PAINE: ROSEWOOD HIGH #2

by Lorraine, Tracy

  “Bringing the party to you, what’s it look like?”

  “I said no to this,” I call over my shoulder, but he ignores me. Racing after him, I stop him in the kitchen just before he starts raiding the cupboards. “This isn’t my house. You can’t party here.”

  “Camila won’t care. I have it on good authority that you two have it to yourselves for the weekend so... here we are. Got things to celebrate, man.”

  I blow out a breath. “I don’t want all the guys knowing I had to move in here,” I admit quietly.

  “Don’t sweat it. We told them it’s Camila’s thing. Wanting a blow out after Noah and all that shit. We got your back, man.”

  Music comes on as the sound of the guys’ banter from the living room filters down to us.

  “Okay fine. We’ll order pizza,” I say, slapping his thieving hands away from the cupboards. “But just the guys, okay?”

  “Yeah, whatever you want.” He winks at me and my stomach twists. He’s so not telling the truth, but I roll with it—for now, at least.

  Beers and pizza with the guys soon turns into shots and beer pong, and beer pong soon turns into body shots with the cheer squad and a few other girls Ethan managed to drag here from fuck knows where. I can’t help but notice Chelsea’s absence though. I’d have thought she’d have been first here after last night.

  “Hey, handsome. Ethan said I should come over here and show you a good time,” a soft voice whispers in my ear. I turn to look over my shoulder and the room spins at my movement.

  She’s pretty and her voice isn’t like nails down a chalkboard like Chelsea’s. She walks around me and makes herself at home on my lap.

  “Nice house you’ve got here.”

  “Thanks. Can’t say I pay much attention.”

  Her hands run up my chest and over my shoulders. Leaning in, her nose brushes against my neck. “Hmmm... you smell so good. I bet you taste even better.” Her lips hit my skin and the world vanishes around me as I focus on her attention. Fuck if it doesn’t feel good.

  25

  Camila

  Seeing as both Alyssa and Amalie are coming back to my house for the night, we make the most of the spa’s restaurant before heading home. We’ve had an incredible day. We’ve been scrubbed, buffed and tanned, and I haven’t felt this relaxed in ages. A day with my girls to talk about mindless crap and gossip (that didn’t involve me) from school was exactly what I needed today. It also helped take my mind off the fact that we’re going home to a house without my parents. They’re probably living it up in New York without me. My happiness wanes a little, but I try to cover it. I’m so proud of my dad. He deserves this after all his hard work, but it’s going to be weird with them being in a different state most weeks. At least when they’ve been absent in the past I know they’ve only been a phone call away.

  “That was incredible,” Alyssa says, pushing her dessert plate away from her and rubbing her belly. “I don’t think we did enough exercise today.”

  The two of us laugh with her. I can’t help but agree. The food here has been almost non-stop all day; my belly feels a little bloated and my eyes are getting heavy with my need to curl up and sleep it all off.

  “Ready to head back?” I ask them both.

  “I’m not sure I ever want to leave here,” Amalie complains. “It’s pretty incredible.”

  “Aren’t you used to this kind of thing from before?” Alyssa asks. Amalie’s still quite tight-lipped about her past life, and I must say that I assumed this would have been a weekly event in her glamorous life.

  “Mom and I used to go to a spa maybe once a month. It was our thing.”

  I immediately feel awful when her eyes water a little. “Shit, you should have said. We could have done something else.”

  “No, don’t be silly. I’m not going to stop doing something I enjoy just because it’s something I used to do with them.” I frown at her when a tear escapes.

  “Really?”

  “Really. This is good. I don’t want to spend my life hiding from my past. I need to push myself. This is now, that was then. I’m good.”

  I’m still skeptical as we emerge from the hotel entrance to find Amalie’s little red car. She insisted on driving, seeing as I’ve been her taxi almost since she arrived. I wasn’t going to argue about sitting back and enjoying the ride.

  I don’t think I even make it five minutes into the journey before my eyes fall closed and I drift off into my food coma.

  “Camila. Cami.” A hand shaking my shoulder is what eventually drags me from my slumber.

  “Yeah, I’m awake.”

  “Cami, I think you might have an issue.”

  “What’s that?” I ask, opening my eyes and seeing we’re parked out front of my house but we’re surrounded by other cars and… “Motherfucker.” Movement from inside proves that my assumption is correct. That fuck wit is having a party. In my house. Without my permission. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

  “Camila, wait, don’t you think that—”

  I don’t hang around long enough to hear the end of her sentence. I push the front door open with such force it slams back against the wall and knocks a vase full of flowers in the hallway over, but I don’t so much as flinch as the anger that’s descended over me forces me forward.

  I storm past a couple of guys from school until I spot Ethan fondling a girl in my kitchen.

