The Princess and The Jester: A High School Bully Romance (Westbrook Three Book 3)

by A. D. McCammon

  “That’s very sweet, my love.” She clears her throat and focuses on the road again, wiping a tear from her cheek. “But there will be plenty of time for you to be a man. You’re only six years old. And I’m afraid there are laws against child labor.”

  “No one would know,” I protest. “They could pay me under the table.”

  I don’t really understand what that means, but a couple of places offered to pay her this way. When I asked her about it, she said it meant they wanted her to work for them without the government knowing. I’m not sure why they care who she’s working for.

  Momma huffs out a laugh. “You’ll be too busy with school anyway.”

  I groan, hating the thought of going back to school. “I’m almost seven, you know.”

  “Did I tell you they have a pool?” Mom asks, completely ignoring me.

  Her distraction works, and I perk up. “Really?”

  I haven’t been swimming all summer. One of the motels we stayed at had a pool, but it was green and smelly like a swamp.

  “Uh huh,” she hums. “And…we’re here.” She puts on her turn signal and pulls into a driveway.

  My eyes widen as the house comes into view. It’s huge. The biggest one I’ve ever seen. “Oh my gosh, you didn’t tell me we were moving into a castle.”

  Mom giggles. “It does look a little like a castle, doesn’t it?” She takes a deep breath as she parks the car, smiling at me. “Are you ready to start our new adventure?”

  Nodding eagerly, I unbuckle my seatbelt and rush out of the car. Mom grabs some bags from the backseat before heading toward the front door with me right behind her. As we reach the door, a woman opens it, greeting us with a big smile.

  “Hello, Lydia.” My body stiffens as her gaze slides to me. “And this must be little Nicolas.”

  “Cole,” I correct.

  Momma named me Nicolas after my dad, but everyone calls me Cole.

  She gives my shoulder a squeeze—the only reminder I’ll get to watch my manners.

  “My apologies, Cole. It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Nina.” She offers me her hand like I’m an adult, and I shake it as a man steps out behind her. “And this is my husband, Mark.”

  “Hey there, little man.”

  “I’m not little,” I argue, shaking his hand as well. “I was the tallest boy in my class last year. And the doctor told Momma I’d break height records when I was still in her belly. I’ll be taller than you one day.”

  Mark chuckles, taking my mom’s bags from her. “You and Gwen are going to get along perfectly. Let’s go inside and see if we can find her.”

  Mom and I follow them inside. Our footsteps echo as we enter the large space. It has shiny floors, tall white walls, and a big crystal thing hanging from the high ceiling above our heads. I’ve been in a few hotels downtown with Momma when she was looking for work. They were big and nice, like this place, but we never got to stay for long. They would usually take one look at me before sending her away. It’s hard to believe we’ll be living here. The entryway is bigger than most of the rooms we’ve stayed in.

  “Gwen, darling,” Nina calls up the long staircase for her daughter. “Come down, please. Lydia and Cole are here.”

  A few seconds later, a girl with dark hair wearing a crown and a poofy pink dress walks down the steps. I guess the castle has a real live princess too.

  Her lips spread into a smile as she walks toward me, and it makes my stomach feel funny.

  I frown back.

  “Gwen,” her mother places a hand on her back, edging her closer to me, “this is Cole, Lydia’s son.”

  “Hello,” she tries, her hand lifting to wave at me.

  When I don’t respond, my mother nudges me. “Don’t be rude, son.”

  “Hi,” I grumble, offering her my hand the way her parents had done me.

  Her cheeks turn pink, her hand hesitating to take mine. Wanting to get this over with, I grab it and shake it. The contact shocks me, like when I drag my feet on the carpet and zap my mother. I quickly pull away, wiping my palm on my cargo shorts.

  “Gwen, why don’t you show Cole around while we get Lydia all moved in?” Nina suggests.

  I look at my mom with wide eyes, begging her to save me. She narrows hers in return before giving Nina and Gwen a bright smile. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

  Mom pats my head as she walks off with Nina and Mark, leaving me alone with Gwen.

