PAINE: ROSEWOOD HIGH #2

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PAINE: ROSEWOOD HIGH #2 Page 11

by Lorraine, Tracy


  I slam her back against the door to make our appearance known, and it works like a fucking charm because only a few seconds later, Camila appears in the doorway.

  “Mason?”

  I glance at her, my lips still attached to Shelly’s, and I don’t miss how her face pales at finding us together.

  “Perfect,” I drawl when I pull away from a panting Shelly. “You fancy adding another to our party, Shell?”

  “The more the merrier.”

  With my arm around her waist, I pull her over to where Camila’s frozen on the spot. I reach for her but stop the second she looks like she’s about to throw up, and thank fuck I didn’t grab her because she bolts to the bathroom and heaves into the toilet.

  “Ew,” Shelly complains, backing up toward the door. Clearly I wasn’t all that important if she’s going to run before she’s even got any action.

  I let her go—I didn’t even want her here, really—before stepping inside the bathroom to check on Camila.

  She’s slumped next to the toilet, her eyes are closed and her head lolled to the side. She’s out of it.

  “Camila?” I flush the toilet before bending down in front of her. “Cami-bear?”

  She moans as if she can hear me but doesn’t respond.

  “Where’s your useless cunt of a boyfriend? He should be looking after you right now.”

  “I dunno,” she slurs. “Gone.”

  “Motherfucker.” I slam my palm down on the tiles behind her and she doesn’t even flinch. “When are you going to realize what a waste of fucking space he is, huh?”

  She doesn’t respond other than to snore lightly.

  I should leave her here. After everything, it’s what I should do, but that’s not who I am. I can act like I hate her, like she single-handedly ruined my life, but even I know that it’s a lie. And telling myself that I stopped caring about her after her family ran my dad out of town and sent my life into a spirally mess is an even bigger lie I tell myself most days. Underneath all my hate and frustration at the world is still the little boy who would do anything for his girl.

  Forgetting about my need for revenge and my mission to hurt her, I scoop her up in my arms and walk from the room.

  “Where we going? Noah, need Noah.”

  Just hearing his name falling from her lips when the fuck-up is probably balls deep in Tasha as we speak pisses me off beyond belief and almost has me dumping her on Ethan’s bed for him to deal with later. But when I glance down at her conflicted sleeping face, something bigger tugs at my heart and I find myself walking from his house and laying her across the seats in the back of my car to get her home.

  Thankfully, knowing Ethan’s house as I do, I take her out the back and only a handful of people spot us.

  It’s long past midnight when I pull up outside her house. Seeing my mother’s car parked in her driveway brings reality crashing back down on me. This isn’t just her home now, it’s mine too for the foreseeable future.

  How am I supposed to look at her every day? How am I supposed to deal with her fucking boyfriend coming around and playing nice with her parents, which I’m sure he does? He’s just that kind of smarmy fucker.

  Knowing everyone will be fast asleep by now, I pull the key out that my mom gave me and let us in. The house is in darkness as I carry her up the stairs. She stirs, telling me that she’s not completely comatose, but she’s still had way too fucking much to drink. Where the fuck was he? It’s his job to ensure she’s safe. He must have known how much she’d had to drink when he was dancing with her. This right now, it’s not my fucking job.

  I kick her bedroom door open and step inside, managing to flick the light on without dropping her. I’m immediately hit with memories I’d rather disintegrated with our friendship. The walls are the same shade of soft pink they always were, and everything’s in exactly the same place.

  I remember sitting at her desk, working on homework. Lying on the floor, playing with our toys. Snuggling under her duvet watching films that were too old for us. My heart aches for what we once had and what we could have been if it weren’t for me and my need for revenge.

  This girl was my everything and I ruined that. The realization is startling. That first kiss we shared in this room, it could have led to something incredible. Or did everything work out as it should? Would we have always ended up hating each other in the end?

  She stirs in my arms and I’m reminded of why I’m standing here right now, wondering what if.