  “Where is he?” I seethe, my lips pursed, my hands on my hips.

  “Calm down, baby girl. He’s allowed to celebrate too, you know.” At no point does he remove his hand from the girl’s top. I want to scream at her to get some morals, but she looks too drunk to care right now.

  “Where the fuck is he?” I spit out. He casually looks around, feigning making an effort to find him and pushing me right to my limit. “Ethan?”

  Slowly his eyes come back to me. Amusement plays on his lips, making me want to punch him in the face.

  “Ah... now I remember. I last saw him dragging a girl upstairs.” My stomach turns over at the suggestion, my fancy dinner threatening to make a reappearance at the thought of him being with someone else. Although, that’s not enough to stop me from turning on my heels and running for the stairs.

  “Camila, what’s—” I don’t stop to allow Amalie to finish her question. Instead I storm up the stairs, ensuring my angry footsteps can be heard. I might not bat an eyelid about going after him, but I will give him some warning that a storm’s brewing.

  Wrapping my fingers around the cool metal of his door handle, I don’t even wait long enough to think.

  “Mason, what the fuck do you—” My words falter when I find him sitting on the edge of his bed with his bare back to me. At the intrusion, a female head pokes around him. She’s sitting on the floor. I can only imagine what I’m interrupting right now, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m too angry that he thinks this is okay.

  “Get out,” he growls, but he doesn’t turn to me. Not giving in to his demands that easily, I take a step further into his room. “I said get out.” His voice is low and rough as he repeats his demand, but I hold my ground. I’m not going to be bossed around in my own home by this asshole.

  I soon realize that I wasn’t the one being demanded to leave when the girl makes a show of getting to her feet and storming from the room. At least she was fully clothed.

  Mason stands and I swallow, a ball of dread forming in my stomach.

  “What do I think I’m doing?” he asks, turning his dark, angry stare on me.

  “Yeah. This is my house, you can’t just—”

  “You think I don’t know that?” His voice echoes off the walls of his small bedroom. “I’m reminded every single fucking day that I’m not in my own house. That I don’t have a fucking home.” He steps right in front of me. His scent fills my nose and the heat coming from his bare chest seeps into me. “Trust me, I don’t need you of all people pointing this shit out to me.”

  “You have no right to have a party here.�
��

  “So everyone has to do what you want because it’s your fucking birthday? What the fuck about mine? Don’t I get to fucking celebrate too?”

  My body sags. Of course I knew today was his birthday. For years we had joint birthday parties, every single year until, he abandoned me.

  He shrugs when I don’t come back with an answer, and it really fires me up. “Don’t fucking shrug at me.”

  “Why, what would you rather I did?” He steps closer. “You want me to touch you again? Do things to you that no other has? Make you scream my motherfucking name?” My back hits the wall in my attempt to keep distance between us.

  “Fuck you.”

  “Didn’t get the chance, Cami-bear.”

  Before I know what’s going on, Mason’s fingers tangle in my hair and his lips descend on mine. He’s still for a second, I guess waiting to see what I’m going to do. I intend to fight, on pushing him away and causing him some physical harm for touching me, but then his tongue runs along my bottom lip and mine part to allow him entry without instruction from my brain.

  His tongue sweeps into my mouth, teasing mine until it begins dancing with his. The taste of alcohol mixes with him and makes my muscles relax. He steps into me, one of his thighs coming between mine and pressing against my core. My need to grind down on his is all-consuming, especially when the solid length of his cock pushes against my hip.

  My shirt is lifted and the rough skin of his hands lightly scratches as he explores. He moans and grinds his hips into me, but the noise has reality hitting me full force.

  “No,” I shout, slamming my hands down on his chest until he backs up and away from me.

  We stare at each other for a few seconds, our chests heaving, his cock straining against his pants.

  Words elude me, so instead of coming at him with some smart remark, I just push from the wall and walk away.

  “That’s it. Run. Run away like there’s nothing going on here. Clearly he was right—you are a frigid bitch.”

  I gasp in shock, turn and run toward him. He doesn’t see it coming this time, and my palm connects with his cheek. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes around us. His eyes darken and my stomach clenches in fear. The muscles in his neck pull as he holds himself back. From what, I have no idea, and I don’t intend on hanging around long enough to find out, because I run.

  I practically fly down the stairs before pulling the plug on the sound system and sending the house into almost silence. The few people I can see turn and stare, looking slightly shocked before I make an even bigger spectacle of myself.

  “Get the fuck out of my house,” I scream as loud as my lungs will allow.

  People start moving, but not as quickly as I expect.

  “Get out. Get out. Get out,” I shout, racing through the house, repeating myself until everyone gets the hint that I’m not fucking joking.

  It feels like forever before Ethan eventually gets his ass dragged out by an apologetic Jake. I give him a thankful smile just before he kisses Amalie and closes the front door behind him.

