by K. Webster
Truth is, I saw him plenty today. I didn’t have any altercations in the parking lot like yesterday, but the Hoodlums did give me shit. I guess my showing them up on the court yesterday didn’t sit too well. The school day was almost over today when I was called into my aunt’s office where Coach Rendell was asking if I wanted to join the team. It’d been surreal and I said yes, because for the first time since I’d moved to Hood River, I felt wanted.
“Don’t you have attics to clean?” I grumble, the venom missing in my words.
“I’d much rather bug you.”
I let my eyes skim over his appearance again. He didn’t take a shower after practice today, no doubt knowing Aunt Karen would make him do dirty, sweaty chores. My mouth waters as I wonder how salty he would taste if I ran my tongue up the side of his throat.
“You should have eaten lunch, rat,” he says, releasing the doorframe to step into my room. “You’re looking awfully hungry.”
The air seems charged, but I don’t say anything to make it spark.
“Dinner will be ready in an hour,” Aunt Karen chirps, making us both startle as she peeks her head in the door. “Roan, hon, I was thinking instead of the attic, you could dismantle my desk and move it into my bedroom. I’m hoping to give Hollis a little more space.” She winks at me.
“Yeah,” Roan says, “I’ll get right on it.”
She leaves us and he saunters the rest of the way into the room. His attention is on the desk as he inspects it. My phone continues to buzz, no doubt texts from Lucas, but I’m no longer mad at him. I’d much rather watch Roan take apart a desk while I imagine him taking my ass over it.
He leaves, and I’m assuming to grab tools. I take the moment to gather my wits and reply back to Lucas’s texts.
Lucas: It’s nothing serious.
Lucas: You’re not mad are you?
Lucas: I like Eric, but we don’t have the connection you and I did.
Lucas: If you hadn’t moved away, you know it would be you.
Lucas: Text me back when you’re not pissed at me.
He then sends a picture of his abs as though that will fix everything. When we’d been dating in secret, we sent dirty pictures back and forth a lot. I’d enjoyed the thrill back then, but his abs are just abs to me. I don’t have the spike in body temperature or the rapid beating of my heart or the instant hard-on. No, my body responds to one guy in particular now. My fuck-hot enemy.
Me: We’re cool. Just have to study. Talk soon. Tell Eric I said hi.
I leave it at that. He responds with smiling emojis. I’m feeling slightly sorry for myself when Roan enters the room. He tosses the tools on the bed beside me and then sets to pulling stuff off Aunt Karen’s desk.
“Need help?” I ask, my eyes roaming down his muscular back and to his nice ass.
“Nope.”
“Fine, I’ll just watch.”
He looks over his shoulder and smirks, sending a ripple of heat rushing through my veins. “Suit yourself.”
Annoyed at my eagerness to stare at him, I snatch my algebra book out of my bag and start to work on my homework. “Did you already do the assignment in Henley’s class?”
Roan laughs. “No.”
“Do you plan on doing it?”
“Fuck no.”
“It’s worth twenty-five points.”
“So?”
“So you kinda need this class to graduate.”
“I’ll pass.”
He’s getting pissy now, tossing stuff onto the floor off the desk. One thing I’m learning about Roan is when you poke at his touchy subjects, he responds with defensive anger.
“I could help you,” I offer.
He jerks his head my way, a sneer on his face. “In trade for what?”
“Why does there have to be a trade? Why can’t I just help you?”
“I don’t want your help.” He snags up a small Allen wrench and kneels to start with the first screw.
“You could be nice to me. That’s a fair trade,” I grumble.
“I’m already being nice.”
I scoff. “This is your version of nice? Maybe I ought to tutor you in that department too.”
At this, he laughs. The sound is throaty and goes right to my dick. “This house is neutral ground. I already told you.”
Oh, God. He’s being serious. This is as nice as he gets.
“I could fix your dent,” he says, his back to me.
Fix my dent?
“On my car?”
