Heart Stopper: Rebels of Rushmore Book One

by Hercules, Michelle

  After a minute, he says, “I knew your boyfriend was an ass.”

  “Shut up, Blake. Just shut up.”

  40

  CHARLIE

  Troy doesn’t come home for dinner. I begin to worry and call him. It goes to voice mail. I don’t trust my voice at the moment, so I text him instead. My stomach is tied in knots as I wait for his reply. I get that he’s angry, but why can’t he just talk to me instead of giving me the silent treatment? That’s fucking mean.

  The pasta Bolognese I cooked is now cold and unappealing. If I ate a couple bites, that was a lot. This situation with Troy has taken away my appetite. My heart is too heavy, and my head is too full.

  While I wait for Troy to come home, I put on The Big Bang Theory in the background and work on his character sheet. He told me he wanted to be a fun troll like Shrek. To me that translates as sarcasm and dark humor. I base the character off Fred, hoping he doesn’t notice that Troy will be pretty much acting like him—that is, if Troy still wants to come with me to LARP.

  A pang flares in my chest, followed by insecurity. Did I ruin things between Troy and me already? I hate feeling like this, caught in a whirlpool in the middle of the ocean and not knowing which way is up or down.

  I have to force the words out, glad it’s just a character sheet and not an entire story line. Another five hundred words and I’m done. It’s getting late. I check my phone again for the thousandth time. Still no word from him. Maybe he’s out with his friends, but he told me he might be playing tomorrow. He wouldn’t party the night before a game, would he?

  My heart jumps to my throat at the sound of any car that drives by. This is crazy.

  I wish Troy had let me explain the scene he walked in on earlier. My fingers hover over his name. I want to ask him when he’ll be home, but I don’t want to come across as a clingy girlfriend.

  Annoyed, I toss the phone aside and stare at the TV screen. It’s the scavenger hunt episode, one of my favorites, and yet all the jokes are falling flat.

  Tiredness begins to claim me. My eyes are droopy, and several yawns sneak up on me.

  I lie down, pulling the blanket over me. My glasses get crooked, so I remove them and set them on the coffee table. Penny just told Raj to run back to India. I want to stay up to catch the final scene of Amy and Howard singing Neil Diamond at The Cheesecake Factory, but I don’t.

  * * *

  I wake with a slight shake of my shoulder.

  “Charlie, wake up.”

  I blink my eyes open, and my vision remains blurry for a few more seconds. Finally, Troy’s image sharpens. His hair is damp, and I smell fresh soap and toothpaste wafting from him.

  Did he just shower?

  I sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “What time is it?”

  “It’s past eight.”

  “Past eight? How is that possible? When I lay down, it was already ten.”

  “It’s past eight in the morning.”

  “What?” I glance at the window, noticing then the light pouring through the blinds. “I slept on the couch? Why didn’t you wake me when you got home?”

  “It was late, and you looked too peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  I get up in a huff, annoyed that Troy let me sleep on the couch even if his explanation makes sense. I would have done the same thing for him. Truth be told, my irritation has a different source. He probably thinks I fell asleep on the couch, waiting for him, which is so not the case.

  Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  He’s already wearing a jacket, and his duffel bag is by the front door. “Are you leaving?”

  “Yeah, I have to be at the stadium early.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. His sling is gone.

  “So you are playing today.”

  “Yeah. Probably not for the entire game though.”

  The atmosphere surrounding us is thick and uncomfortable with the weight of words unspoken. I can’t let him go without talking first.

  “Are we okay?” I blurt out, not beating around the bush.

  He doesn’t speak for several moments, but his hard eyes remain locked on my face. “I want us to be.”

  I breach the distance between us, even though there’s nothing welcoming about his stance. “What you saw yesterday was a friend consoling me. Nothing more.”

  “And I believe you, Charlie. But there isn’t a single guy on this planet who would be okay with their girlfriend being best friends with their ex.”

  “Are you saying you don’t trust me?”

