Brat: A High School Bully Romance (The King of Castleton High Book 2)

by Ellie Meadows

  BRAT

  The King of Castleton High

  #2

  E L L I E

  M E A D O W S

  Copyright © 2019 Ellie Meadows

  (Eli Constant Books)

  Cover © Wilde book Designs

  1st Edition Edits – The Editing Soprano

  This book may not be reproduced, in any fashion, without the explicit permission from Ellie Meadows /Eli Constant Books. Ellie Meadows asserts her right to hold ownership of this work. The unauthorized reproduction and/or distribution of this work is illegal.

  This is a work of fiction. Any locations that resemble something in reality are used in a fictitious manner. Similarities to organizations and locales, existing now or in the past, are purely coincidental. Characters are creations of the author’s imagination. Similarities to actual persons, living or deceased, are also purely coincidental. The events in this book should not be construed as real in any capacity.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Warning

  Dedication

  Blurb

  Author Note

  Chapter 1: Tarryn

  Chapter 2: Tarryn

  Chapter 3: Drake

  Chapter 4: Tarryn

  Chapter 5: Tarryn

  Chapter 6: Drake

  Chapter 7: Tarryn

  Chapter 8: Tarryn

  Chapter 9: Drake

  Chapter 10: Tarryn

  Chapter 11: Tarryn

  Chapter 12: Drake

  Chapter 13: Tarryn

  Chapter 14: Tarryn

  Chapter 15: Drake

  Chapter 16: Tarryn

  Ellie Meadows

  Also by Ellie Meadows

  W A R N I N G

  Recommended for 17+, mature readers.

  This series contains consensual sex (All sex is consensual. If it’s nonconsensual, that shit’s called rape), underage drinking/smoking, and various scenes some readers might find inappropriate.

  Cliffhangers were used in the making of this series… Fair warning.

  D E D I C A T I O N

  Sorry in advance about the dream scene…

  I have only one excuse.

  I experienced my own ‘aware’ dream the night before I wrote it.

  A particular actor with a smile that slays…

  Location: the ‘right side’ of the shower, no horses hurt in the process.

  And every part of this actor’s currently-sexy, gloriously-aged-like-fine-wine, experienced fifties body was focused on little old me (stretch marks and all).

  I have several actor crushes listed in other bios, but I always leave this one out. Maybe because he’s my favorite… and I want to keep that secret for myself. We all have secrets.

  So this book is dedicated to that actor. I’ve adored him at every stage of his career, not just for the movies he makes, but for the authentic way he seems to live his life.

  No, it’s not Keanu. Great guess though.

  I do love my husband…

  Xx

  Ellie

  B L U R B

  ‘I’ll go to the dance, but I won’t enjoy it. I hate you, Drake.’

  Famous last words from a girl who can’t keep her lips to herself…

  ‘The game worked perfectly. She’s mine for the taking.’

  Famous last words from a guy who doesn’t know he’s met his match...

  #

  I can’t fall for Drake. No, I won’t fall for Drake.

  I’ll give him a taste of his own medicine.

  His bullying days are over.

  Drake Castleton believes he’s a king.

  He thinks girls exist for pleasure.

  And money buys everything.

  But it doesn’t buy me.

  Though there’s a part of me that…

  finds him intriguing. God help me.

  ***

  Tarryn thinks she can resist me.

  She thinks she knows how to play the game.

  She doesn’t know the truth though.

  That it was never a game.

  Even when I tried to convince myself that’s all it was…

  I don’t know how to make amends.

  But f***, I’m gonna try.

  A U T H O R N O T E

  Let’s talk. **wink**

  I have three daughters. Three supremely cool, aware of their bodily autonomy, freaking smart, bats-out-of-beautiful-hell daughters.

  Do I want them going to high school parties and engaging in drug use and sex?

  Not really.

  Will I teach them to be in charge of their actions, use protection, and always call me if they need help? Hell yes.

  I want my girls to know that I’ve got their backs. I want them to know that sex isn’t a bad thing and it’s not an obligatory rite of passage either. I want them to know that purity sure as hell doesn’t dictate worth. I mean, I do want my children to wait for love, for that deep connection with someone that makes them feel ‘ready’ (what parent doesn’t?), but I’ll never make them feel guilty for the choices of youth that inform their adulthood.

  ###

  THE POINT IS that this is a work of fiction. It’s not reality. I’m not a mother walking around wanting my daughters to fall in love with Drake-types. I wouldn’t mind…maybe a Sasha-type though.

  1.

  T A R R Y N

  The light was fading, evening fingers reaching into the sky. The beginnings of what promised to be a gorgeous sunset.

  But I was too pissed to enjoy the sight.

  “I’m not going to dinner with you, Drake,” I stood on the top step that led into my house. The front door was closed. Mom and Dad were no doubt stood near the windows, peeking out from behind the transparent curtains, trying to get a last look at us before we left for a wonderful high school rite of passage. Only they didn’t know that it wasn’t wonderful, not in the least bit. I’d fallen prey to a bully’s trickery. And that bully was standing so close to me that I could smell the heady scent of his no-doubt expensive cologne.

