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

by A. D. McCammon

  There’s no stopping the smile that spreads across my face. My ploy worked. Cole just confirmed his love for me is more than he lets on.

  When I move closer, his eyes connect with mine, and an army of butterflies take flight in my belly.

  “If that’s true, prove it,” I challenge, my mind officially lost.

  “Don’t,” he warns. “This conversation is getting…”

  “Please, Cole,” I beg, refusing to let him sweep this back under the rug. “Tell me the truth. Do you want to kiss me?”

  His eyelids fall, and he takes a deep breath before they lift again. “There’s nothing I want more than to kiss you, Princess. It’s something I’ve wanted for a long time. But I can’t.”

  His confession makes my heart feel both light and heavy at the same time, like a bird that’s been tethered to the ground.

  “Why not?” I demand.

  He can’t tell me how badly he wants to kiss me after all these years and then deny me. It isn’t fair.

  “You’re not meant to be with someone like me,” he answers, the sorrow in his tone canceling out any annoyance I feel. “I can’t keep you. You’re special. And I’m…nothing.”

  My chest aches at his words. He gives me so much grief about not loving myself the way I should. Yet here he is, the most incredible person I’ve ever met, thinking he’s not good enough for me.

  “That’s not true. You’re my everything. I love you, Cole Masterson. How could you not know that by now?”

  He reaches out, capturing my face in his hands, the pad of his thumb wiping away a rogue tear. “I love you too, Princess. So damn much.”

  My heart dances with joy, and then he pulls my face close to his. The air stills in my lungs as I anticipate my first kiss, coming out in a whoosh of disappointment when he stops.

  “Promise me.” His breathy plea brushes across my lips, and goosebumps form on my skin. “Promise if I kiss you, you’ll be mine.”

  “For keeps,” I vow, having no doubt in my mind he’ll own my heart forever.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Present

  GWEN

  Cole’s scent lures me from sleep, my body rolling in search of his. I’m met with a cold, empty bed. Fear hits me like a bucket full of icy water, and my eyes pop open.

  I sit up, my eyes blinking as they adjust. Just as I’m beginning to question if last night had been a dream, a small folded piece of paper grabs my attention. There’s a heart drawn on the outside, good morning written underneath it in Cole’s handwriting.

  My heart flutters as I pick it up and read the message inside.

  Get your sexy ass downstairs. I’m making breakfast.

  For keeps,

  Cole

  I squeal like a middle school girl who just got a note from the boy she likes and throw the covers off me. Last night wasn’t a dream. This is really happening. We’re getting a second chance.

  I’m practically dancing on my way to the bathroom, humming and bopping while I clean up. But the second my feet begin to descend the stairs, nervous energy twists in my gut. There’s one huge downfall to having Cole back: the possibility of losing him all over again.

  He said he forgave me for everything, that he didn’t even blame me anymore. But it doesn’t feel like anything was resolved. Cole keeps reassuring me Shane isn’t a threat anymore, and I haven’t heard from him since the pictures, but there’s still a dread weighing heavily on my chest.

  Shane could’ve told Cole everything yesterday. It doesn’t make sense for him to continue to keep the secret. He has to be up to something. This isn’t over. It won’t end until everything is out in the open.

  I have to tell Cole the truth. When he finds out I’ve been hiding something so huge from him all this time, I could lose him for good.

  The heavenly smell coming from the kitchen temporarily distracts me from my dark thoughts, all of them completely abandoned once I lay eyes on Cole. He’s wearing those damn gray sweatpants again, the top half of his body bare.

  To Be So Lonely by Harry Styles is playing through the tiny speaker sitting on the island. My heart explodes in my chest as I watch Cole sing along to the lyrics and move to the beat.

  As if sensing my stare, he looks over his shoulder and smirks.

  “I didn’t take you for a Harry Styles fan,” I tease.

  Cole abandons the stove, a swagger in his step on his way over to me. “The girl I love is obsessed with him, so I decided to check him out.”

  My smile is too big for my face as he wraps his arms around my waist. “You seem to know that song pretty well,” I challenge.

  He chuckles. “What can I say, the dude is talented.”

  His lips connect with mine, and I melt into him. The kiss is loving and sweet. It’s the kind that promises there are many more to come.

  Dear god, please let this be a promise he can keep.

  My head feels dizzy as he pulls away.

  “Let’s eat.” He gestures for me to take a seat at the table before returning to the food. “Chef taught me a new dish last week that I think you’re going to love.”

  “Awesome.” I sit, observing the way he perfectly prepares our plates. “You didn’t have to make me breakfast, you know.”

  Cole scoffs as he carries the plates over. “I wanted to. You’re my favorite person to cook for, and your parents will be back tomorrow night. I’m soaking up my time alone with you as much as possible. Unfortunately, I’ve got to work for a few hours today. But,” he places a plate in front of me, his voice huskier as he continues with, “when I get back, we’re playing house for the next twenty-four hours.”

  Nervous energy bubbles out of me as he winks and takes the seat next to me. We were never left completely alone when he lived here with his mother. Last night, things started in the kitchen before we headed up to my room. I thought Cole was joking when he said he wanted to be with me in every room of this house, but the mischievous grin on his face says otherwise.