  The girl chews on her lip and eyes me, the pink on her cheeks going red as she shifts side-to-side. “Do you like popcorn?”

  My forehead bunches at her odd question. “What?”

  “There’s a popcorn machine in the theater room,” she explains.

  My stomach rumbles at the mention of food, the granola bar I’d eaten this morning long gone. “What the heck is a theater room?”

  “You know. Where we watch movies.”

  What kind of house has a special room just to watch movies? This place is awesome.

  “Is there soda too?” I ask.

  She nods, the smile from a moment ago returning to her face. “And candy.”

  Maybe this place won’t be so bad.

  “Show me the way, Princess Gwen.”

  Chapter Three

  Present

  GWEN

  My limbs are heavy with exhaustion, the pounding in my head excruciating as I get ready to face the day. There’d be no point in staying in bed. Sleep evaded me all night. Knowing Cole was right down the hall left me on edge. The lock on my door provided no sense of comfort or security, and I found myself listening for him, jumping out of my skin any time there was the slightest creak in the floor.

  When my parents arrived home around midnight, I was finally able to close my eyes. Only to wake every thirty minutes with the sensation someone was watching me, my heart racing while my eyes flew around the room. There was never anyone there. It was merely Cole’s presence looming over me.

  I still have no clue why he’s here or how long he plans to stay. The prospect of him living with us again is terrifying. Cole hasn’t exactly hidden his hatred for me over the last two years. If he found out I lied to get closer to him, there’s sure to be retribution. He isn’t exactly the forgiving type and would never give me the chance to explain why I’d done it.

  Convincing my parents to kick him out would be virtually impossible, though. Cole and his mother moved in when we were only six years old. He grew up in this house, and my parents think of him as family. For all they know, Cole still loves and protects me like a brother. They don’t know how much things have changed between us since he moved out. But they’d likely take his side anyway.

  If they only knew about all the nights he snuck into my room.

  I inhale deep and slow to calm my erratic heart, giving myself one more glance in the mirror. It’s amazing, the time and effort girls put in to look as if they don’t care about their appearance. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I put just enough concealer and powder on to hide the dark circles under my eyes. Then I add eyeliner, mascara, and some lip balm with a slight pink tint.

  The outfit I choose is a giant middle finger to Cole: the shortest pair of running shorts I own, paired with a T-shirt I stole from Cory during a party at Aidan’s house. He may hate me, but the thought of me with someone else will drive him crazy. All boys are the same, instinctively possessive. We were each other’s firsts. As far as he’s concerned, I’ll always be his. Even if he doesn’t want me anymore.

  My hands are shaky as I walk out of my room, but it’s stemming from adrenaline more than fear. The smell of something cooking hits me while I head down the stairs, and my heart stutters at the sound of Cole’s voice coming from the kitchen. He’s talking and laughing with my parents, clearly having a joyous reunion.

  My mother greets me with a smile when I enter the room and silently waves me over to the kitchen table, her mouth full of the breakfast that’s been whipped up for them. Cole turns away from the stove, his stare heat
ing my skin as I make my way in. The bastard isn’t wearing a shirt, only a pair of gray sweatpants hanging from his slim hips. He looks like a freaking GQ ad standing there, with a spatula in his hand.

  His lips curl as if he’s read my thoughts. “Good morning, Princess.”

  A fire lights in my belly and I avert my eyes back to my mom. She squeals with excitement as I take the seat across from her.

  “Isn’t it so wonderful to have him back home?” she gushes. “He even made your favorite breakfast.”

  A plate full of French toast hot off the stove is placed in front of me before Cole plops down next to me with his own. His chair scoots closer to mine as he reaches for the syrup, his other hand landing on my thigh. My core pulses from the contact, my breathing labored from the tightness in my chest.

  He grabs the bottle and his palm slides up, his fingertips sweeping under the bottom hem of my shorts. My eyes shoot across the table to my parents, who are obliviously devouring their meal, before connecting with Cole’s.

  “Soaked?” he asks.

