The Golden Boys: Dark High School Bully Romance (Kings of Cypress Prep Book 1)

by Rachel Jonas

  “West, I—I always intended to end it,” I grovel. “Things between Blue and I are … complicated. They have been for a while now.”

  “She’s fucking eighteen,” he shouts, showing more of his cards than I think he means to. Showing that he does, in fact, have one hell of a soft spot for this girl. All this proves is that I’ve taught him nothing.

  “I know,” I add with an air of regret, “Which is why we stopped for a while. She was seventeen at that time and I didn’t feel right about things.”

  His face twists with anger and I welcome the idea of him being disgusted by me. Having him think I stuck my dick in some underage slut is better than having him know the truth.

  I place my hand on his shoulder, knowing he doesn’t want me near him, and he shoves it off like I expect.

  “Don’t fucking touch me,” he warns. For a second, I think the kid might actually have the balls to swing, but he seems to think better of it and settles down.

  “Son, you must know I didn’t plan any of this. I love your mother,” I remind him. “But—”

  “Men will be men, right?” he cuts in, quoting a conversation we had a few weeks earlier.

  Feigning remorse, I nod. “I’m not perfect.”

  “Truest shit you’ve ever said,” he scoffs.

  “I didn’t intend to tell you all of this.” When I lower my head, I impress myself with how genuine this is coming across.

  He can’t even look at me, and I’m okay with that. The boy’s resilient, bounces back from these sorts of things like they never happened. Just like his old man.

  I peer up at him again, keeping my expression solemn. “I only came down here … to warn you,” I add, which I realize has piqued his interest when he meets my gaze. “That girl, she’s playing you. Probably has been since day one.”

  Even in his silence, I see how I’ve broken him, see how I’ve started a fire and then doused it in gasoline. The rage I see growing inside him is exactly what I want to see, because it’s what it’ll take to keep them apart.

  While I know the risk I’ve just taken, it was one-hundred percent necessary.

  “She’s using you to hurt me,” I add. “She threatened to do it, but I didn’t believe she had it in her. I should’ve known better.”

  This lie is the hardest to tell, because I’d die before I let someone manipulate me like that. In fact, I have people on the books strictly to prevent this very thing from ever happening. Sure, it isn’t cheap, but it’s proven more than once to be a worthwhile cost.

  To clean up my messes.

  Even to clean up West’s.

  “What’s her plan?” West seethes, now filled with searing anger and pain.

  “She seems to think that sleeping with you will punish me for not leaving your mother. If she didn’t know I’d rake her ass over the coals, she’d probably try to sell the story to the first news outlet who’d listen, but she’s no idiot.”

  When West doesn’t have a snappy comeback, I can only guess he’s bought what I just sold.

  Damn, I’m good.

  “You never leave your tracks uncovered. Ever. So, why this time?” A cold look flashes in my direction and there’s one last hint of suspicion burning in my son’s gaze.

  One last doubt I need to stamp out of his head.

  I make a false attempt at touching his shoulder again, but pretend to change my mind at the last second. Then, I lower my gaze in ‘shame’.

  “You’re not gonna want to hear this,” I begin, taking a deep breath, “but … it wasn’t just sex with her. It was … more than that.”

  I pause, letting that sink in with him, humanizing myself in his eyes in a way I’ve never done before.

  “I can admit that I fucked up,” I add. “I let the feelings I developed give me a false sense of trust. Eventually, I told her things about me that I shouldn’t have, told her things about our family that I shouldn’t have, but that’s how clever she is,” I warn him. “She knows how to get inside your head, which is why I’m willing to bet you’re having a hard time believing all this. But, as much as I wish it was all made up, as much as I wish I could turn back time and redo what I’ve done … I can’t,” I conclude. “The only thing I can do from here is make sure she doesn’t continue to use you, manipulate your feelings, just to get under my skin. Because, trust me, once that happens, it’s hard as hell to get that one out of your system.”