  Cole leans over for another quick kiss, and my abdomen tightens.

  “Damn,” he says as he breaks the kiss. “It’s going to be really hard to keep my hands off you when your parents are around.”

  “Well, you don’t have to worry about it in front of my mother. She apparently knew about us all along.”

  Cole coughs, his eyes wide as he takes a drink of water to keep from choking on his food. “No shit? How did she find out? She wasn’t angry?”

  “Are you kidding? My mother thinks you hung the damn moon.” I groan, rolling my eyes. “She said we weren’t as sneaky as we thought. That our feelings for each other were obvious or some shit. I don’t know. It was weird. She came into my room the other day trying to have some mother-daughter moment.”

  “You shouldn’t be so hard on your mom. I know she doesn’t always do or say the right things…”

  I huff. “That’s putting it mildly. The woman makes me feel like shit about myself on a regular basis.”

  He frowns, tapping a finger on my forehead. “A lot of that is all in here. You spend so much time thinking the worst of yourself, you automatically assume everyone else is too. Trust me, your mother loves you. I’ve seen what it looks like when a parent doesn’t care about their child.”

  “Thatcher?”

  Cole told me a couple of horrifying stories about Thatcher’s home life. The poor kid was bullied at school by his peers and treated like dirt at home by his parents. I think that’s why Cole befriended him. He hates to see anyone being mistreated. Not long after the two of them became friends, Thatcher started standing up for himself at school. Though, if the rumors are true, his home life remained the same.

  He gives me a solemn nod. “You’re lucky to have two parents who love and support you. Don’t take it for granted.”

  Two parents.

  Cole’s mother loves him enough for five sets of parents, but it still isn’t the same. He’s been without the love of a father since he was five years old and still bears the pain
of losing his dad. He’ll always feel that absence in his life.

  How do I tell him the truth about his father, knowing it will change everything he believes and holds dear? How do I live with myself knowing I’ve fractured the few memories he has of him?

  My eyes fall to the pick around his neck. He’s been wearing the lucky guitar pick as long as I’ve known him. It belonged to the man who raised him—Cole’s namesake. Nicolas Masterson could’ve been a country legend. If only someone hadn’t taken his life.

  That single act changed Cole’s entire world. He’s spent all these years hating the monster that stole so much from him. What happens when he finds out it’s even darker than he imagined?

  “Hey.” He nudges my knee, his brow knit with amusement as my stare lifts. “Where did you go, Princess?”

  My throat swells, and I look into his beautiful green eyes, tears wetting my face. “Cole, I…there’s something I should—”

  “No,” he rushes. “Please don’t.”

  My heavy heart sinks when he takes my hand. I despise Shane for everything he’s done to me—to Cole—but most of all, I hate him for discovering the truth and unloading the weight of it on me. This isn’t something I was ever meant to know. It’s not a story I should tell. But knowing and not telling Cole feels wrong.

  “Whatever it is you’re about to tell me, I don’t want to know.” His words are more of a plea this time.

  I take a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh. “You can’t be sure of that.”

  “Will it bring me joy or sorrow?” he questions, a sharp edge in his tone.

  My lips press, a single tear rolling down my face. This will only bring him pain. It’s the kind of thing that causes a deep scar on a person’s soul.

  “Sorrow,” he answers for me. “And…will it ruin this?” He gestures between us. “Will knowing mean losing you? Losing the chance to get back what we had?”

  There’s only one way to be sure, but he’s bound to hold some resentment toward me. I’ll be the bearer of bad news. The one who kept something so monumental from him for years. It’s very likely he’ll lash out. First at me, then his mother.

  God…his mother. She won’t be happy with me, either.

  “I don’t know,” I whisper.

  His jaw tics, his head jerking with a curt nod. “All right, those two things alone tell me I don’t want or need this information. But since you seem to think it’s important, I’ll ask you one last question. If you can answer yes with a hundred percent certainty, I’ll listen to what you have to say. If not, you drop it and don’t bring it up again. Deal?”

  He’s giving me an out. And I want to take it so bad—to not let things from the past ruin our future. But, how much longer can I last carrying this around?

  Secrets never stay buried forever.

  “Okay,” I reluctantly agree.

  “If the tables were turned, would you want me to tell you?”

  It’s impossible to decide if you’re willing to have your world flipped upside down. Who’s to say what the view will look like from the other side? But my life has been extremely different from Cole’s. There hasn’t been a lot of good for him to cling to. He has his mother and the good memories of his dad. When that’s all you have, nothing is worth the risk of losing them.

  “No.” I shake my head, more tears spilling down my face.

  “Good,” he chirps, the smile on his lips not quite reaching his eyes. “It’s settled then. Now, eat your breakfast.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Present

  COLE

  Thatcher’s Benz speeds away from Cory’s house with me in the passenger seat. I shoot Gwen a quick text message to explain what happened and apologize for leaving her there alone.

  As soon as Thatch got back in town, he came looking for Violet. The poor bastard showed up at Cory’s end-of-summer bash tonight, expecting to pick things up with Saint exactly where they’d left off. But Violet wasn’t having it. She ran, he chased her, and I had to play interference.

