Please Love Me Back
By Melanie Marks
Copyright 2016 Melanie Marks
Cover Image © -Lolly- | Shutterstock.com
All Rights Reserved.
Table of Contents
Please Love Me Back
The Girl Next Door
Peek at: His Kiss
List of Melanie Marks books
Newest books by Melanie Marks:
Jane’s Air
Even When I Sleep
Smokin’ Hot (Accidental) Kiss
Heartbreaker Hanson
Love Liam
Kissing Kade
Want to Hate You … Too bad I Love You
The Tough Boy’s Tender Kiss
The Player
My Brother’s Best Friend
Dearest (Hot) Enemy
The New Boy
My Stepbrother’s kiss
My Forbidden Heartthrob
(There are a LOT more books than just those)
For updates and full list check Melanie’s website: byMelanieMarks.com
(Check often as she’s always writing new books)
Melanie Marks’ newest books:
Jane’s Air
and:
Smokin’ Hot (Accidental) Kiss
BOOKS by Melanie Marks
His Kiss
Slumber Party Wars
Fall For Me
Jane’s Air
Even When I Sleep
Want To Hate You … Too Bad I Love You
Heartbreaker Hanson
Kissing Kade
Love Liam
Smokin’ Hot (Accidental) Kiss
The Tough Boy’s Tender Kiss
Ex-Boyfriend
The Player
Dearest (Hot) Enemy
My Brother’s Best Friend
The New Boy
My Forbidden Heartthrob
My Stepbrother’s Kiss
The Dating Deal
His Kiss
Her Kiss
Griffin
High School Boys
(High School Boys contains book #2 of His Kiss; plus Matt & Nicole in High School—their first kiss)
Louder Than Words
The Stranger Inside
Newest book: My Brother’s Best Friend
(Actually, there are a LOT more books than just those)
For updates and full list check Melanie’s website: byMelanieMarks.com
(Check often as she’s always writing new books)
***
UPDATE: Newest book:
Jane’s Air
Seventeen year-old Jane becomes an orphan and is pawned off by her aunt to work (and live) at the home (slash mansion) of the most handsome boy at Jane’s high school—Hunter Rochester. Hunter takes Jane’s breath away. But the handsome flirt is a mystery to Jane. Why did he persuade his mother to hire Jane to care for his little brother? And what other secrets is he keeping? (Jane has a secret of her own: she’s fallen for hot Hunter Rochester.)
(Jane’s Air is available now)
Please Love Me Back
CHAPTER 1
***Shane Shade***
SHANE
I cage the pretty cheerleader against the nearest locker barely able to keep from sniffing into her delicious, tempting neck. But she thinks I’m a freak, so me shoving my face into the curve of her pretty neck probably won’t help my case, or change her opinion of me. So, with great effort, I resist. For a second. But then I go ahead and do it. Because, well, I wanna. Pretty bad. And it’s not like I’ll get another chance in this lifetime. Besides, face it: I don’t have anything to lose. The chick already avoids me, so it’s not like she can do anything worse, avoid me more. So, I breathe her in. Mmmm. Oh man.
Heaven.
She goes still from my face so close to her warm skin. Goosebumps skitter across her flesh, yet I feel her tremble.
Okay, I probably shouldn’t like this so much—her trembling over me. But maaan, her scent. It drives me wild. It always does—always—but it’s even more mind-blowing up so intimately close than when I steal whiffs of her in creative writing class. So I do it again. Inhale her neck. (Like I said, I have nothing to lose—and oh man, paradise. Right here at Jefferson High School. Who would have thought?)
She gasps and tries to get out of the little cage my arms have her in.
“Sorry,” I laugh, because yeah, I’m being a freak, which I kind of enjoy being around her, since she obviously doesn’t think of me as some fine upstanding boyfriend-material kind of guy anyway, so I play with her. Like I said, what do I have to lose? Besides, if I don’t do it now—sniff her like a crazed lunatic—I’ll probably just do it some other time. I’m kind of like that. I mean, I’ve been tempted to do it all year anyway, and right now I have her conveniently caged, so I could do it to my heart’s content. Only, probably it’s some form of harassment or something. And it might actually scare her. Which, though it might seem like it, isn’t my intention.
So while she tries squirming away from me I reluctantly remove my face from her neck’s tantalizing warmth and intoxicating aroma (pout). I do it with a sad sigh, then inform her matter-of-factly, “I didn’t actually pin you here to sniff you—it was just a pleasant opportunity I couldn’t pass up,” I inform her.
“Well, why do you have me pinned here?”
“Funny you should ask,” I tell her sardonically.
The way she’s acting, it’s like she doesn’t even know me. Like she’s never noticed me before in her pretty life. But it’s just an act, I realize that as of just recently.
When I actually first discovered this—that she’s quite aware of me—a tantalized thrill went through me. It goes through me again now as I stare into her big pretty eyes and finally get to my point. I ask her softly, “Why do I pin the cheerleader in your book?”
Her jaw drops. Then she turns pink and tries to act like she doesn’t know what I’m talking about. She even uses those exact words. “I—I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she whispers, sounding like she might faint.
