Endgame: An Ocean Bay standalone novel

by Chloe Walsh

  Nothing had ever felt this good.

  Nothing had ever felt like Rourke.

  Taking control of the situation, Rourke moved forwards, never breaking the kiss, and rolled me onto my back. Seconds later, his body came down on mine, hard, warm, and entirely welcome.

  Shimmying beneath his body to shift my skirt up, I opened my legs to Rourke and whimpered into his mouth when his erection pressed hard against my panties.

  He clamped a strong hand around one of my thighs and hitched it over his waist as he thrust himself against me, lips never leaving mine.

  I didn’t care that he had been kissing another girl less than an hour ago. I didn’t care that I was a virgin and about to give myself up to a boy who had the potential to crush me. I didn’t care if he didn’t love me. I didn’t care about anything other than having his lips on mine and his weight pressing me down. His hand moved to the hem of my shirt, pushing it upwards. Then he was touching my stomach, moving higher…

  I moaned loudly when Rourke reached for the cup of my bra and yanked it downwards. My breast fell heavily into his hand. The moment he pinched my nipple, something erupted inside of me, a deep heat of some sorts, and I bucked wildly beneath him.

  Grinding against me, I could feel his pulse hammering in his chest. He was hard and his erection strained against the fabric of his jeans, pressing between my legs. The feel of his hands on my skin caused my clit to pulse hard. I needed him. I needed friction. God, I needed this. More of him.

  Rourke continued to kiss me, his tongue stroking mine in fluent, confident strokes as I trembled beneath him. His hands were on my hips, pulling me against him, coveting my body.

  As soon as it had started it was over and I wanted to scream ‘no’ when Rourke jerked off me and leapt off the bed.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” I panted, breathless, as I gaped up at his beautiful face.

  “I…Fuck!” Rourke hissed as he ran a hand through his ruffled hair and stared down at me with a heated expression. “God fucking dammit.”

  My gaze dropped to the large bulge in his jeans. Why was he stopping this? He was hard and turned on. I know he was. I felt it. “Why’d you stop?”

  “Don’t!” He held up his hand and clenched his eyes shut. “Please. Fuck. Don’t say another word. You were right the other night. We can’t do this.”

  “What?” I shook my head and stared at him in frustration. Two seconds ago, he’d been between my legs with my breast in his hand. “Why the hell not?”

  He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose in what looked like pain.

  Was he in pain?

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  “I told you,” I breathed. “I want to do this with you.”

  “Well I can’t do this with you,” Rourke choked out.

  “With me?” Rejection coursed through me. What was I – a piece of shit? “Fuck you, Rourke.”

  “Fuck me,” he agreed grimly. “Exactly, Six. Fuck me and you’ll regret it.” He shook his head and exhaled heavily. “You deserve…not me.” Turning around, Rourke walked over to his bedroom door and reached for the key in his pocket.

  I didn’t want him to go back downstairs to her.

  I wanted him to stay right here with me.

  “Is this because of what happened to your sister?” I blurted out, desperate, just as Rourke was about to walk out. Was it? Was he leaving me here because he thought I didn’t want this?

  He froze in the doorway of his room, back stiffened.

  “I know she was abused,” I quickly continued to say, desperate to keep him here with me. “By a family member… who said it was consensual,” I added, feeling flustered. “This? You and me? I want this, Rourke.” I swallowed deeply. “I just wanted you to know that…if that’s why you’re walking away from me.”

  Moving like lightening, Rourke turned and stalked towards me, not stopping until he was leaning over me.

  “Let me be very clear about something,” he whispered, his hands on either side of my body, blue eyes locked on mine. “I stopped Britt from beating on you tonight because I don’t need the hassle.” He leaned closer. “Football starts back on Monday and I don’t need my father interfering with my team because of you. You’re a complication for me, Six. A fucking nuisance.” His eyes were blood shot and full of rage as he spoke. “And I stopped this from happening because I don’t want you. Because fucking you would be a horrible mistake.”