  He’s quiet. Very quiet.

  “Have you told her about this? That you planned to tell me everything?” he asks.

  My brow tenses, wondering why he’s asking.

  “No, West. My loyalty isn’t to her,” I assure him. “It’s to you, this family.”

  Hearing that, his jaw ticks and he grits his teeth. “Fuck your loyalty,” he growls.

  I nod, agreeing like some sympathetic fiend, desperate for his approval. “Just tell me what I can do to make this right, son. I’m willing to do anything.”

  His gaze is cold and unfeeling when it lands on me. “The only thing I want from you, now or ever, is your word that you’ll keep your fucking mouth shut. Don’t tell her you came to me with this.”

  Again, I nod, but can’t help but to ask one last thing. “Why? What’s your plan?”

  A normal kid would be scarred from the things West has seen and heard, but he’s made of steel, unbreakable. Which is why I know hearing this has only given my boy a newfound sense of vigilance. Whatever he thought he felt for this girl, it should be dying a slow death inside him now.

  West storms off without answering the question, but even seeing how this talk has wounded him, I regret nothing. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve just successfully avoided a catastrophic disaster. If sacrificing my son’s perception of me keeps the Golden name from getting dragged down into the mud, keeps everything I’ve worked so hard to conceal from blowing up in my face, then … so be it.

  Others might argue that the price might not be worth the outcome, but I would have to disagree.

  Some secrets are never meant to be unearthed.

  Blue

  Not a word while we waited to load.

  Not a word since getting on the bus.

  I mean, I didn’t expect to sit together or anything, but this feels … extreme.

  It’s not even so much that he hasn’t spoken—because that isn’t so far out of the ordinary for us—but he hasn’t even looked my way. He’s got his headphones on under a dark hoodie that hides most of his face, and it’s like I don’t even exist to him.

  Well, I guess it’s better to know where we stand than to be left in the dark. Right? Apparently, the request he made in the pool a couple weeks ago no longer appeals to him. With how I’ve seen girls shamelessly proposition him, I shouldn’t be surprised he’s lost interest.

  Just wish I’d known sooner. For one, I wouldn’t have wasted my time shaving this morning. You know, on the off chance that things did go further than planned this weekend.

  But no chance of that happening now, and I can’t afford to care. West is nothing to me and I’m nothing to him.

  Obviously.

  Lucky for me, when we loaded the bus, I didn’t get stuck sitting by anyone I hate, but rather someone I don’t know very well.

  So far, Joss hasn’t said one word to me, and I need something to distract me from glancing back at West every three seconds. So, I decide it’s on me to break the ice between her and me.

  “Excited about the game?” I ask when nothing else comes to mind. Guess I could’ve mentioned the weather, but it’s cold and cloudy. Not much else to say about it.

  She lowers the book she holds, smiling a little, which makes me feel less guilty about interrupting her.

  “I am,” she answers. “You?”

  I shrug, realizing that I was excited, before seeing that West has flipped the switch on me once again.

  “Sort of. It’s kind of nice to be getting away from home.”

  Not only is the school paying for my room, but Scar is safe, too.
She’ll be with Jules the first night, and with Uncle Dusty the next.

  “You play basketball, don’t you?”

  I wasn’t expecting Joss to ask anything about me, because I didn’t realize she knew anything about me.

  “Yeah,” I say with a smile. “They just made the final cut this past Monday.”

  She nods. “That’s pretty cool. I’ve never been super athletic.”

  “Dance requires quite a bit of athleticism, doesn’t it?”

  Joss shrugs and actually closes her book.

  “Sort of?” she answers with a laugh. “But I guess I’m referring to the whole hand/eye coordination thing. Dance is all about flexibility, strength, and good balance, but I couldn’t make a basket to save my life.”

  I laugh a bit. This feels easy.

