I finish chewing the cardboard they call a hamburger then take a sip of my soda. “Last I checked, I’m not a teen girl. I don’t give a damn about high school gossip.”
Cole’s green eyes practically glow with amusement as he rubs his hands together. “Oh…something tells me you’ll be interested in this.”
“Jesus, Cole. Stop being so damn dramatic and tell me whatever it is you’re dying to tell me.”
When he reaches for another fry, I scoot my entire tray over to him and he begins shoveling the food in as if he hasn’t eaten in days. The asshole has an insane metabolism. I’ve never seen anyone put away food the way Cole can. He doesn’t even work out, but still manages to never gain a pound.
“You need to get laid,” he says with his mouth full. “You’re being such a grouch.” I cut my eyes to him in warning, letting him know I’m in no mood for his bullshit today, and he laughs as he holds his hands up in surrender. “Fine, buzzkill. I’ve heard more than once today you’ve officially staked your claim on Saint Violet.”
My eyes widen before I school my features. The cocky expression on Cole’s face causes tension in my muscles. I didn’t tell him what happened yesterday, and I don’t have any plans to. It hadn’t been my finest moment, and there’s no way I’m going to give him the satisfaction of saying he told me so. He’s been trying to get me to give into my desire for Saint since her first day here, telling me it would eventually come to a head either way.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” My attempt to keep my voice calm and indifferent is a complete fail.
“Word is you threatened Roberts for touching her yesterday.”
My jaw ticks as I force out a bitter laugh. “I didn’t threaten that prick. At least not directly. I simply told him to keep his hands to himself. It wasn’t about her. I don’t like assholes who think they can put their hands on someone without their consent.”
Could I be more any more of a hypocrite? Violet hadn’t given me consent to touch her yesterday either. I’m not entirely sure what I was thinking when I waited for her in the stairwell like a creepy stalker.
Once we were alone and she was close, I couldn’t resist the temptation to touch her. I wanted to erase him from her skin, so I did. When her eyes darkened with desire, I nearly came unglued. Lord only knows how far I would’ve taken things if we hadn’t been interrupted.
“Right,” he mocks. “And what about Spanish class this morning? Lacey said you moved to sit by her and were whispering in her ear.”
Shit. I knew changing seats to be closer to her wasn’t a good idea, but my mind was made up before I ever entered the classroom. I’d been given a taste, and I wanted more.
Talking to her wasn’t part of the plan. I was going to go right back to ignoring her…then I saw her starting to relax, despite my presence, and couldn’t stand it. Knowing I affect her the same way she does me is what keeps me grounded. Her rigid body and labored breathing as I whispered in her ear gave me what I craved.
“Lacey is a nosy bitch who’s mad I won’t hook-up with her.”
Cole shakes his head, annoyed I’m refusing to drop this little charade. “Look…you can keep wasting your breath trying to bullshit me, but it’s already out there. Every guy in this school is going to take notice of her now, and the girl is fine as hell.”
My hand curls into a fist, hating the way he described Violet. He’s right, though. She still has a sweet innocence about her, but her body is fuller. Not even her loose clothing can hide the curves of her hips, breasts, and butt anymore. Her beauty is lethal. Until now, I’ve been able to cut off most of her would-be-suiters at the pass. After word gets out that she’s caught my eye, they’ll be coming out of the woodwork.
Cole hums in agreement, as if he knew what I was thinking. “And once the guys start going after her, all the girls are going to put a target on her back. I already caught Lacey fucking with her this morning.”
“Fuck.” I slam my hand down on the table.
“I guess you weren’t thinking about that when you were with her in the stairwell, huh?”
Every muscle in my body tightens as I scowl at him. He laughs. “How the hell did…?”
He shrugs, a smug smile on his face as he finishes off my lunch. “You have your secrets, and I have mine.”
Chapter Five
THATCHER
My father has always made it perfectly clear he prefers my older sister, Kandice, to me. She’s his precious little princess, and I’m a screw up. When we were kids, every time he took a business trip, he’d come home with a new porcelain doll for her collection. At nine years old, fueled by jealousy and curiosity, I snuck into Kandice’s room and ended up breaking one of her prized dolls.