  “I hate you,” I squeezed out, forcing myself not to cry.

  Rolling off his bed, I barreled past him and ran to my room. I refused to let this boy see me bleed.

  The pain inside of me his cruel words had provoked had turned pensive and poisoned but I would burn in hell before letting him see just how badly he had hurt me.

  Rourke

  I FUCKED UP. I screwed up real bad, and managed to catch feelings in the process.

  Six’s face?

  Those silver eyes of hers, all full of pain and unshed tears?

  I couldn’t stop seeing them.

  I’d never been a hero with words, but my panic last night had led me to say some pretty fucking unforgivable things to her.

  I had feelings for her.

  I felt emotions for Six.

  Last night, I realized that.

  I think deep down, I’d known it for a while, but the other night when she asked me to tell her I loved her? Shit, that did something to me. Six did something to me. And then when I saw her all cut up and bruised… hell, if that hadn’t pulled at something in my chest.

  Don’t fucking ask me what feelings I was experiencing, because I had no idea of how to explain it, but there was no way I could take her now.

  If I did, if I jumped in with Six, I had a feeling I wouldn’t be coming back out.

  That scared me.

  I didn’t want this.

  I wasn’t ready.

  Goddamn...

  I spent the best part of Sunday morning cleaning up after the party. I took out the half dozen bags of trash before vacuuming the whole way through the ground floor. I felt fucking ridiculous the entire time. Never in my life had I used a mop or vacuum, but I did it anyway, and I did it with the image of Six’s face weighing heavily on my conscience.

  By one o clock, Six still hadn’t come out of her room, but the house finally resembled a home and not the zoo it had been when I got up this morning.

  With still no sign of her, I retreated to the living room where I spent the rest of the afternoon watching NFL reruns, feeling agitated and hungover to shit, only getting off the couch to answer the delivery guy when he dropped off a pizza.

  Amelia text me at some stage during the evening to let me know she would be spending another night at Jenny King’s house and going to school from there. Jenny was Daryl’s younger sister and Amelia’s best friend. I had no problem with her staying over so I let her know in a text, and warned her not to be late to school tomorrow. I knew she wouldn’t be, but it was the kind of thing I felt was my duty to say.

  I made three attempts to check on Six before I went to bed. I stood outside her bedroom door three goddamn times and couldn’t make myself knock. Whatever it was she had over me, whatever feeling this was, it wasn’t good. I wasn’t ready to commit to another girl, not after Britt, and it wasn’t fucking fair for me to lead Six on. I wanted her. More than life. But I wouldn’t use her like that. There were more than enough girls at school willing to sate that particular need of mine.

  Shit…

  What the hell was I going to do at school tomorrow?

  Britt was going to be there, and she was going to be out for Six’s blood.

  I couldn’t let that happen.

  I wouldn’t.

  Mercedes

  WHEN I WOKE UP MONDAY morning, my face looked a lot like my heart felt; cut to shit.

  Correction; my pride, not my heart.

  I refused to believe it was my heart that was hurting so bad in my chest.

  I made a huge mis
take by offering myself to Rourke on Saturday night, and he had showed me exactly how pointless that was; how broken his humanity was.

  His words still haunted me.

  I stopped this from happening because I don’t want you. Because fucking you would be a horrible mistake

  Stupidly, I allowed myself to grow feelings for a guy I knew was trouble. I knew he was a bad idea, I had warned myself, prepared myself for his bullshit, and still I let myself feel something for him. I refused point blank to acknowledge in any way, shape, or form that the emotions I was harboring for my stepbrother were anything resembling love. I couldn’t love him. I wouldn’t.

  For me, this was so much worse than the usual traumatic bullshit that came with a break up in a small town, because I had to continue living with him. Rourke had seen me in intimate positions, touched parts of my body, put his fingers inside of me. But I refused to go down like this. I refused to drown in these feelings. I would keep swimming. I would fight this until my heart stopped beating.