  “I don’t trust him.” His eyebrows pinch together.

  “Well, then trusting me has to be enough,” I retort angrily. “Please don’t ask me to pick between you and Blake, or any of my other guy friends for that matter.”

  A muscle in Troy’s jaw twitches. “I have no issue with you being friends with guys, Charlie. That’s not the problem. How would you feel if I started hanging out with Brooke?”

  My heart bleeds at the thought. “That’s not the same thing. She wants you back!”

  Troy takes a step back, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can’t have this conversation with you right now. I’m already running late.”

  He bends over and grabs the strap of his duffel bag.

  “What about tonight? Do you still want me to come to Andreas’s Halloween party?”

  God, why do I sound so pathetic?

  He gives me a quizzical look, and then, forgetting his duffel bag, he steps into my space. He reaches for the back of my head right before he crushes his lips to mine. He kisses me hard and fast, and then, leaning his forehead against mine, he whispers against my lips, “I want you to come. Very much so.”

  I curl my fingers around his T-shirt, afraid he’ll move away. “Good.”

  I kiss him again, not satisfied with the first one. Troy doesn’t end it abruptly like before; he takes his time, savoring my mouth like I’m savoring his. When we finally break apart, we’re both a little breathless.

  “Was this our first fight as a couple?” I ask.

  He chuckles and rubs my cheek with his thumb. “I guess so. Too bad we don’t have time for makeup sex.”

  “I guess we’ll have to save that for later.” I wink at him, feeling a million times better.

  His eyes become hooded and locked on my lips. “Yeah.”

  I’m not stupid to think this issue is over. I have no plans to cut Blake out of my life, but maybe I need to establish new boundaries. I understand Troy’s point of view, and if the situation were reversed, I’d probably be more consumed by jealousy than him.

  “By the way, what are you wearing tonight?” I ask.

  “Oh, Andy, Danny, Paris, and I are going as the Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”

  “Who is Paris?”

  “A guy on the team. You haven’t met him yet.”

  “And what does your costume entail?”

  “An all-black ensemble and skull-painted faces.”

  “That’s cool. I didn’t know you knew how to put makeup on.” I smirk.

  Troy flashes me a toothy grin. “I was hoping you would do it. Of course, if you’re busy with your own costume, I’m sure Andy can find another volunteer.”

  “Hell to the no! I mean, he can get whoever he wants to do his makeup, but no one touches you but me.”

  Troy’s smile grows wider. “That’s my girl.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and curses. “Shit. I am late. Coach will have my balls.”

  He heads for the door, then stops before walking out to look over his shoulder. “I’d kiss you goodbye, but that would probably make me even later.”

  “It’s okay, babe. My kisses don’t expire.”

  A different emotion crosses his eyes, and I get the impression he wants to tell me something, but all he does is smile before he walks out.

  The moment he leaves, my chest becomes heavy again. I rub the spot, trying to soothe the phantom pain away. We parted ways on a positive note, so why the hell do I still feel like the worst of the
storm is yet to come?

  41

  CHARLIE

  I watch Troy’s game on TV and try not to think about the fact that he didn’t ask me to come this time. Was it because he knows I’m not a sports fan, or maybe he secretly regrets me coming the last time? I know my thoughts are irrational and have no merit, but when the camera shows Brooke’s face in the crowd, jealousy makes me see red. Her being there might not be because she’s still trying to win Troy back. She might enjoy football for real. But that doesn’t comfort me. Maybe I should have been a better girlfriend and asked for tickets.

  I turn off the TV and stomp to my room. I never asked Troy if Brooke had been invited to Andreas’s party, but I’m going to assume she was. I didn’t have the chance to put her in her place when I caught her with Troy the last time, but if I see her tonight, all bets are off. What she did was fucked up. Getting drunk and coming on to Troy while I was somewhere in that party. Never mind her cunt of a friend who called Ben names.