“Right, Cheerleader,” then I let her go, my point proven, I suppose.
I mean, I didn’t mean to give her a heart attack. But I think I just did.
However, the chick keeps writing books about me.
All these years she’s acted like I don’t exist.
But the cute little cheerleader is a friggin’ stalker.
CHAPTER 2
***BETHANY***
(Two Minutes Earlier)
BETHANY (The Cheerleader)—Two minutes earlier
My boyfriend gives me one last lingering kiss before we go our separate ways in the school hallway. I dreamily watch him disappear into the crowded student traffic, then glance ahead of me since I’d been walking backwards in a dreamy haze, staring at my boyfriend instead of where I was going. But—whoa! My breath hitches as my eyes latch on to Shane Shade. He’s coming down the hallway in the opposite direction.
Seeing him, my heart speeds up, just like it always does these days when I see him. It’s not just because he’s broodily handsome. It’s something more. Way more. Though I try to ignore it, since it’s disturbing. And, you know, I have a boyfriend. A perfect, wonderful boyfriend. A boyfriend that is total enemies with Shane Shade.
Besides, Shane is trouble. Not just to my disturbed heart. He’s actually really, truly trouble. And troubled. So I avoid him at all costs. You know, especially because he’s my boyfriend’s enemy—but for all of those other reasons too.
Still, my breath whooshes insanely just from unexpectedly seeing him, his dark hair in his gorgeous dark eyes, taller than anyone around him. He’s down the hallway coming my direction from the opposite end of the corridor. My heart thumps wildly seeing him.
&nb
sp; Just ignore him, I instruct myself. It’s not like he’ll talk to you anyway.
He never does. I’m not his type. I’m a cheerleader. He’s into wild party-girls. My good-girl image makes him sneer, probably. And the fact that I’m his enemy’s girlfriend probably makes him want to punch me.
As I jag to the left to not walk directly in the tough boy’s path, he curiously follows my jag. What the—?? Now we’re still on the same path. This won’t do. Although he’s still down the hallway quite a ways, I jag to the right anyway. But then—
So does he!
My heart jolts as I realize he’s doing this on purpose. I’m trying to get out of the dude’s way, but he’s making sure I can’t.
As he strolls straight towards me (no matter which side I choose, meandering that direction) I gulp and try to ignore it—ignore him. Since that’s what I’m used to doing—I ignore the guy at all costs. But today I can’t. As I try to squeak by him, he cages me against the row of lockers beside me.
What. The. ?????
CHAPTER 3
***BETHANY***
Shane Shade pinned me against my locker—then proceeded to unhinge my world. Not that it wasn’t already completely shaken by him just pinning me, and sniffing me. I mean, What the—???
Shane Shade is a tough guy, a “bad-boy.” Sooo not the type of guy to associate with a cheerleader of his own accord. I mean, besides to make fun of her for being a cheerleader. You know, for having school spirit and … smiling.
Not to mention the fact I’m his enemy’s girlfriend. I know I keep stressing that point, but it’s a HUGE point. Whenever he sees me with Blake (my boyfriend) it’s like he’s ready to rip off everyone’s heads. Yet that’s the only time he ever even seems to notice my existence. At all. Whatsoever. When I’m with my boyfriend, his total enemy.
So, it was to my total astonishment that he pinned me against the lockers. My heart exploded. What was going on?
Before I could get a word out, he sniffed me. SNIFFED me!
My knees went weak. H-o-l-y smokes!! Shane Shade’s gorgeous face was in my neck!
Oh my! Yowza!
Fireworks burst through me just from that, his handsome tough-guy face practically pressed against my skin.
But then he sent my world reeling. Stammering and trembling, I managed to choke out, “Wh—what are you doing?—why are you pinning me?
Reluctantly, he pulled his face from my neck, his dark eyes glued to mine as he made it clear he’d read my book (starring him!) He said, “I don’t know, Cheerleader,” then asked sardonically, “Why do I pin the cheerleader,”—his eyebrows rose, “—Cheerleader?”
My heart ricocheted off my ribcage.
He didn’t wait for me to answer, though. He seemed to know I couldn’t.
His eyes stared into mine as he slowly uncaged me. Then he walked away. His point proven.
I watched him go, my heart pounding frantically.
Oh glory, the jig is up.
The dude knows I write teenage romance novels … starring him.
CHAPTER 4
I think the very first time Shane Shade noticed me was back in middle school. I knew who he was because my aunt takes in foster kids. Shane was one of her regulars. He was continually in and out of her foster home, because Shane’s dad was an alcoholic and abusive to Shane. Sometimes his mom would at random times save Shane from his brutal dad by calling the police on the man when he was in a drunken rage, beating on poor little Shane. But she would always take Shane’s dad back eventually, which would mean Shane would get put back into foster care … until his mom would choose Shane over his dad again. It was a cycle. A very sad cycle.
Shane was in my English class. He had bruises that he tried to hide, and clothes that were so worn you’d think he had paid extra for them. (They were considered “cool” to the other kids at our school—kids that paid for wardrobes with ripped jeans.) His hair was long and always a bit shaggy and messy—but again, it was “cool.”