  My eyes widen, my cheeks flaring from his husky tone. “Excuse me?”

  His lips curl as he holds up the bottle of syrup and begins to pour some on my plate. “Your French toast, do you still like them drenched?”

  “Goodness, no,” my mom answers for me. “She doesn’t need all that extra sugar.”

  My gaze falls with embarrassment, but Cole squeezes my leg and continues to pour. “I disagree. I think a little extra sweetness would do her some good.”

  My mom giggles. “Fair point.”

  My French toast is covered with maple goodness by the time he moves on to his own plate, removing his hand from my body once he begins to dig in.

  When he notices I’m barely picking at my food, he leans over and whispers in my ear. “You’re going to eat every last bite, even if I have to personally feed it to you.”

  My eyes cut over to him as he pulls back, the lump in my throat growing larger. Cole was the only person who noticed when I stopped eating and started throwing up at thirteen. And he’s still the only person who knows about that time in my life.

  I scoop up a big bite on my fork and shovel it into my mouth, chewing like a cow. A smile breaks across his face as he pats my head, and I’m not sure if I want to hug him or punch him.

  An hour later, my parents are on their way into the city and I’m in the kitchen cleaning up the mess Cole made from breakfast. My mother was gracious enough to volunteer me for the job before her departure. At least the excruciatingly uncomfortable meal served a purpose. I know now why he’s staying with us and for how long.

  The good news is this situation isn’t permanent. The bad news is he’ll be here all summer. I’m not sure my heart is strong enough for three days of being around him all the time; three months just might kill me.

  My parents never even considered me in the decision. Not that they had any reason to believe it would upset me. Telling them about my “falling out” with Cole would mean telling them everything. And I couldn’t do that. As far as they’re concerned, we’re still close.

  Being here alone with Cole is unnerving. He disappeared about twenty minutes before my parents left. I have no clue where he is or what he’s doing. There was a time when I knew Cole would never do anything to hurt me. But I’m not so certain anymore. Not after everything I’ve heard about him; about the three of them. Cole and his best friends—Thatcher and Arwen—became known as the Westbrook Three after systematically taking down anyone who wronged them. Kids that once evoked fear from their peers suddenly began cowering down to the three of them.

  We only know for sure what they want us to, but it’s never stopped the rumors from flowing. Some were easier to prove fact over fiction. The black eyes, broken noses, and busted lips were hard to hide. But the more ominous tales of blackmail and seduction were tougher to corroborate. Those that’d been targeted weren’t exactly willing to talk about what happened.

  Not knowing what he’s capable of is the very thing that scares me. If he figures out what I did, there’s no telling what he might do.

  “The Cole you knew is gone. If I were you, I’d steer clear of the soulless, heartless monster you created.”

  Cole doesn’t make a sound when he comes back into the kitchen, but my body becomes very aware of him as he moves closer, my pulse ticking with unease. I plunge my unsteady hands into the water, keeping them busy with the dirty dishes. All my muscles tense up as he steps behind me, his body mere centimeters from mine.

  “Well, well…this is something I never thought I’d see. The princess is washing dishes. You must be so lost without your maid.” He spits the word out with disgust, the animosity behind it directed at me.

  Despite what he believes, I never thought I was better than him. Cole’s mother was so much more than our housekeeper. Especially to me. She was like a second mother. A considerably better one than I had. It crushed me when she got a new job and the two of them moved out. As much as I wanted her to have a life and place of her own, I hated the thought of living in this big house without them. They made it a home.

  After Lydia quit, my parents hired some woman to come in three days a week. But I never spoke to her. There was no way to replace what I’d lost.

  “Screw you, Cole.”

  His chuckled breath brushes through the hair on my neck, and goosebumps spread on my skin. He tugs on the back of my shirt, leaning in until his lips find my ear. “Did you think wearing this ugly fucking rag would make me jealous?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie, rushing to rinse the pan I’d been washing.

  His laughter is dark and condescending as he backs away. “That wasn’t very convincing for an expert liar.”