  This year was the first that I didn’t think of a creative Halloween costume. My parents’ issue and Troy have kept my mind distracted. It isn’t a real problem when half my closet is filled with cosplay outfits, though most of them aren’t sexy enough for tonight’s party. I only have one that will do. I pull the zipper of the garment bag down and run my hand over the smooth red velvet fabric of Raven the Sorceress’s dress. It hugs my curves in all the right places and has a plunging neckline that’s made to make men go crazy. She’s the master of seduction in our game, a reformed bad girl, per se.

  I take my time in getting ready, knowing Troy won’t be home for hours. I have a towel wrapped over my head and my body snuggled in my fuzzy robe when I hear the doorbell ring.

  Ah crap. Who can it be?

  I decide to ignore it, but it rings again.

  Shit. I’d better see who it is.

  I make sure to tiptoe down the stairs, just in case whoever is outside isn’t someone I want to make aware I’m home. I look through the peephole and see Jane standing there.

  Doesn’t she know Troy has a game?

  I open the door a fraction, hiding half my body behind it. “Hi, Jane. What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “I just got out of the shower. You know Troy is at the game, right?”

  “Yeah, but I actually came to see you. Can I come in?

  “Sure.” I step away and let her through. This is the first time I’ve been alone with her, and I’m feeling a little self-conscious to be standing naked under my robe. I pull the lapels closer.

  “You must think my visit is super strange, but I have two reasons for being here.”

  “All right. What are they?”

  “I want to see the prop Fred made of me.” She sounds eager.

  “He didn’t make it. His father owns a company that does that for movies.”

  “Gotcha. So, can I see it?”

  “Of course, but let me warn you, it’s pretty disturbing.” I walk to the closet under the stairs where we stored the box.

  “Oh, I’m a horror movie enthusiast. Didn’t Troy tell you?”

  I wrinkle my nose. “He didn’t mention it, but maybe it’s because I’m the opposite. I’m slowly going through the first season of Supernatural, which, according to him, is the scariest of them all.”

  Jane laughs. “Oh my God. Supernatural is not scary.”

  “It is to me.” I lift the box and then bring it to the kitchen counter. “Here. Have fun.”

  Jane opens the box like a kid opening a Christmas present. She carefully pulls the head out, then smiles from ear to ear at the sight. “Oh my God. This is awesome.”

  “Why did Troy think you would have a problem with it?”

  She scowls. “Because my brother still thinks I’m a little kid.”

  “It’s because of what happened to your brother, huh?”

  “Yeah.” Jane’s voice grows sadder. My clue to change the subject.

  “What was the second thing you wanted from me?”

  Her grim expression vanishes, and there’s now the hint of a smile on her face. “Oh, I wanted to ask if you could do my makeup for Halloween. Troy mentioned you were doing his.”

  When did Troy have time to tell her that? I just volunteered for the job this morning. I don’t voice my question though. I don’t want her to think I don’t want to help her.

  “Sure. But I warn you, I’m not a professional by any means.”

  “As long as you’re better than me.”

  “What’s your costume?”

  “Harley Quinn in the classic black-and-red jumpsuit. I was thinking you could paint my face white and black around the eyes. I want to be unrecognizable.”

  “That sounds simple enough. Do you have a big party at your high school?”

  “Something like that. It’s not at my high school. Someone is throwing a party. Don’t let my brother know or he might tell my mother.”

  I don’t like that Jane is asking me to keep stuff from Troy, but in this case, I have to agree with her. He’s a little too medieval when it comes to her.

  “I won’t tell. I promise.”

  “Awesome.” She grins. “Oh, one more thing. Can you take a picture of me with the head?”

  I laugh. “Sure.”

  If Fred were here to witness this, he might fall in love with Jane on the spot. But I won’t tell him this happened. The last thing I need is one of my friends getting involved with Jane.

  * * *

  Jane is long gone by the time Troy comes home from the game. I’m still wearing my robe, but my makeup and hair are done. He comes straight to my room and sweeps me off my feet while crashing his mouth to mine.