He nods and shoots me a serious look. “Jordy’s brother owns a garage. Sometimes when they’re overloaded, I go in and help. The money’s under the table, but it helps me save it away for when Roux and I get the hell out of here.”
“Where are you going?”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “Not far since I still need Ms. Frazier to help her. But an apartment of our own.”
“What about your parents?”
“Dad’s in prison,” he states in an icy tone. “Mom is unfit as fuck.”
I think about my mom and how wonderful she is. How she gave up her entire life and marriage to protect me from my father’s anger. It makes my chest ache to think of her not loving or caring about me. No wonder Roan is such a dick.
“So you think you’d be awarded custody?”
“I don’t know. It’s not like Mom would fight me on it.”
Tossing the book to the side, I stand and walk over to him. “I can help you. Here. Whenever you finish what you do for my aunt. If you really are planning to take care of Roux, you can’t fuck up school.”
He rolls his eyes and his jaw clenches. “You sound like Ms. Frazier.”
“Maybe because it’s sound advice you need to hear.”
“I don’t accept help for free. So let me fix the dent and we’ll be even.”
“Deal,” I agree. “But you can’t be an asshole. Let me help you without all this grumpiness.”
“No deal. I can’t change who I am.”
I step closer, drawn to his salty scent. “Then here, when it’s just the two of us, change for me. You said it was neutral ground. Let it be neutral. Drop the tough guy act. I’m not some dick who’s going to exploit you.”
He grits his teeth and pokes my chest. “People aren’t nice for no reason.”
“There’s a reason,” I tell him, my voice husky. “We both know my reason.”
Him.
His lips press together to form a thin line as his copper eyes study me. I take note that his skin turns slightly pink. Beneath all the asshole exterior is a vulnerable boy curious about the one in front of him. It gives me hope. If I can crack him, maybe he’ll let me in.
Why do I want to be let in?
Because he’s different. I’m drawn to him. He’s fucking hot. So hot it hurts a little to look at him sometimes. I want his smiles directed my way. I’ve never wanted a guy in my entire life as much as I want Roan.
“I know you’re not gay,” I tell him boldly.
“You don’t know shit.”
My brow lifts. “Sidney said you two…er, dated.”
“We fucked,” he says bluntly. “Plenty of times. She’s not my type, though.”
“What is your type?”
“Not her.”
“Are you bi?”
“I’m nothing.”
His words, spoken softly and with such pain, cut into me. Not a gory slash. The kind that dives deep, slicing through every internal organ along the way. With every pulse of my heart, I bleed for him.
“You’re not nothing.” I step closer and lift my chin to look at him. We’re inches apart. Any other guy and I would’ve already made my move. I feel the heat that burns hot between us, but he’s too brittle. I have an urge to protect him. Even from me.
He leans in, bringing his mouth close to my ear, brushing it barely. “Careful, rat, I might think you care.”
His awful nickname for me doesn’t feel awful at all. It’s a breathy caress. An endearment.
“Have
you ever kissed a guy?” My words tumble from my lips in a whisper.
“No.” Then, in a way meant to hurt me, he says, “Don’t plan on it either.”
I’m not scared away, though. If anything, it makes me want to taunt him further. Make him face what he feels deep inside, because clearly it’s not far off from how I feel. We may hate each other, but our bodies sure as hell haven’t gotten the memo.
“I kissed girls before,” I reveal, my voice low. I bring two fingers to his lips and ghost them over his flesh. “Too soft.”
His amber eyes flare like a ball of flames, but he doesn’t move away. Simply pins me in place with his hot glare.
“But guys,” I murmur. “Guys have just enough roughness. Scruff. Edge.” I lift my gaze from his mouth. “Meanness. They aren’t sweet like girls.”
“I’m not kissing you, rat,” he says in a husky tone. “No matter how much you try to seduce me.”
A grin tugs at my lips. His bronze orbs fall to my mouth, catching a glimpse of it and lingering. “Pity because I’ve been told I’m a great kisser.”
“By Lucas?”