  I huff and then slam the pan on the drying rack, toweling off my hands before twirling around to face him. He’s propped against the island, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. The white button-down and black slacks mean he’s working today, and I’m not sure if it’s relief or disappointment I’m feeling.

  “Oh, I’m a liar. That’s rich coming from you.” The second the words are out of my mouth I want to stuff them back in. I’m practically inviting him to confront me about the weeks I spent pretending to be someone else.

  His features darken with wrath as he stalks toward me. The instinct telling me to run is drowned out by the loud pounding in my chest, my feet staying planted as I grip the quartz countertop. He stands toe-to-toe with me, his six-foot-two frame forcing me to tilt my head back to meet his fiery glare.

  “If anyone at Westbrook so much as touched you, I would know it. And, believe me, they wouldn’t make that mistake again.” The jealous snarl of his tone sends a thrill through me.

  “Well, at some point, I lost my shirt and ended up in Cory’s. Maybe you don’t hold as much power as you think.” The triumphant sneer tugging at my mouth falls as he grabs my hips with a punishing grip and pulls me to his body.

  He leans in, bringing his face dangerously close to mine. “It isn’t wise to test me, Princess.”

  His threatening words dance on my lips, triggering something other than fear in me. I swallow, wetting my dry tongue. My mind is too clouded with lust to properly consider the next thing I say. “What do you care who I fuck?”

  My heart thunders when he presses his forehead to mine and growls, the rumble in his chest vibrating through me when he says, “For keeps, remember?”

  His hungry emerald eyes cause a throbbing between my thighs, and I clench them together as I reply on shaky breath, “You can’t hold me to a promise I made when we were kids.”

  He raises his head, the playful grin on his lips both terrifying and exciting me at the same time. It’s so Cole—danger wrapped up in a beautiful package.

  His mischievous eyes study me, as if he’s considering his next move. Then his hand is on my throat, his fingertips wrapped around the back of my neck while his thumb presses on my pulse. “No one will ever make your heart race the way
I do.”

  As much as I hate the arrogant smugness in his tone, he’s not wrong. I’ve never experienced this with anyone else. Cole makes me feel like a live wire when he’s around, our connection raw and intense. Which is exactly why I’m not putting a stop to this, even though I should.

  When his hand glides into my hair and tugs, I willingly tilt my head to give him access. My eyelids fall as he dives in, a whimpered moan expelled from my lungs when his soft lips land on the same spot his thumb had been.

  Frenzied kisses forge a path on the sensitive skin to my ear, and he playfully nibbles at my lobe. My lips tingle with anticipation as he works his way across my jaw, but he stops short of my mouth. I let out a disgruntled sigh, my eyes popping open as he releases his hold on me. His dark gaze bounces between my lips and eyes, his heavy breaths fanning a fresh minty scent across my face.

  It’s like he’s fighting an internal war—logic and lust, battling for control.

  But I’ve already conceded to desire, and it has no plans of waving a white flag now.

  Before Cole has a chance to come to his senses, I wrap my arms around his neck and crash my mouth into his. He makes another primal noise as his lips part, our tongues eager as they tangle together. Time and distance clearly haven’t weakened the chemistry between us. This kiss is filled with the same electricity as all the ones that came before it.

  Cole’s mouth leaves mine as he lifts my thighs, hoisting me off my feet and setting me on the edge of the counter. Once his body is positioned between my legs, he slams his mouth against mine again. His kiss is consuming; every thought or feeling I’ve had outside of this moment lost to it.

  He clutches onto my ass, pulling me to his bulging hard-on. The pressure between my legs makes my head dizzy, the need to relieve the building ache at my center taking over. When I wrap my legs around his waist and rock into him, his groan sounds like a mixture of pain and pleasure.

  His hands glide under my shirt, his touch setting my skin on fire as he works his way up the sides of my waist. He sucks on my bottom lip, scraping his teeth over it before releasing me. My brain is completely disoriented by him, and I lift my arms without hesitation, allowing him to remove my shirt with ease before I even realize what’s happening.