possibly learn from my son?” His eyes swept the room littered with candy wrappers and soda cans. “Other than how to sit around on your ass all day and be completely useless?”
God, I hated my father. Nothing I ever did was good enough. And I hated that Willow was here to witness this. Sure, she knew my dad was a dick from the stories I told her and from witnessing him ream me occasionally, but he’d never directed his douchiness on her before.
“He taught me how to play soccer the other day, which let me tell you, took a lot of patience.” Willow counted down on her fingers, her eyes burning fiercely. “He taught me how to drive a stick, helped me open a savings account, showed me how to make interest in it. He’s actually really smart with numbers, but you probably know that already since you’re his dad.” Her lips spread into a smile. “Oh, yeah, and he taught me how to eat cookies and drink milk at the same time, which doesn’t sound like a big deal, but when you’re having a cookie eating contest, it really comes in handy. And winning cookie contests is really important to me. In fact, I’m thinking about going pro. That is, if they’ll let people who look like they live in cardboard boxes enter the competition. I’m not really sure about that. Maybe you know, though, since you’re so smart.”
I wasn’t sure whether to jump in front of her, laugh, or kiss the freakin’ shit out of her.
Steam practically fumed out of my dad’s ears as his gaze shot to me. “Beckett, you have five minutes to say good-bye to your little friend and get ready to go to the office with me. And make sure to dress properly.” Then he turned and stormed out of the room.
Once he was gone, I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding and turned toward Willow. “I’m so fucking sorry about that, Wills. Seriously, I can’t believe he did that.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” she insisted. “I already knew your dad was a dick.”
“Still … I should’ve told him
to go fuck himself when he said all that stuff to you. I was planning on it, I swear. You just beat me to it.” I grinned. “You’re kind of a badass when you want to be.”
She smiled back at me. “I figured I could return the favor for all those years you stood up for me when kids called me a four-eyed freak. It just sucks that he’s making you go to work with him. I know how much you don’t want to work in an office.”
“I’ll be fine.” I tried to sound convincing and failed epically. “A few days isn’t going to hurt me.”
“Still, if you need me to rescue you, call me.” She scooted closer to me on the couch, and when our knees brushed, my gaze flew to her legs.
She was wearing shorts, something she rarely did and something I had more than fully noticed when she’d showed up at my house. Her legs were so long, and her skin looked so soft. She was gorgeous. I swear to God, some days, it drove me crazy. I thought about touching her all the time, running my fingers up the sides of her legs, maybe even the inside of her thighs. I often wondered, if I did, would she shudder? I imagined she would. Of course, that might have been because I wanted her so badly.
“You’re okay, though, right?” Her voice was crammed with concern as she placed her hand on my leg, drawing my attention away from her legs. “You know what he said wasn’t true, right?”
I blinked the desire away, knowing she’d probably run the hell out of here if she knew my thoughts. Well, either that or kick my ass.
“Yeah … I’m used to his shit by now.” My miserable tone suggested otherwise. I wasn’t even sure my miserableness was because of my dad or from how much I wanted her without having the nerve to make a move.
She poked me in the side, and I flinched but laughed.
“Don’t let him turn you into a wallower. That’s not you. Don’t let him take away who you are.”
“It might be better if he did. I mean, everything he said was kind of true. I don’t really have any direction or goals or anything.” I was being overdramatic. At the same time, I kind of liked hearing her defend me. It made me feel all good inside. I wanted to hug her … kiss her … run my finger up the inside of her thigh …
See? There I went again.
“You have direction and goals,” she said. “They’re just different from his.”
I forced myself to focus on the conversation, carrying her gaze. “And yours.”
“Yeah, so? My goals are boring. You’re so much more fun than I am. Sometimes, I wish I could be more like you.” She twisted a strand of her hair around her finger and chewed on her bottom lip, drawing all of my attention to her mouth.
Unable to control myself any longer, I started to lean in to do just that.
Her eyes snapped wide. “What are you doing?” she sputtered, slanting back.
Holy fucking shit, this is getting out of hand.
I tried to settle the hell down. Moving away damn near killed me. It went against everything I wanted.
That’s when I realized how much I liked her. And not just because she was hot. I liked her for everything she was, for everything she did for me, for everything that we were. Some of my favorite life moments were experienced with her.
She made me laugh. She told me things I tried to convince myself I didn’t need to hear. She got me. And I got her. I got her so much that I knew I could never act on my feelings because it would break her rule to never date anyone, at least until she finished college. She created the rule over the belief that it would help her not end up like her mom. I knew she never would. But when Willow made up her mind about something, she threw all of her effort into it, which meant there was a slim to none chance that me acting on my feelings would end well.
And so began the last three years of my self-torment, of wanting something I couldn’t have. Something that was always right in front of me, reminding me how perfect life could be.
And, for a while, my self-torment was working.
Until the day I broke.
We were up in my room on my bed during a party, a little drunk and alone. I kept picturing myself laying her back, kissing her while exploring her body. I knew I couldn’t act on my desires. At least, I did until she told me I was making her nervous, staring at my mouth like she wanted to taste me as badly as I wanted to taste her.