  “Troy! You’re going to ruin my makeup.”

  “Fine. I won’t kiss you on the mouth, then.” He starts to fumble with my robe, pulling the lapels apart while the sash is still in a knot. “Please tell me you’re naked under this.”

  “Yes. Oh my God, what’s with you? Is this a postgame shot of libido thing?”

  His rough hands cover my breasts, kneading them while he flicks my nipples with his thumbs. “Don’t you know sports make men hornier?”

  “I never dated a jock before, so the answer is no, I didn’t know.”

  “Well, babe, you’re soon going to find out there are more perks to dating a jock than a hot bod.” He unties the sash but doesn’t bother to remove the robe before he drops to his knees and parts my folds with his hand.

  “Troy….” My voice comes out strangled.

  Our eyes meet, and I swear I melt under his heated gaze. I run my fingers through his hair, needing some type of anchor. He kisses each side of my thighs, and then he licks my clit, drawing a loud moan from me. With each sweep of his tongue and playful bite, he drives me crazy. My legs can barely support my weight. Troy must have sensed that because he keeps a firm hold on them.

  My head is getting dizzy, and suddenly, the room begins to spin. I close my eyes while I try to cling to the sweet moment just before an orgasm, but Troy’s caresses are merciless, and when he sucks my clit into his mouth, I lose the battle against my body. I yank his hair and cry out as I attempt to ride the wave of pleasure without collapsing to the floor.

  My body is still shaking when Troy unfurls from his kneeling position, picks me up, and almost runs to my bed. A moment later, he’s inside me, fucking me so hard that I begin to see stars again in a matter of minutes.

  42

  TROY

  It was almost impossible to leave the house. When Charlie walked down the stairs, wearing her LARP costume, I couldn’t control myself. I dragged her to the couch and begged her to ride me. Now I’m about to park in front of Andreas’s building and I’m sporting another boner. All it took was a glimpse of Charlie’s golden leg peeking out from the slit in her skirt.

  “Ready?” I ask in a gruff voice.

  “Yeah.” Her eyes drop to my crotch. “Oh, babe. Again? Did you accidentally take Viagra?”
<
br />   “No, that’s all you, darling, and that dress.”

  She glances outside where a few people wearing costumes are walking in and out of the building. The whole campus is one big Halloween party.

  “I could help you out.” She reaches for my zipper.

  “Oh my God, Charlie. I love you.”

  Her hand stops, her eyes rounding as she stares at me. Neither of us speaks for a moment. I don’t dare to breathe.

  What the hell did I just do?

  “You love me?” she asks, breaking the silence.

  “Hmm.” I rub the back of my neck, tongue-tied all of a sudden. How fucking ironic.

  “Troy?”

  I look away, leaning my head against the car seat. “Fuck. I swore I wouldn’t open my big mouth. Please don’t get weird on me.”

  She reaches for my hand. “Why would I do that? I mean, my hands are magical. They get guys to tell me they love me all the time.”

  There’s humor in her tone, but even so, her comment triggers my jealousy. Frowning, I turn to her. “Please don’t say that, not even as a joke.”

  She leans across the gap and kisses me softly on the lips.

  “You’re going to ruin your makeup,” I whisper.

  “I don’t care.” She eases off and stares into my eyes. “Were you scared to confess your feelings to me?”

  “Afraid I would freak you out? Yeah.” I run a hand through my hair. “This is all new to me. I’ve never felt this way before. Unsteady, unraveled.”

  “I feel the same way,” she murmurs.

  “You do?”

  She nods. “I think I’ve spent the past few weeks equal parts terrified and ecstatic. When I look at you, it almost hurts, like a sweet agony. You rob me of air, Troy.”

  My heart skips a beat. She might not have said “I love you”, but fuck if that doesn’t come close enough.

  I reach behind her head, tangling my fingers in her hair. Then I lean closer but stop short of kissing her, remembering the reason I can’t. “Damn it. Curse my stupid idea to wear skull paint on my face tonight.”