  I don’t love you…I won’t love you

  Numbly, I threw my covers off and walked straight into my bathroom for a shower. I needed to do something with myself, make myself somewhat respectable for my first day at the Academy. Yeah, the day I had been dreading was here. I should have felt nervous. Instead, I just felt…shredded.

  When I was finished, I quickly dried off and threw on a clean pair of bra and panties. Never in my life had I worn a uniform for school. The ones I had attended were low budget, lower middle class, American public schools. That was all about to change.

  A grey V-neck sweater with the signatory Ocean Bay Academy crest, white shirt, navy tie, and fitted grey skirt were laid out on a chair when I walked back into my room. Immediately, I shuddered at the sight. This was not who I was. I wasn’t a preppy, private school snob. I was a working girl who bussed tables to make it through school and keep a roof over my head. This shit was alien to me.

  I blow dried my long hair, in a state of semi denial, before forcing myself to suck it up and get dressed. Slipping on a swanky new pair of three inch Mary Janes – courtesy of step daddy Gabe – I adjusted my grey stockings before checking my appearance in the full-length mirror in my bathroom.

  Well… shit.

  I almost didn’t recognize the girl staring back at me. Running my hands over the front of my sweater, I adjusted my skirt once more and sighed. Maybe this whole uniform jazz wouldn’t be so bad. I had one of those hourglass figures everyone talked about. You know; big ass, thick hips, tiny waist, overly generous breasts. In theory it sounded great, but unless you had the bank account of a Kardashian, trying to buy clothes to suit my shape on a budget was close to impossible – and cellulite was a bitch. However, I was bossing this uniform look.

  The scratches Britt left on my face were healing, but still blatantly obvious, so I applied a full face of makeup to cover those up. I might not own much in the world in monetary terms, but I had some mad skills with a set of make-up brushes – the perks of being raised by a glamorous teenage mother.

  Twirling around to get a one final look at my ass before venturing downstairs, I raised a brow in scrutiny. God, there was no hiding that thing.

  No wonder my skirt was clinging to my body; I was housing half my weight in my ass cheeks.

  I wasn’t overweight, not in the slightest, hell, I was only a size six, but it was just all there.

  Whatever.

  Refusing to be one of those girls who dwelled on their size when they were perfectly healthy, I grabbed my bag off the bed and my car keys from my night stand before making a run for the front door, dreading the drive I was about to embark on to the fortress of eternal doom – aka high school. Yeah, avoiding Rourke was high on my agenda today and every day for the foreseeable future.

  Rourke

  EARLY MORNING FOOTBALL practice sucked ass. Getting up at the crack ass of dawn, having barely slept a wink, was not helping my already foul mood. Running drills in the heat of the early morning sun until I felt like puking didn’t help much either.

  Goddamn, Six!

  She fucked me up. Six weeks of her living in my house and I was a wreck. My game was off, my mind unfocused, and my attention elsewhere. I had no doubt if I didn’t pull it together by the game of the season Friday night, I would be getting my ass handed to me by Pattendale’s defense.

  “Someone get this man a pussy before he combusts right here on the field,” Mason snickered, jogging towards me, when I turned the ball over for the third fucking time this morning. “Or some lube for palm and her five friends.”

  “You better run, Mase,” Daryl ordered in an exasperated tone, intercepting me and ruining my plans on kicking the living shit out of Mason. “Calm your ass down,” he added, looking at me. “Now.”

  Inhaling a deep breath, I shook Daryl’s hands off and turned around. It was a lot easier to stem my homicidal tendencies when I wasn’t in direct view of the douche who drew them out of me. Images of him kissing Six flooded my mind then and I balked.

  “God fucking dammit,” I roared. Dragging my helmet off, I stalked off the field. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t fucking concentrate. In less than an hour, Six was going to be here, in my school, and I would have to watch these fuckers ogle her. I knew they would; they weren’t blind and she was beyond beautiful.

  Fuck.

  My.

  Life.