Hope rose inside me, and I went in for the kiss.
For a microsecond, everything was perfect as our lips connected for the first time.
And then she broke the kiss and took off, taking the perfection with her.
She’s kept a hold of it ever since, and I question if I’ll ever get it back, even after she gave me a piece of paper that pretty much informed me that we’d never kiss again.
A stupid piece of paper with a stupid rule: absolutely no lip-to-lip contact.
I’m not much of a rule follower. Never have been. But for the last year, I’ve tried to be … for her.
Always for her.
Chapter Four
Beck
I’m not sure how long I zone off, thinking of all the times I almost kissed Willow and destroyed our friendship. Probably way too long, though, because by the time I’m yanked back to reality, we’re close to her apartment. I hate that I get so consumed with wanting her and wish I could just figure out a way to talk to her and tell her how I feel without her freaking out.
“Beck, are you okay?” Willow asks.
My gaze moves from the narrow street to her. “Yeah. I was just thinking about stuff.”
She twists in the seat, bringing her knee up. I try not to stare at her long legs that I can’t stop picturing around me, but she rarely wears shorts—though she really should—and I can’t help sneaking a glance or two. Or three. Or four. Or twenty. Still, I can’t help wondering why she’s dressed like this. She said it was for a party, but I know when she’s lying.
“What kind of stuff?” She rests her chin on her knee. “You have that look on your face.”
“What look?” The look where I’m thinking about how much I want you and how you’ll never want me back? At least, not the way I want you to. Do I have a look for that?
“The look when your dad is being a pain in the ass.” Her mouth curves downward. “Is he bugging you about working at the firm again?”
That wasn’t where my thoughts were, but I’ll take talking about my dad over telling her the truth.
“Princess, he’s never stopped bugging me. He likes yelling at me way too much,” I say. “And I’m pretty sure he won’t ever stop until I agree to do what he wants.”
“Please don’t let him force you to do anything,” she begs. “You deserve to do what you want. And you’d be miserable as a lawyer. I know you would.”
“Oh, trust me; I know that, too.” I flip on the blinker to turn onto the side road that runs through her rundown neighborhood. “And I’ve tried to explain that to him. I told him that I’d be the suckiest lawyer that’s ever existed. But you know my dad … His way is the only way.”
“Why does he even think you need to go into law?” she asks, tangling a strand of hair around her finger. “Just because he did?”
“I have no idea.” I shrug stiffly. “I stopped trying to figure out what the fuck goes on in his head when I turned twelve and realized he loved his job more than his own family.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t love work more,” she tries to convince me. “He’s just a workaholic.”
“Wills, I love that you’re trying to make me feel better, but I already accepted a long time ago that my dad will never like me as much as he likes his clients … and money, which kind of coincide.”
Her lips part, but then shut. A moment of pitying silence ticks by, and I start to feel like shit. Then she grins.
“Well, he’s an idiot. You’re way better than money. In fact, if I had to choose between you and having all the money in the world, I’d choose you.”
“Really?” My lips quirk. “All the money in the world, huh? Man, I must be extremely valuable.”
She
bobs her head up and down exaggeratedly. “You’re at the top of the list, Beck. Way, way up at the top where no one else is.” The lampposts reflect in her eyes, highlighting a hint of sadness. “You always will be.”
My chest tightens in the most wonderfully agonizing way. God, what I wouldn’t give to just kiss her again. All the money in the world and then some.
“What about Theo?” she asks, already moving on from the moment. Me, I wonder if I’ll be stuck there forever, consumed by wanting her but knowing I’ll never have her. “Is he only going to law school just to please your dad?”
I shrug. “Probably. I haven’t really talked to him about why he decided to go. Theo always seemed like he was going to become someone who needed a lawyer, not the one who would become one.”
She giggles, and the sound makes me want to spend all night cracking joke after joke. She looks so beautiful, especially when she laughs. I wish she would do it more often. I wish she wasn’t so stressed all the time so she could.
“Theo did get into a lot of trouble,” she agrees, her smile fading. “But, anyway. All I’m saying is that maybe if you and Theo were on the same page, you could talk to your dad together and try to make him see it your way.”
Leave it to Willow to try to find a solution to my problem.
“I love the suggestion, but I doubt it’ll work.” When she frowns, I add, “You know my dad. He never hears anything unless he wants to. I don’t even know how many times I’ve tried to have a conversation with him, and he completely ignored me and just walked out of the room.” I make a right down a narrow side road lined with small, older houses. “The guy’s got a serious case of selective hearing. I swear, it’s a fucking gift or something.”
“Or maybe they taught him that in law school,” she jokes, a small but beautiful smile pulling at her lips.
“Maybe. Or maybe he’s just an asshole.”
“Aren’t those two supposed to be one and the same?”
“They are, actually. In fact, I heard they make you take a class in law school that teaches you asshole skills. I think it’s called learning how to channel your inner asshole so that you bully people into doing things your way and become a real prick.”
Rules of a Rebel and a Shy Girl Page 5