  “I watch the guys out there on the field every week in awe,” she shares. “Dane goes into beast mode and it’s like watching art in motion. All the Goldens are like that, actually.”

  She cleaned that up nicely, but I don’t miss that she mentioned Dane first. Nor did I miss the way she forced her expression to straighten after talking about him. It’s the sort of thing Jules would’ve called me out on, but Joss and I don’t know each other like that. So, I keep what I suspect to myself.

  “Yeah, they’re really good,” is all I say back.

  She eyes me with a smirk and I’m unsure what she’s thinking.

  “So, it’s a little weird to have all those pics of you and West floating around on the net and yet, here you are, sitting with me instead of him.”

  Apparently, she’s not as adverse to prying as I was a moment ago. I feel my face warm, which likely means it’s red, too.

  “Well, I—”

  There’s no real answer for that, so I pause. I showed up at the school today, expecting West to be at least a little warmer than usual, considering, but instead I got the cold shoulder.

  “He’s just a bit hard to figure out,” I share with her, not feeling like I’ve said too much.

  My statement draws a laugh from her. “Giving you whiplash, huh?” she asks, sounding like she knows a thing or two about that.

  “That’s one way of putting it.”

  She nods. “I will say this, though. Whatever the beef was between you two when you first got to Cypress Prep, West definitely seems far less hostile about it. Like, maybe he’s starting to soften up a bit.”

  I suppose that would’ve come as a relief if I considered myself one of West’s groupies, but I’m not. What has me feeling weird is how he’s seemingly gone cold toward me again. No, he hasn’t been cruel, but having seen that there’s another side to him recently, I can admit to not being ready to let that go.

  I enjoy that side of him.

  I want that side of him.

  It felt like things were changing between us—I mean, really changing—and now this.

  “You two should just talk,” Joss suggests. I’m not even sure she realizes how complicated something as simple as a conversation can be for West and me.

  “Easier said than done,” I admit.

  “Tell you what. Trip and Austin are having everyone over to their room tonight. You should drop in and just, you know, pull West aside,” she suggests. “Despite what he has you thinking, he’s not a total d-bag. Actually, he’s a closeted sweetheart,” she says with a laugh. “You just have to get to know him.”

  I nearly laugh out loud. No way West Golden is a sweetheart. Not even on his best day.

  “I’ll think about it,” is all I say, but I’ve already made up my mind.

  I’m staying as far away from him as possible. I’ve already given him too much slack, too much access to my thoughts, my body, and my heart. I’m sick of being made to feel like a fool, but that’s exactly how I feel every time I fall for West’s games. If this cycle we keep repeating is ever going to end, it’s up to me to end it.

  So, that’s what I’ll do. Right here. Right now.

  Whatever West and I were on the verge of becoming, it’s officially dead.

  Completely.

  @QweenPandora: Guess what team is one step closer to State Finals, lovelies! Our boys have looked good out on the field all season, and call me optimistic, but I believe we’re positioned to dominate at Regionals, too. It’s possible I’m a little biased, but it’s undeniable that CPA’s team has been on FIRE! Assuming they don’t party too hard this weekend, I’m putting it out into the universe … we’re bringing home another big win! Go Panthers!

  Later, peeps!

  —P

  Chapter 37

  BLUE

  “This is so stupid.”

  I’m talking to myself, because I’m alone in my hotel room, being lame. A sharp sigh of frustration puffs from my lips as I stare at the ceiling.

  It’s eight P.M. and I’m the only person on the planet—under the age of seventy—poised to go to bed this early. But I have nothing better to do, and sleep is the only guarantee I won’t do something I’ll regret.

  Like, taking Joss’s advice and heading to Trip’s room to deal with my West problem. Joss had even stopped by my room on her way to the party, and when I told her I was passing, she gave me her number in case I wanted to talk about everything later.

  Of all the members of the dance squad, she’s by far the most tolerable.

  As a last-ditch effort to do the right thing, I check in with Scar.