He was on the fringe of being “absolutely popular.” The thing that didn’t quite put him there was he didn’t care. He was grouchy when he felt like being grouchy—and he would punch-out people that were “absolutely popular” if they bugged him. He got in fights a lot. He was on the hockey team, and that right there told you something—he was tough. As though you couldn’t figure that out from his clothes and bruises and fighting.
Then one day—oh man! Heart-wrench!
He had to read a poem he wrote in front of the class. The poem seemed innocent enough, almost happy at times. But I knew better. I could tell the poem was actually about Shane—about his dad abusing him, and his mom loving him, but choosing to keep his dad. He (Shane) was the abused dog in the story, always wagging his tail to come back home, but being kicked around again, taken away from the “kind, frail woman who was abused herself.”
Towards the end of the poem, I was sobbing—silently. I thought. But I guess not. Shane stopped in the middle of his poem. Our teacher urged him, “Go on, Shane.”
Shane eyed me from the front of the classroom as he said to the teacher, “I would, but if I do—that girl is going to have a breakdown.”
As he said this, Shane’s eyes bore into me, like he was seeing me for the first time—and he knew I understood his cryptic poem. “—it just gets worse from here,” he said.
The teacher protested, “No, Shane. It’s very entertaining. We’re all enjoying it, go on.”
Shane said, “No. I’m done.”
He folded up his poem and shoved it into his back pocket as he took his seat. But he kept taking little peeks back at me for the rest of class.
When class was over, Shane handed me a note. It said: “I like your hair and the way you smell.”
I stared at the messy handwritten note, my heart fluttering wild. But Shane hadn’t waited around to see my reaction. Which was probably for the best. I had no clue how to react. My mother had stressed often that I should stay away from Shane and “boys like him.” Like I said, Shane had a troubled past. My mother wanted to keep me away from trouble, and to her, Shane was trouble with a capital “T.”
My mother wanted to keep me sheltered. She didn’t like my aunt taking foster kids in, and she didn’t allow me to associate with any of them. “We don’t want their influence on Bethany,” my mom would always tell my aunt, though my aunt would always explain to my mom, “It’s not the kids’ fault they end up in my care. They’re sweet kids. They need love.”
Mom would always say, “I’m sure they do. But I don’t want their troubles to rub off on Bethany.” Mom was adamant that I stay away from my aunt’s “kids.” It was sad though. I wanted to be friends with Shane. He had sad eyes. I wanted to make them happy.
I folded up Shane’s sweet (messy) scrawled note and put it in my backpack. I still have it to this day. But I didn’t speak to Shane again until today when he pinned me against my locker.
Well, I guess that’s not true. I talked to him a few other times. But the conversations were brief. And disturbing. And there were only a few. Ever.
However, that day—the day of his note—my dreamy thoughts of him had me in a mushy cloud of longing. I wanted to kiss Shane Shade. Or more accurately, I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted the tough boy to turn mushy and soft for me like I now desperately felt towards him.
All day I thought of him. The only time I briefly didn’t was after school while I was signing up for the school play.
A part in the school play—I wanted that almost as much as I now wanted Shane Shade to be my boyfriend.
As I was printing my name on the sign-up sheet for the play’s try-outs, a boy that never talked to me before was suddenly standing really, really close to me.
“Hi,” he said.
I glanced up at him curiously. He was one of the “absolutely popular” people at our school. His name was Blake, and he was rich. That’s all I knew about him.
Not sure why he was smiling at me so big, I said cautiously, “Hi.”
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br /> He said conversationally, “Signing up for the school play, huh?”
I nodded, since there my name was—on the sign-up sheet.
He smiled self-mocking-like, “Duh. I guess that was a stupid question. I just wanted to talk to you,” he confessed.
That made my heart jolt a little, since it was news to me. He wanted to talk to me? Since when? I mean, the dude had never said a word to me before. Like I said, he was “absolutely popular.” I wasn’t. In fact, until I started wearing contacts instead of my glasses, no boy ever even looked at me, let alone bothered to talk to me. I suppose the glasses made a big difference. (I’ve been told I have pretty eyes) (so score on the contacts.)
While I was still in confusion about this sudden Blake-noticing-me-thing, he said, “I’m going to sign up for the play too. My mom was bribing me to do it anyway—whining she would only continue paying for my limo trips with my friends to sports things and stuff if I continue performing in plays—which I’d been planning to ditch, by the way. But since you’re trying out … I will too.”
He grinned, “My mom will be pleased—so will my friends. Well, not about me being in a lame play, but that I’ll continue providing them with limo trips and season passes—and other mom-bribed stuff.”
He was totally flirting with me … right?
It totally seemed like he totally was. Totally. But I didn’t get it. At all. I mean, why me? I happened to know that the queen bee of our school, Trisha Montgomery, was drooling over Blake.
Man, these contacts had magical powers.
Blake quickly signed his name on the sign-up sheet, then he told me, “I’m Blake by the way.”
Slowly I nodded. Did he really think I didn’t know that? “I’m—”
“—Bethany,” he finished for me with a smile. “I know. My friend, Shane, was talking about you all day today.”
Please Love Me Back Page 1