  The things I do for my friends.

  Thatch looked like he was ready to deck me for a minute. Not that I blame him. He spent the entire summer not being able to see or talk to Violet. She didn’t respond to a single letter he wrote her. All he wanted was to be with his girl again—to make things right. But Cory’s party wasn’t the time or place. She wasn’t ready to hear what he had to say.

  Once he calmed down, I talked him into leaving with me so we could catch up. I hated the idea of ditching Gwen, but Mia was with her. And a party was the last place Thatcher needed to be while he was all worked up. He doesn’t need to get in any more fights.

  Gwen: It’s fine. Mia said she would give me a ride. I’ll see you at home later.

  I’m not sure I’d be so understanding in her shoes. Tonight was supposed to be about me and Gwen—our first big outing as a couple. Senior year starts Monday. We wanted to get all the awkwardness with people from school out of the way. They’ve known us as enemies for the last two years. Before that, everyone thought of us as siblings. It’s only natural for people to be a little thrown when they find out we’re dating.

  To be honest, I haven’t fully wrapped my head around it all yet either. Things with Gwen have been incredible the last few weeks. We’ve definitely been making up for some of the time we lost. Date nights, long conversations, and sex. So much sex.

  I never thought we would make it back to this place. Everything seemed too fucked up, beyond repair. And as happy as I am about being wrong, there’s a part of me worrying we’ve put a Band-Aid on a bullet wound.

  “Is that Saint?” Thatcher asks, breaking the silence that was lingering between us.

  There’s still a heavy tension between us, a lot we need to work out. But we’re like brothers, we’ll fight it out if we have to.

  “No,” I groan. “It was actually my girl. The one I had to leave at the party to take care of your ass.”

  He takes his eyes off the road, glaring at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Your girl? Jesus, I’m gone for two months. Now Arwen is attending parties with the football players and you’re dating someone?”

  I laugh. “Wait until I tell you who the bad girl of Westbrook was there to see.”

  “She’s seeing a football player?” He shakes his head as I nod. “That’s insane, but I’m more interested in your girl right now. Last I heard you were hung up on someone hiding behind a screen name.”

  Thatcher gave me hell when I told him about Phantom Girl, called me an idiot for talking to someone without even knowing their name. He was right too, and I knew it. That’s why I lied about talking to her on the phone.

  “Yeah…about that. That’s actually who I’m with. Turns out I knew her all along.”

  “No shit? Who was it?”

  “Gwen.”

  He dies laughing, and I can’t help but join him. It’s nice to see, even if it’s at my expense. Thatcher doesn’t laugh like this often. He’s always so uptight, taking everything too seriously.

  “I wondered if you two would ever figure your shit out,” he says, catching his breath.

  My brow bunches with confusion. I never told Thatcher about my past with Gwen. Girls weren’t something we talked about when we were younger. Then things ended with her, and I didn’t want to discuss it with anyone. If Arwen hadn’t figured it out on her own, she wouldn’t know either.

  “I think we’re still working on that,” I joke.

  “So, how did that all play out? Did she tell you she was Phantom Girl or did you find out on your own?”

  “What do you think?” I scoff. “After Shane’s party, I had to know.”

  “Then what happened? Did you confront her?”

  “Nah. I was pissed, and so sure she was screwing with me at first. So, when my mom went out of town for the summer with Patrick, I arranged to stay at the Rhodes’ place.”

  His mouth drops open as he stops at the light, his stare landing on me. “You’ve been livi
ng there all summer?”

  I give him a lopsided grin and shrug a shoulder. “It seemed like the perfect way to mess with her.”

  The light turns green and he shakes his head, returning his attention to the road. “If you went there to give her hell, how did you end up dating?”

  The answer to his question will open a can of worms—my past with Gwen and Shane’s involvement in the whole thing. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to give Thatcher a target for his frustration at the moment. Shane’s not worth being sent away again or worse.

  “That’s a bit of a story. But speaking of revenge plans,” I say, remembering I’ve got something important to tell him, “I took care of Brandi and the rest of the vipers. The only thing you need to focus on is fixing shit with Saint.”

  Arwen told me she wrote Thatcher, letting him know what they’d done to Violet. There was no way he was going to let that go. I didn’t want him to be fixated on getting his pound of flesh and end up losing her for good.

  His jaw tics, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as his muscles stiffen. “What did you do?”

  “Let’s just say their numbers got mixed up in their phones. It was interesting to see how quickly things went south. Once they royally screwed themselves, I sent them a little message as a reminder of our deal. It’s safe to say they won’t be fucking with Saint again.”

  Brandi sent a message to her boyfriend that was meant for her side piece and got dumped. The other girls had mistakenly messaged their fathers or professors, getting them in a shitstorm of trouble. If there was any real justice, though, they wouldn’t be able to live freely. Lord knows Thatcher will never truly feel free of them.

  He lets out a long breath of relief. “Thanks, man.”

  I lift my chin as his intense dark eyes flicker to me, the gratitude in them causing a lump in my throat.

  And just like that, everything is good between us again.