  I saw the living room curtain shift noticeably now and my mom’s face appeared as the gauzy material was pulled to one side. She was smiling like an idiot. I smiled back, and I hoped it was convincing. Mom had the courtesy to look embarrassed after her gaze flicked to Drake and she realized how intrusive she was being.

  “You’ve got to fake it or walk back through that door, Square.” Drake leaned a little closer. He lifted his arm to snake over my shoulder and he tapped ever-so-lightly on the front door behind me. “It would disappoint good old Mom and Dad. Disappoint me. But most importantly? It would seriously disappoint the way you look in that dress. This, Square,” he leaned back a little, appraising me in a way he wouldn’t have dared do in front of the parental units, “this is walking sex.”

  “It is not,” I pushed him and he feigned losing his balance and stumbling down the steps to stand on the ground-level walkway. I pitched my voice into a whisper that couldn’t be heard inside the house, just in case mom was standing with her ear pressed against the door now that she’d vacated the more obvious window position. Feeling suddenly exposed and shy, I tugged gently at the neckline of the dress. And all that did, I realized, was gently bounce the pale half-moons of my breasts showing between the sweetheart dip.

  Drake’s eyes were watching my hands move. There was hunger there. He didn’t even try to hide it like a gentleman. “Walking sex,” he repeated. He climbed up the stairs again. I held my breath as I watched him come closer and I instinctively backed up against the door behind me. He reached a hand up and extended just his index finge
r. With a touch so gently I could barely feel it, he traced the line of the silvery material from my collarbone down to where the V shape terminated. I shuddered. God, I didn’t mean to, but I did. A single vibration ran the length of me, from toe to scalp. “You don’t wear a dress like this unless you want to make a promise, Tarryn.” He used my name now, instead of the nickname. I loved how he said it. I loved the heat of it. And, at the same time, I hated it.

  “I didn’t pick this dress for you,” I spat out angrily. “You weren’t the person I was expecting.”

  He jerked his hand back, his face suddenly stricken. It was nice to know I could affect him like that. I had power. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, I knew it was the case. He might be the spider, and I the fly stuck in the webbing he wove… but he was more attached to his own net than he realized.

  “That’s true,” he said slowly, responding to my jab about Aiden. “I suppose I’ll have to make it my job to convince you that I’m the only person this dress was meant for. From the beginning, stitch by stitch, it was mine.” He reached forward once more, this time targeting the material over my abdomen. More firmly than his last touch, he started to draw a pattern. Letters, I realized, after the second one was nearly traced. D R A K E. “There,” he smiled slyly, “it even has my name on it.”

  I startled when the door gave way behind me. I moved abruptly, my body pressing into Drake. My breath caught in my throat as the feeling of being so close to him washed over me. It was an… almost magnetic feeling. Like I was his opposite pole and we were finally near enough to feel the pull of power that led to the collision that would signal two halves coming together.

  I choked on it and I pushed him away, trying to suck in a gasp of air against the sensation.

  “Um, Tarryn.” It was my mom’s voice. I turned to focus on her. She’d only opened the door enough to poke her head out. “Is everything okay? You’re going to miss reservations if you don’t scoot.”

  “Everything’s fine, Mom,” I stammered out.

  “Yes.” Drake broke in and it probably seemed like he was being chivalrous and a great date. “Sorry, Mrs. Monroe. Anytime I’m talking with Tarryn, I lose track of time. I can’t help it.” Charm. He oozed charm and confidence and I wanted to knee him in the groin. Which would probably seem like a really odd response to my mom, considering she was only seeing the flawless Drake Castleton and not the user fuck boy.

  Mom’s anxiety melted away and she giggled like a school girl. She giggled. My jaw dropped, but there was nothing I could do or say as she closed the door after giving me a quick, totally obvious, wink. I loved my parents. I really did. But they, especially mom, were ridiculous sometimes. This wasn’t orange-scented hair crème. This was a human being that had made a mockery of me.

  But my parents didn’t know that.

  “Ready?” With that one word, Drake drew my eyes to his mouth and my mind went blank. I wasn’t the girl who swooned. I wasn’t the girl who forgot her senses over a boy. Tell that to the ache in my belly.

  “I’ll go to the dance, but I won’t enjoy it. I hate you, Drake.” I bit out the words angrily, but my bitterness didn’t faze Drake one darn bit.

  I was going to this dance. I was going to walk off of this front porch and towards Drake’s convertible and I was going to put on a little show so that Mom and Dad would think I was comfortable and happy and being a normal teenager with a prospective boyfriend.

  He took me by the hand and I almost jerked away, but I glanced back at the window into our living room and saw two sets of eyes watching us leave. So I let Drake touch me. I let our fingers lace together, even though it sent a wave of ill-feelings through my body. A vibration. A trill in my chest. A…

  My body reacted to him, fighting through my anger. That only served to stoke my rage further, until I was seething by the time he opened the passenger door and loosed my hand. “I’m getting in this car with you only because I don’t want my parents to find out what you did. I hate you.”