  “Are you in bed?” she asks after saying ‘hello’.

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  “I can hear the lameness in your voice,” she teases. “Isn’t your boyfriend there? Why on earth aren’t you out doing something fun right now?”

  I sigh and, apparently, don’t answer quickly enough for her, because she’s on my case again.

  “Get up, Blue!” she yells into the phone.

  I don’t even bother telling her West isn’t my boyfriend. People seem to believe what they want to about that situation.

  “Give me the phone,” I hear Jules say in the background. “Did I just hear right?” she asks. “You’re seriously in bed right now? While there’s an entire football team on the same floor? And I’m guessing very little supervision?”

  “You don’t understand,” I whine.

  “What I do understand is that you’re making the south side look really bad right now. Please, for the love of all that is holy, get up and do something,” she pleads.

  I glance at the clock. “There’s a party, but—”

  “No buts,” Jules snaps. “Get up, shower, put on something cute, and go!”

  I’m smiling, although I don’t really believe heading to Trips room is the smartest thing right now.

  “We could always watch something together on Netflix,” I suggest next.

  “I’m hanging up,” Jules barks. “And when I check in later, you better have your ass out of that bed. Understood?”

  It’s impossible not to roll my eyes, knowing I’m about to actually go through with this.

  “Fine,” I give in.

  The next second, the line goes dead and I slither out of bed, making my way toward the shower.

  Here goes nothing.

  As soon as I knock, I regret it.

  On the other side of the door, I hear chill music and laughter. Surprisingly, despite knowing there are a ton of people inside, they aren’t super loud.

  “Sup, Southside,” Dane answers with a grin. He’s leaning on the door and I can’t help but to peer over his shoulder, in search of the one I shouldn’t even be thinking about.

  “Hi,” I say flatly, because I’m always leery of him and both his brothers.

  “Come in,” he says a little too sweetly for me. So, naturally, I’m eying him as I enter the room. “Grab a beer, get comfortable, and if you spot anything questionable or illegal,” he adds, “just … unsee it.”

  I offer an uneasy smile, feeling the vibration as the door closes behind me. Several girls from the dance squad are focused on me, and they’re practi
cally snarling as I pass by them. They don’t even have to worry about me. I’ll be avoiding them at all costs tonight.

  Bunch of snobs.

  There’s another room connected to Trip and Austin’s. From the looks of it, that one’s packed, too, and I assume it’s where another pair of players are staying this weekend.

  A bucket of ice sits on the dresser. Beside it, a stack of red, plastic cups and a cluster of empty beer bottles. How they smuggled this stuff in here without getting caught, I’ll never know, but I would imagine this group has plenty of experience with such things.

  But anyway, I’m not here for any of this.

  While I showered, I decided Joss is right. If I’m going to move on, if I’ll ever have any measure of peace where West and I are concerned, a conversation is one-hundred percent necessary. No more of this BS with him not stating clearly what I’ve done to warrant his hatred. I’m not expecting it to go well, but I’m sick of this. All of it. Either we fix things and move forward—whatever that means for two people like us, the broken. Or, we burn the bridge that connects us.

  And when I say burn it, I mean we burn that bitch down to the studs.

  “You came!”

  Joss is clearly a little tipsy, which accounts for the overly enthusiastic greeting. I’ll take it, though. At least someone’s happy to see me. She hops off the chair she’s seated in and squeezes me around my neck like we’re old friends.

  “Yeah, guess I had a change of heart.”

  I leave out the part about how Scar and Jules pretty much threatened me.

  Joss backs off a bit, but apparently notices how my eyes dart around. Doesn’t take her long to figure out who I’m searching for.

  “Last time I saw him he was headed back to his room,” she whispers with a smile.

  “Alone?” I ask, feeling my heart race with the question.

  “Far as I know,” she adds with a shrug. “Room 271.”

  I appreciate the fact that, even drunk, she’s still discreet.