  “Mason,” she moans. I have no idea if she’s realized it’s me holding her or if she’s dreaming, but the sound of my name falling from her lips does something to me. My veins fill with fire and my cock swells. “Mase, please.” There’s heat in her words, a heat I don’t need to hear, ever.

  “Fuck,” I grunt, placing her on the bed and backing up to the door.

  I have one more night where I’m able to put space between us, so instead of heading to my new room, I leave the house and go home for my last and lonely night in the only home I’ve ever known.

  15

  Camila

  When I come to, I soon realize that I’m lying in a puddle of my own drool and that my head is fucking pounding.

  What the— “Oh fuck,” I whisper into the silence of my room as hazy images from last night start to hit me.

  Shots of tequila.

  Noah.

  Mason.

  Bathroom.

  Mason and Shelly.

  Fuck. My stomach churns and I prepare to puke over the side of whoever’s bed I’m currently sleeping in.

  I remember being carried and being laid out on a comfortable bed, but I don’t have the fucking slightest of clues as to who did that. Noah, maybe? Jake? Did Amalie find me and look after me?

  My head spins as I try to make sense of anything other than the fact that I drank way too much. I went to that party wanting to forget, but before I’ve even opened my eyes, I’m regretting the stupid decision.

  I suck in a few deep breaths through my nose, and once the swirling of my stomach has subsided, I crack my eyes open.

  What the—

  I’m in my bedroom. I blink a few times, thinking I must be still asleep, or my alcohol fuzzed brain is making me see things. But I really am in my bedroom. Looking down, I find that I’m still in my Rosewood Bears t-shirt and my jeans that I pulled on before last night’s game, although they now have puke on them. Gross.

  Whoever it was who got me back here last night certainly did not see me at my best.

  I prop my pillows up against my headboard and lie back. My usual glass of water is sitting on my nightstand, but unusually there’s a packet of Advil sitting next to it. The sight makes me smile, but it doesn’t help me figure out how I got here.

  A thought hits me and my head snaps to the side, expecting to find I have a bed partner, but that part of the bed definitely hasn’t been slept in.

  Reaching for the tablets, I pop two out while thanking whoever was thoughtful enough to leave them and wash them down with the water.

  Slinking back down under the covers, I will them to kick in soon so I can get up without worrying that I might puke on my feet.

  I lie there wondering how much of a fool I made of myself last night as the sounds of people moving around and chatter downstairs filters up to me.

  Fuck. Today’s the Paines’ official moving in day. Groaning, I roll over and somehow the pounding in my head subsides enough for me to fall back to sleep.

  Eventually banging from the other side of the wall wakes me back up. Thankfully, the pounding inside my head has lessened and I don’t want to puke the moment I sit up, so I take that as a positive. Looking at my alarm, I blanch when I see it’s almost lunchtime. I love sleeping, but I’m not one to sleep in this late.

  Swinging my legs from the bed, I grab a change of clothes and head for the bathroom.

  I feel like a new woman once I’ve brushed my teeth. It’s almost like the simple task washes away my hangover. I turn th
e shower on nice and hot, strip out of yesterday’s clothes, and step under the spray, hoping it’ll wash away the memories as well as the stench of alcohol that seems to be clinging to me.

  With my dark hair freshly blow dried and straightened, and a fresh white tank with a simple pair of sweats where my dirty old clothes once were, I pull the door open and step into the hallway.

  The banging I could hear had totally passed me by in my need to get clean, but the second I round the corner I almost crash into reality.

  There in front of me, topless and showing off what seems like miles of rippling muscles, is Mason attempting to single-handedly maneuver a double bed into the bedroom next to mine.

  I’m powerless but to stand and watch as he tries to twist it this way and that to successfully get it into the room that used to be my dad’s home office. It had been emptied a few days ago for our new tenants. I’d hoped that maybe his mom or brothers would be allocated that room, but apparently the universe wants to torture me some more by making him my neighbor.