The name has me jolting in pain, but the look on Roan’s face erases it. Barely masked jealousy. I’m not sure why this thrills me, but it does.
“And others.”
“Girls or guys?”
“Both.”
My thumb brushes his bottom lip this time, pulling the soft flesh to the side. His facial scruff scratches against my palm. It’s exhilarating touching him. I’m liking “neutral ground.” His hand reaches up, gripping my wrist hard. He doesn’t pull me away, though.
“Did you fuck all those people?”
“Just Lucas.”
Satisfaction glimmers over his features. I want to dissect his mind. Ask him a thousand questions. Figure out every part of him that makes him tick.
His lips part, and without hesitation, I press my thumb inside. The heat of his mouth sends pleasure tingling right to my dick. I’m hard and aching with need. He bites down on the tip of my thumb. Not painfully. Just a statement. That he has me. I don’t think he even realizes he stakes such a claim.
“Boys,” Aunt Karen calls out. “Come eat!”
I jerk my hand back and turn toward the window, hiding my boner, right as she makes her way into my room.
“Oh, good, you’ve got the desk cleared and ready to be taken apart.” Then, to me she says, “Hollis, hon, I made your favorite. Chili enchiladas.”
“Thanks, Aunt Karen.” I flash her a brief smile. “Be down in a second.” My stomach twists violently at the idea of eating chili anything.
She leaves and I catch Roan watching me with an unreadable expression. His guard is back up and his features are stony. Awesome. Back to square one.
“I’m so proud of you,” Mom says, reaching over the table and ruffling my hair. “And surprised. I didn’t think you’d try out.” She bites on her bottom lip, refraining from saying the rest. Your dad would be so proud of you too.
“You can thank Roan. He made it happen.”
Roan nearly chokes on his enchilada. He sucks down some tea and shoots me an annoyed look.
“How wonderful,” Mom tells him. “Thank you for inviting him. You’ve been great to my children and I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”
Roan’s cheeks turn redder than I’ve ever seen them. “It’s fine.”
“Roan’s a good big brother,” Roux tells her, pride in her tone. “When he finishes school, we’re going to live in our own house.”
Roan tenses and shoots her a look that has her shoulders slouching.
“What about your parents?” Mom asks.
Roan’s jaw ticks and I can tell he’s freaking out. So I save him. Neutral ground and all.
“Did you say you got cupcakes?” I waggle my brows at Mom.
She affixes her fake smile because she can sense the air is charged and I’m begging her to move on. “Duh,” she says, rolling her eyes, looking much younger than her thirty-eight years. “There’s a little bakery right next to the bank. When Karen told me about you making the team, I picked some up. There are all different flavors to choose from.” Then, to Roan, she smiles. “If you let me know your favorite, honey, I’ll make sure to get some for next time.”
“Roux loves chocolate like me,” Charlotte says, her mouth full of half-chewed enchiladas.
“I only like the icing,” Penny tells us grumpily. “Like Daddy.”
Mom and I deflate at her words. Sometimes it’s as though we’re the same person. Our moods are that similar.
“You can have my icing,” I offer, knowing full and damn well I’m not eating those cupcakes. My stomach is seizing violently at the few bites of spicy enchiladas. “For my favorite sister.”
“Hey!” Charlotte growls. “I’m the favorite.”
Penny sticks her tongue out at her. “No, you’re not!”
As they argue over who the favorite is—not that either cares about being favorite, just that they like to win—I lock eyes with Roan. His angry mask has fallen and he seems relaxed. I try not to obsess over the fact he looks good sitting at the table with my family. Like he belongs with us. Such a dumbass thing for a guy to think about another guy he met only days ago.
His easy smile fades when he looks down at my plate. Coppery brown eyes flash with anger, confusing me. Why the hell does he care what I do or don’t eat?
“When is Daddy coming to see us?” Penny asks Mom, jerking me from my internal thought.
“I spoke with him today,” Mom says with false cheer. “As soon as he gets a few days off. He can’t wait to see you. Maybe later you can call him and talk about it.”