It wasn’t intentional, I simply wanted to understand what made the damn things so special. But my sister’s scream made me drop the doll, and it shattered to pieces on the floor. As punishment, my father beat me, then my mother took my favorite toy. They didn’t care that it was accidental. Actions have consequences, and I wasn’t supposed to touch her dolls. If you ask me, it was my sister’s fault for loving something so fragile, knowing how easily it could break.
I’ve watched my little Saint since her first day here, hoping she isn’t as delicate as she seems. Violet is exactly like that doll. I’ve given into my desire to play with her, and she’s going to end up broken.
My pencil stops when I hear movement to my right, pulling me from my dark thoughts. My gaze slides from my sketchpad to Joey as he slips Violet a note. My jaw ticks as she opens it. I want nothing more than to rip it out of her hands.
I’d taken a seat next to douchebag Roberts at the beginning of class, wanting to be sure he kept his damn hands to himself today. It seemed to do the trick. He’s been on his best behavior, and Violet has practically ignored him.
Keeping my distance from her no longer feels like an option. Not if I want to protect her from the vultures at this school. But getting close to her could be dangerous for us both.
And even if I tried to insert myself between her and every asshole at this school, they’d find a way around me. Like Joey with this fucking note.
She sighs as she finishes reading, her shoulders rising and falling with animation. Her head whips in my direction, catching me off guard as she meets my stare with fiery eyes.
There’s wrath behind them like I’ve never seen before—a fury I didn’t think she was capable of. My attempt to smirk falters. Joey’s little note clearly had something to do with me. Possibly the rumors floating around. Something tells me this isn’t the first time someone has asked her about it.
Her eyes soften as she shifts them to Joey before shaking her head. He smiles and whispers, “Good.” Rage swirls in my gut. I barely tolerated this little thing between them when I thought he was her boyfriend. Now that I know he’s dating someone else, I refuse to sit by while this asshole hits on her.
Twenty minutes later, the bell rings, and I jump to my feet. By the time Violet gets to the end of her row, I’m there waiting for her. She keeps her head down as she tries to scurry past me, but I grab the handle on her backpack and pull her to my side. She jerks to get out of my hold, her eyes wild as they land on me.
“You’re so feisty today,” I tease. Joey comes to a stop next to us as if he’s waiting on her. She gasps as I wrap my arm around her shoulders before giving him my attention. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to Saint alone. I’m sure your girlfriend is waiting for you.” My words don’t sound threatening, but there’s no mistaking my tone.
Joey shifts on his feet as his eyes flicker between us, then walks away. Fucking coward.
Violet bucks me off, turning to face me. “What kind of sick game are you playing?”
I’m having entirely too much fun messing with her, but it’s nice to see she has an aggressive side. My eyes travel down her body. It’s mostly hidden behind the oversized band tee and baggy jeans, but her defiant stance causes my smile to grow as I meet her glare aga
in.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” I say, feigning innocence.
We both know I’m full of shit. I’ve been asking myself the same question all day. If this is a game, I’m pretty sure I’m losing.
She growls at me, the feral rumble coming from somewhere deep inside her. It’s a serious turn on. “Whatever this is, I’m out. Leave me alone, Thatcher.”
She turns on her heel and practically runs out the door. I laugh as I follow behind her. Doesn’t she know the chase only makes things more interesting? She heads straight for the same back stairwell where we’d had our little moment yesterday, but I push her into an empty classroom before she can reach it. We’re not going to be interrupted again today.
Her breathing is heavy as she eyes the open doorway, planning her escape. I shake my head and close the door behind me. When I take a step toward her, she takes one back.
“This isn’t funny.” Her words come out shaky.
I inhale a deep breath, then slowly release it as I stalk toward her, not wanting her to know my heart is racing too. She shuffles back as I reach her, and the right side of my mouth pulls into a lopsided smile. “I’m not laughing.”
“What do you want?”