  His muscles ripple and stretch as he continues to fight with the huge wooden base.

  What I should do is sneak back into the bathroom before he sees me, seeing as I need to pass him in order to get to my bedroom. But obviously that isn’t what happens. I move, but it’s not to hide. Instead I lean against the doorframe and watch, too fascinated to drag my eyes away from his body.

  A guy’s body isn’t an alien thing to me, but seeing as Noah’s more of a computer geek than a jock, it’s safe to say that I’m not used to the kind of definition my eyes are feasting on right now.

  I have no idea if I make a noise, there’s a very good chance as he bends to try to lift the bed over the doorjamb that I moan or something else equally embarrassing, because he does have one fine ass. Even if the guy attached to it isn’t all that pleasant. There’s got to be something good that comes out of this arrangement, and if it’s that I get a bit of regular eye candy then I guess I can live with that.

  His head pops up and he immediately finds me watching him. Even with the distance between us, I see his eyes darken and drop as they take in my scantily clad body. I immediately regret not putting a bra on under my tank when I feel my nipples beginning to pebble under his intense stare.

  “You just gonna stand there staring or are you going to fucking help?”

  “Oh... uh... yeah, sure.” I drop the dirty clothes I’m holding on a pile on the floor and race over.

  “Can you squeeze through that gap and pull from inside?” He nods toward the tiny space between the bed frame and the door, but he must realize it’s probably impossible when his eyes drop to my breasts once again. They definitely aren’t getting through that gap.

  “How about you squeeze through. That way if it falls, it’ll only fall on you.” His eyes widen in shock, although I swear I see a little pride in there too.

  Over the past four years I haven’t made all that effort to stand my ground with him. I figured there wasn’t much of a point. He was going to hate me whether I bit back or not. I just preferred it to be over quicker so I could attempt to move on with my life. Things have changed over the past couple of weeks though, especially with him now moving in here. I’m not going to sit back and accept whatever shit he wants to throw at me. This is my house, and if he thinks he can walk all over me, then he’s got another think coming.

  “Sounds good. I always prefer the girl on top anyway.”

  The image of him with his hands and lips all over Shelly last night hits me out of nowhere, and I sway slightly with the sheer force of it.

  “What?” he asks when he notices a change in me.

  “Bet Shelly fucking loved that last night. She’s probably spent all morning bragging to her pathetic friends about riding number eleven.” I don’t realize my mistake until I say his number. He didn’t play.

  He blanches but covers it quickly. “She fucking better be. I rocked her fucking world.”

  “’Course you did, hotshot.”

  His eyes narrow. “You’re just jealous because you’ll never get to find out.”

  “Ha, yeah. Jealous. How’d you figure me out?” I roll my eyes so hard they actually hurt, but the way my blood heats beneath my skin makes me wonder how true his words might actually be. Seeing him with both Chelsea and Shelly last night did something to me. Shaking my thoughts from my mind, I find that Mason’s slipped through the gap. “We doing this or just stroking your already fucking massive ego?”

  “It’s not my massive ego you should be thinking about, Cami-bear.”

  “Fuck you, Mase. Do you want my help or not?”

  “Fine, but only so I can have a bed tonight.”

  “For sleeping,” I add. “I refuse to listen to you banging your conquests on the other side of the wall from where I sleep.”

  He tugs the frame and the whole thing moves forward. I hold it but barely, allowing him to do all the work and get it into place. He gently lowers it to the carpet, and I stand back to watch, still too fascinated by his body than I should be. Nothing’s said between us. My last statement hangs heavy in the air. Until he turns and pins me with his dark stare.

  He takes a step toward me and I take a huge one back. He looks like he’s a lion stalking his prey, and I get the feeling he’s about to have me for lunch.

  “You’ll fucking love it, lying there listening to the moans I drag out of them. Imagining it’s you beneath me. Imagining it’s my hands bringing you more pleasure than you’ve ever experienced before.”

  My back hits the wall, but he keeps coming. I glance over his shoulder but I have no hope of ducking him and getting to the door.