  Mercedes

  IT TOOK ME ALL of five minutes at my new high school to learn that Rourke Owens wasn’t just a bastard; he was an influential bastard with a throwing arm that rivaled a professional athlete.

  Apparently, my stepbrother was a pretty huge deal at this school, playing first string wide receiver for Ocean Bay Academy’s all state winning varsity football team.

  Fuck my life…

  Determined to seem unaffected by it all, by him, I kept my head held high as I walked through the hallway towards my locker with at least hundred pairs of eyes on me. It was pretty clear that since their star wide receiver hated my guts, his minions did, too.

  Molly and I had compared schedules this morning when I collected mine from the office and it turned out we shared all the same classes with the exception of three. I was relieved

  “Wow,” Molly chuckled as we walked out of second period World Politics and headed down yet another identical hallway. “You’re either a total badass and don’t care that everyone is looking at you, or you have an awesome poker face.”

  Poker face, I thought to myself. I had a great poker face that I’d primed to perfection over the years. I’d had to; this wasn’t my first time as a newbie in school. Unlike my dating history, when it came to the number of times I’d been the new girl at school, I was a complete slut.

  “My locker’s here.” She stopped beside a row of blue lockers and smiled. “Want help finding yours again?”

  “No. I’m good,” I replied, waving Molly off. “I’ll see you in class.” I was determined to figure this school stuff out on my own. I was happy to have a friend, but I didn’t depend on anyone for anything.

  Rounding the corner, I felt an immense sense of relief and victory when I realized I had found my locker without getting lost in the maze of Ocean Bay Academy hallways. The school was bigger than I had anticipated; with three upper level floors and an underground pool and weight room.

  According to Molly, sports were a pretty huge deal around here and everything about the Academy was directed towards their athletes, with their stars getting extra attention. I scoffed at the thought. It was like I had fallen asleep and had woken up in a goddamn movie.

  Ignoring the stares and whispers around me, I walked right up to the locker I had been assigned and began to unload my bag.

  “You shouldn’t be here.” Rourke’s familiar voice came from somewhere close behind me and I inwardly groaned. He was back to the you shouldn’t be here shit? Really?

  Frozen in my spot, I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep, calming breath before answering him. “We’ve
been through this. I have no choice.”

  “No.” He appeared beside me then, towering above me, looking entirely too good in his uniform. “You shouldn’t be here. In this section.” He opened the locker directly next to mine. “Your surname starts with J, not O.” He turned to face me then, his blue eyes heated and locked on mine. “Your locker should be down the hallway.”

  “Well, take it up with your father when he gets back from his trip, Rourke,” I whispered, forcing the words out, as I stuffed the books I didn’t need until later on in the day inside, ignoring the fluttering sensation in my stomach and the extreme pounding of my heart in my chest. “He’s the one who filled out all the school paperwork.”

  “Dammit, Six!” He slammed his locker door shut, but didn’t move. His jaw was working as he stared down at me with an expression I didn’t recognize. “I need you to not be here.”

  “That’s not your choice, Rourke,” I shot back, feeling every inch of my body tremble beneath his heated stare. “So, you’re just going to have to get used to it.”

  “Get used to it?” he shot back flatly, hands balled into fists at his sides.

  I opened my mouth to say something, but quickly snapped it shut when Rourke punched the door of his locker before promptly stalking off, leaving me staring after him.

  Jesus, what was his problem?

  Why did he hate me so much?

  And why did I have to care?

  Dammit.

  Rourke

  SIX IN A SCHOOL UNIFORM?

  Fuuuuck.

  How the hell was I supposed to handle this? Handle her?

  For most of my life, school had been my sanctuary and when I was there, I was king. I knew what it sounded like and I didn’t care. It was the honest truth.

  From the moment my friends and I stepped foot through the doors of Ocean Bay Academy, the other kids had sort of bowed down to us. Maybe it had something to do with football, or maybe it was money. I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t care. Up until now I had enjoyed coming to school. I had enjoyed the distraction it gave me. But now she was here and everything was all screwed up again.