My brow furrows as I consider her question, attempting to close the gap between us. The truth is, I’m not sure what I want or what the hell I’m doing. I hadn’t planned any of this shit out. I’m acting on impulse—needing to be near her, touch her.
She continues to move back as I move forward, until her legs hit the teacher’s desk. Her eyelashes flutter as I invade her space, trying to block out all the inappropriate thoughts flooding my mind. Her ass propped up on the edge, legs wrapped around me, her eyes burning with lust as she looks up at me from under her lashes…
“What did the note from Joey say?” I demand, shaking the image away.
Her eyes widen, but she recovers quickly. “That’s none of your business.”
“You see…” I push one strap of her backpack off her shoulder, then the other, letting it fall on the desk with a thud. “When you turned those frosty blues on me after reading it, you made it my business.” Her arms are still hooked on the straps of her backpack, but I’m able to free them both without a fight before snatching the bag from her. She eyes it, then me, her jaw setting. “I can go through your things to get the answer myself or you can tell me.”
“Fine,” she grits out. “He wanted to know…” her words trail off, and she sighs, closing her eyes before continuing, “if the rumors about us are true.”
Her eyes pop open as my hand slides around her neck, my fingers caressing her hairline while my thumb traces over her beauty marks. She sucks in a quick breath, the long release sounding like a moan, and I fight the urge to crash my mouth to hers.
“What rumors would that be?” I push, playing dumb.
Her eyes fall as she answers. “That I’m yours.”
Fuck, I love the sound of that. If that’s what people have been saying, I might let them keep doing it. I may not be willing to accept it, and she may not know it yet, but it doesn’t make it any less true.
“Mine,” I breathe, needing to say it out loud at least once. “So, what…?” My hand falls back to my side as I drop her backpack to the floor and narrow my eyes at her. “It made you mad because you don’t want Joey to think you’re unavailable?”
She stands straight, causing her body to lightly press against mine, and my vision blurs with agonizing desire. “No, it pissed me off because it’s not true!”
My arm wraps around her waist, my hand pushing on the small of her back to increase the pressure of her body. “Do you want it to be?”
Her eyes flicker to my lips. “No.” The word sounds more like a plea for mercy than a declaration.
“No?” I echo, bringing my other hand up to cup her face. “Not even a little?” She gives another feeble shake of her head as I lean in, bringing my lips as close to hers as they can go without connecting. “That’s a shame.”
Her eyes close as she takes in a ragged breath. I should walk away, but I don’t…I can’t.
My lips meet hers with an eager force, and she lets out a tiny moan as her body melts into mine. Her mouth opens for me as I slide my tongue across her bottom lip. I want to devour her, but keep the kiss soft and chaste, my tongue slow and careful as it connects with hers. Her hands press into my back, her fingertips digging in, as if urging me to deepen the kiss. I want nothing more than to give her what she wants, but I pull away.
She blinks, her lips a little fuller than they were a moment ago, and pants to catch her breath. She’s never looked more beautiful. It takes all my willpower to turn away from her and head for the door.
“See you around, Saint.”
“Go to hell, Rebel,” she retorts as I step into the hallway.
Chapter Six
VIOLET
The noise in the cafeteria dies to a low roar as a tingle runs up my spine, alerting me of his presence. My mind races with the quickest way to escape, but it’s too late.
“Well, well, well…what do we have here?”
The malicious tone in his voice causes my stomach to drop, and I lift my eyes from the boy sitting across from me to the jerk standing behind him.
Until a few months ago, I thought the stories about high school being hell for freshmen were all a bunch of crap made up to scare us. Boy was I wrong. My first year has been a disaster. He’s made sure of it.
Thatcher Michaelson is a bully. The very thought of him causes an uptick in my pulse. He’s gone out of his way to make me feel unwanted, yet I’m still drawn to him. There’s a sadness behind those menacing dark eyes of his, and I can’t help feeling for him. Even if he doesn’t deserve it.
The air in my lungs freezes as he plops down, scowling at me before turning his attention to the poor sap whose only offense had been talking to me.