Penny nods, revealing a rare smile.
The food I did manage to consume roils in my gut. It feels as though my stomach is on fire. Nerves. Worry. Stress. They seem to settle there and pulsate with energy. I grab my glass of tea and gulp it down, hoping to put out the internal fire. All it does is make me want to throw up.
Dad is coming.
Sooner rather than later.
I dread that day with every fiber of my being.
Roan
“I have to pee.”
I crack my eyes open and stare up at Roux’s sleepy face. “What time is it?”
“Time to pee.”
“Smartass.”
She laughs. “I can’t move that thing on my own.”
With a grumble that she woke my ass up at four in the morning, I climb out of bed and walk over to the dresser. Last night, after Ms. Frazier dropped us off, we made a beeline straight for our room. Alejandro was partying with some of his friends and I didn’t want to deal with any of them.
I move the dresser out of the way, and she bolts into the bathroom. Leaning against the wall next to the bathroom, I wait for her. Music plays from the living room, but I imagine everyone’s gone home or passed out. I’m yawning when I sense a presence.
Alejandro.
“Fucking pussy decided to come out of his cage?” he sneers, taking a menacing step toward me.
“Mom!” I bark out. “Call off your dog.”
Alejandro’s lip curls up. “She’s out.”
“Mom! Wake up!”
“Not asleep, dumbass. Out.”
Where in the fuck would she be at four in the morning?
“Leave us alone,” I warn.
Roux opens the door and steps out behind me. Alejandro’s eyes drop to her and he grins like a motherfucking wolf about to devour a bunny.
“Go to our room,” I hiss at her.
“Roan.” Her whine of terror is my undoing.
“Go!”
She scurries off and slams our bedroom door shut. I wish she were strong enough to move the dresser. Fisting my hands, I square my shoulders and glare at Alejandro.
“Leave us the hell alone.”
“This is my home, boy,” he sneers. “My rules.”
“Last time I checked, it’s HUD housing under Mom’s name and you’re not even supposed
to be here.” I take a step forward, cracking my neck, ready to beat this motherfucker’s ass if need be.
His dilated pupils glimmer with hate and then he rushes me. I barely get a swing before I’m shoved into the wall, something cold digging beneath my jawbone at my throat.
“I could blow your fucking head off right now,” he threatens, grinding the barrel harder into my flesh. “Make your sister clean your brain matter off the wall.”
“You’d go to prison,” I spit back at him.
“So?”
“You don’t think my old man won’t find you and gut you like the pig you are for killing his son?”
His eyes narrow, but I know he contemplates my words. My dad is a mean bastard. Alejandro is nothing in comparison. With a cool expression, he takes a step backward. And then with a hard swing, he pistol whips me with his gun.
Pain explodes across my cheek and I stumble. He cracks me over the back of the head with the gun, sending me hurtling to the floor. I groan and blink away the dazed feeling. When I hear a scream, I get on my hands and knees, adrenaline fueling me. I rush into the room after him, ignoring the dizziness. Alejandro, with his gun in hand, swats at Roux like she’s a pesky little sister and they’re playing. This fucker is twisted, so I don’t want him playing anything with Roux. I tackle him, sending him crashing into the dresser. He snarls as I start wailing punches on his back. I manage to get one good one to his head and knock his ass out. With a grunt, I drag him out of our room and into Mom’s. Once the door is shut, I make my way back into our room, pushing the dresser back into place. I hide the gun under the mattress. The room spins and I crash into the end table, knocking over the lamp.
Roux is crying, but I’m so fucking tired.
I fall onto the bed now that she’s safe and pass out.
My head is killing me.
The voice on repeat is making it worse.
“Roan! Roan! Roan!”
Roux.
I force my eyes open. My sister sits beside me on the bed, sobbing. She hands me my phone.
“Who is it?” I croak. “Hello?”
“Oh, Roan, honey, thank God.”
“Mom?”
“No, baby, it’s Kelsey. Roux called the house phone crying. Hollis and I are on the way to come get you.”