  I started moving to enter the neon green vehicle and sit down. Without warning, Drake reached behind me and grasped the door, pulling it towards my body and pinning my legs gently against the car frame.

  “What are you doing?” I pushed back against the door, trying to make enough room to extricate myself. Drake didn’t relent.

  Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth against my ear. His breath was warm and smelled minty. “You don’t mean that, Square.” His words were soft, gentle. They went against every single thought I had about this bully of a boy. “You think you mean it, but you don’t.”

  I turned as best I could. He wasn’t holding the door firmly; he wasn’t trying to hurt me with the pressure. I moved fast, not wanting to give him time to retreat. I was going to give him a tongue lashing he’d never forget.

  But instead, exactly because he didn’t have time to shift away, my mouth came to a stop so close to his that all I needed to do was tilt forward the very slightest bit to kiss him. If I wanted to. Not that I wanted to. I froze and I saw his gaze widen almost imperceptibly.

  Drake was the one to move, closing that tiny gap just enough for his lips to brush mine as he spoke. “See, Tarryn. You don’t hate me.”

  His lips against mine tickled and made me squirm. Shivers thrilled through me, and this time I couldn’t pretend that they were a negative visceral reaction to his person. This was pure, physical, impulse. “Get away from me.”

  Drake’s hand fell away from the passenger door and I shoved back from him, nearly losing my balance. He steadied me automatically, both hands slinking around my waist.

  “I said don’t touch me,” I breathed through clenched teeth.

  “Actually, you said ‘get away from me’,” he poked at me, his voice teasing, but his eyes were different… a flash of concern across the silver-blue sea of his gaze.

  “I’m not arguing semantics with you, Drake.”

  “What will you argue about with me? Because,” He moved closer to me again, his hands still touching my waist, “I think I could stand here all night disagreeing with you. Four sides,” he gently moved his hands down several inches to rest along my hips and then he shifted them to my back, “and I like every one of them, Square.”

  “A human being doesn’t have sides,” I said quickly, the words catching in my throat and my breathing uneven. It was such a stupid thing to say. It didn’t even make sense. None of this made sense. I took a deep shuddering breath. “Just let me go, Drake. I’m sure my parents are gawking at the window and we need to leave if we’re going to eat somewhere.”

  I snaked my hands between our bodies and pressed my palms against his chests.

  “All right,” he said, moving his body so that I could finally, mercifully, sit down in the convertible. I let him close the door for me. He leaned over the frame and looked at me. I wanted to look the other direction, but that felt weak. So I returned his stare defiantly. “You’ve got more spark than I thought you would, Tarryn. I might have to reassess your nickname.” Quick as the snake he was, Drake darted forward and kissed my cheek. I slapped my hand upwards against my face, glaring.

  “Enjoy that, asshole. That’s the last time you get close enough to kiss me.”

  Drake shoved his hands in his pockets and whistled as he walked his way around the car. Before getting in, he waved towards my house.

  When I shifted to look, I wasn’t surprised to find Mom standing behind the glass once more, waving back like a crush-addled school girl.

  2.

  T A R R Y N

  “Slow down.”

  “I’m not speeding, Square.”

  “It feels like you are.” I crossed my arms protectively and glared at him.

  “Relax, we’re almost there.” Drake casually lifted his right arm and slung it behind my seat, gripping the material gently. I refused to react to his hand being so close. I was going to play it cool and get through dinner.

  “And where is there?” I leaned away from his hand on the seat, not rea
lly meaning to. Playing it cool was easier said than done.

  “Where’s where, square?” He sing-songed.

  “Stop it,” I bit out, trying to control my voice through clamped teeth. We hadn’t been driving for very long, so the restaurant had to be local.

  He didn’t respond and minutes later he steered the convertible into the parking lot of Castleton Steakhouse. “Figures,” I scoffed under my breath.

  “We can go somewhere else, if you’d rather?” Drake shifted into park, but he didn’t turn the key.

  “No, this is fine,” I said quickly. I didn’t want to spend one second longer than I had to in this car with him. The quarters were too tight, too intimate.

  “Great. John Paul really is the best chef around. You won’t be disappointed.”

  I reached out and gripped the door handle a little too hard, my knuckles going pale. “Drake, if I’m disappointed with dinner, it won’t be because of the food. It’ll be because of the company.”

  “Ouch. Words can hurt worse than weapons, Tarryn.” He placed his hand over his heart and winced playfully.

  I pushed open the door and slammed it behind me, reveling in the loud banging sound. I hoped it bothered Drake. I could tell how much he loved his stupid car.

  When he came around to my side, he leaned against the neon green and crossed his arms. “Look. You can abuse me all you want. Bully me. Taunt me. Glare at me with those giant doe eyes. But,” he waggled a finger, “don’t get mad at the car. She’s done absolutely nothing wrong.”

  “Bully you?” I breathed out in surprise. “Taunt you?” I sputtered, trying to get the words out that I wanted. The right words. Intentional. Direct. Angry. “You’re the bully, Drake. Or have you conveniently forgotten stringing me along through Aiden and lying to me and treating me like total shit?”