The guy tenses as Thatcher slaps a hand on his shoulder, tsking his tongue. “You weren’t hitting on Saint, were you?”
“N-Nooo,” the dude stutters.
My petrified breath rushes out of me in a huff, my fear transitioning into anger. They’re all so afraid of him. Every one of them falling in line behind him. It’s maddening.
Thatcher’s eyes slide back to me, his lips curling into a wicked grin.
“Hey, Saint.” He reaches over, stealing a grape from me before popping it in his mouth, and my traitorous stomach flutters as I watch him chew a little too intently. “I wrote a little poem about you. Want to hear it?”
My entire body tenses with unease. This boy has been nothing but cruel and cold to me since school started. If he wrote a poem about me, it can’t be anything good.
“Nope,” I clip.
Ignoring my response, he clears his throat, then begins, his voice much louder now. “Roses are red. Violet is blue. If you date her, your balls will be too.”
My face heats as everyone at the table erupts in laughter, my throat closing as I fight back tears.
The cocoon of darkness and peacefulness of sleep begin to fade as someone calls my name. “Violet?”
“Hmmm?” I roll toward the voice, but my eyelids are too heavy to lift.
The bed dips next to me as a hand lovingly strokes my back. “Are you okay, sweetie?”
“Mom?” I squeak, prying one eye open to see a blurry image of my mother’s concerned face. “What time is it?”
“Six-thirty. Have you been asleep all afternoon?”
My other eye pops open as I shoot up, causing my head to throb in protest. After Thatcher kissed me, it took me ten minutes to get enough courage to leave that classroom and drive home. I couldn’t chance running into him again, refusing to let him see how much he was messing with my head. When I walked through my front door, the weight of what happened hit me like a ton of bricks. Dazed and confused, I stumbled to my room, not even bothering to take off my shoes before curling up on my bed. That was nearly three hours ago.
“Oh gosh, I’m so
sorry. I can still make dinner. We have chicken tenders, and I can make some macaroni to go with them.”
She brushes some unruly hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear. “I’m not worried about dinner, sweetheart. We can order a pizza. I am concerned about you, though. It’s not like you to nap. Are you sick?” She places her hand on my head, trying to feel for a fever, then studies my face. “Why are your eyes all red and swollen? Have you been crying?”
I shake my head even as my eyes began to gloss over. The truth is, I cried myself to sleep. The tears flowed despite how hard I tried to fight it. Thatcher Michaelson doesn’t deserve them. But between the lack of sleep and whiplash of emotions I experienced today, there was no controlling it. “I’m okay, Mom. Just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Her lips thin, her eyes crinkling around the edges as she sighs. “Is it a boy?”
My chin quivers as a single tear rolls down my face, but I continue my denial. “No, it’s not like that.”
I’ve always been open and honest with my mom, and I thought for sure I’d tell her when I had my first kiss, but I can’t tell her about this. I can’t tell her I shared my first kiss with a boy who hates me.
Dear, lord… Thatcher Michaelson was my first kiss. Unless you count the time I let the boy down the street give me a quick peck on the mouth during a game of truth or dare. Which I don’t. The kiss with Thatcher was a real, legitimate kiss. Something out of fiction. Sparks, butterflies, the whole deal. Only, it meant nothing to him. It’s all a game for him.
Her lips press into a sad smile. She’s not buying it, but she doesn’t push. “Okay. Well, I’m here if you want to talk. And…if you need me to kick someone’s ass, let me know.”
Something between a laugh and sob escapes me as she stands again, leaning down to give me a quick kiss on the head before leaving my room. My fingers trace over my lips as my head hits the pillow. They tingle from the memory of Thatcher’s soft lips pressing into mine. He kissed me slow and gentle, as if he truly cared for me. During those brief seconds, I believed he did. It was all a lie, though. The way he easily walked away from me without so much as another glance in my direction proved that. There’s still one thing I can’t figure out: why is he doing all this? If he’s trying to break me, it’s working.
When the Saint Falls: a high school bully romance (Westbrook three Book 1) Page 3