  “We both know that I’d be more capable than that waste of fucking space boyfriend of yours. I would say I bet he hardly knows where to put it, but we both know that’s not true because he’s sticking it to Tasha pretty well, so I hear.”

  “Fuck you.” My arm flies out to slap him, but just like the last time I tried this move he catches it before it makes contact and pins it to the wall above my head.

  The move makes my back arch, my breasts thrusting forward. He closes the space between us, his heat burning through my thin clothing.

  “If only you stopped resisting.” My head spins for a few seconds, trying to figure out what the fuck I said, but the moment I realize, my cheeks heat and I fight to get away.

  “Yeah, because you’re an asshole,” I spit. “Now get your fucking hands off me.” I push from the wall, but all it achieves is for us to press closer together. My skin tingles and something explodes low down in my stomach.

  His manly scent fills my nose, and I’m powerless to stop the hitch in my breathing as he stares down at me.

  “You fucking love me being an asshole. That’s why your heart’s racing, why your nipples are fucking begging me to suck on them, and I bet you’re wet as fuck for me right now.” His free hand lifts and he trails one fingertip along the edge of my tank.

  Sure as shit, my nipples tighten almost painfully as goosebumps skate across my skin. He hooks his finger in the fabric at my cleavage and pulls. My breath catches that he’s about to expose me, but his eyes don’t leave mine. He releases the fabric in favor of running the same finger around the waistband of my sweats.

  “Shall we find out if I’m right? I bet you’re wetter for me than you ever are for him. What do you think?”

  “Mason.” I wanted his name to be a warning, but fuck if it doesn’t just sound needy.

  My pussy throbs for attention and I’m almost at the point of demanding he does something about it when he removes all contact from me and stands back.

  An evil smirk tugs at his lips. “Wow, Cami-bear. I thought you’d at least put up a bit of a fight. Seems you and your boyfriend deserve each other if you’d give yourself over to me that easily. Now get the fuck out of my bedroom.”

  I push from the wall and all but run to the door.

  “And Cami-bear?” I shouldn’t turn around but fuck if it’s not what my head
does the second I hear him say my name. “I don’t want to hear you strumming one out next door now that you’re all hot and bothered.”

  “Fuck. You.” I don’t hang around long enough to hear his response. Instead I run to my room and slam the door.

  Why doesn’t this door have a fucking lock on it?

  16

  Mason

  I’m equally amused as I am fucking horny after watching Camila run from my new bedroom. It was true what I said, I was shocked she allowed that to go as far as it did and fuck if I wasn’t about two seconds from sliding my hand into her fucking hideous sweatpants to find out what she really thinks of me. She was begging for it, that much was obvious. It makes me hate her fucking boyfriend that much more for not taking care of her as he should be and putting all his efforts into his cheerslut.

  I think back to last night and the state she was in. Where the hell was he? He was at the party, I’d already seen Camila sucking his fucking face off. What guy in their right mind disappears on a girl who’s all over them like she was him?

  “Fucking idiot,” I mutter as I throw my mattress on top of my bedframe and fall down onto it. My chest heaves from the exertion it took to get the fucking thing over here. Mom had help from Clint and his friends to move all her shit. It seems no one cares how I move in. In fact, they’ve already settled in so well that they’ve all gone for a fun family day out. I wasn’t even invited.

  Dragging my cell from my pocket, I pull up my recent messages and find our group chat.

  Me: Workout?

  It’s probably the last thing the guys want to do after the game last night, but I’m agitated and storming into Camila’s room and finishing what we started up against my bedroom wall isn’t really an option, so I go for the next best thing.

  Ethan: Fuck that, man. Still got two chicks in bed.

  I shake my head at my best friend. I want to be disgusted with his ways, but right now even I can admit that I’m jealous as fuck. I didn’t want to fuck Shelly last night, but damn, that doesn’t mean I don’t need to. My balls are so fucking blue right now they’re almost fucking ice.

 

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