  With a large sigh, I fall down on the sofa. Amalie and Alyssa drop down beside me and each take one of my hands.

  “Are you okay?”

  I’m silent for a few moments as I consider what just happened. “I’m sorry. I think I kinda freaked out a little bit.”

  “What happened upstairs?”

  “I... uh…” I’m not sure how much I want to share, but when I turn and find Amalie’s kind eyes, I find it all spilling from my lips. “I walked in on Mason with a girl. Shouted at him. Kissed him and then slapped him.”

  “Whoa. Rewind,” Alyssa demands. “You kissed him.”

  I shrug. “He was obviously horny, I was mad, it just kinda happened.”

  “You said he was with a girl.”

  “Well, I assumed he was. She was on the floor by his feet and he was sitting on the edge and she was—”

  “Not giving me a blow job,” a deep voice finished for me. “If you’re going to give them the gossip they might as well get the whole truth.”

  I refuse to turn around. I refuse to even acknowledge him with an answer. Both Amalie and Alyssa turn around but the silence is deafening.

  “Cami.” Amalie elbows me in the ribs, but I ignore her. I’m not dealing with him, not when I’m still so angry. “Fine. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  We listen to her soft footsteps before hearing the low mumbling of their voices from the kitchen.

  “You know, I didn’t believe the gossip at school that started going around about you two. After everything that he’s done to you, I really didn’t think you’d ever go there. But I see I was wrong.”

  “It’s nothing, Alyssa.”

  “You just kicked everyone out of your house because you found him with a girl.”

  I fume, turning to look at her. “No,” I snap. “I kicked everyone out because he had no right inviting them all here without so much as asking.”

  “I know that he takes the piss, a lot actually. But shit, Cam. It’s his birthday weekend too. Doesn’t he deserve to have a little fun too after everything?” Alyssa doesn’t know the whole story when it comes to Mason’s life. Hell, even I don’t know the whole story, but I can’t deny she doesn’t have a point, much like he did upstairs.

  I blow out a long breath as the sound of Mason’s feet thundering up the stairs fills the space around us before Amalie returns with drinks.

  “Mojito? They’re strong.”

  “Yes,” I say, jumping up so fast I almost knock the tray from her hands. I pour myself a glassful before downing the glass in one swallow.

  “Whoa, slow down, I don’t need to get Mason to carry you to bed again.”

  I pause for a second, then swallow what’s in my mouth and look up at her.

  “What?”

  “That night you passed out at Ethan’s. You do know it was Mason who got you home, right? Not Noah.”

  I mumble some kind of agreement. My memories from that night are still hazy at best, but I never believed he would have looked after me like that.

  “You’ve really got under his skin. That’s if you ever really left. I think you should go and apologize for tonight.”

  “I will,” I agree, pouring myself another drink. “Later.”

  The first jug soon turns into the third as the three of us trawl through Netflix, watching all the chick-flicks that have been released recently. No one says a word about the guy hiding upstairs, but every time I hear a creak from his movement, my stomach knots knowing that I really should do as Amalie suggested and apologize for ruining his night.

  The problem is, I’m scared. Not of him. I could never be scared of him. I’m scared of being alone in a room with him. He’s going to be as angry, if not more so, than he was earlier, and look how that ended.

  What comes next?

  26

  Camila

  We head up to bed before we’re drunk enough not to be able to set about getting beds made up. I let Amalie and Alyssa use the bathroom while I find something to watch on the TV and grab a clean pair of pajamas.

  I take a very quick shower to freshen up, seeing as I can still smell a whiff of chlorine from the jacuzzi earlier, then I let my hair down and brush it and my teeth before pulling the door open.

  I expect the hallway to be empty, but when I lift my eyes I find that it’s very much not.

  “Shit,” I mutter under my breath as he just stands there, taking up all the space with his wide frame and sucking all the air out. “Excuse me.”

  “Why?” he taunts. “Want to finish what we started?” His scent hits my nose and my mind takes me back to earlier. I remember how it felt when he put his hands, his lips, on me. My knees weaken, and I fight the urge to lean toward him to do as he just suggested.

  “Get out of my way. I’ve got friends waiting.” I duck under his arm, and surprisingly he allows me to escape. That is, until he opens his mouth.

  “Ah, that’s right. Birthday girl
Camila is celebrating the big one eight. What fun that must be to be able to have a good time.”

  My muscles lock as guilt overwhelms me. I shouldn’t have flown off the handle earlier. He’s right, it’s not fair that I get to do whatever I want for my birthday and ruin the only thing he had. I haven’t even seen any presents around the house pointing to the fact that his mom remembered.

  I reach out and grab the doorframe, suddenly feeling very sick at the realization that no one’s done a thing for him.

  “I hope you all have fun,” he spits before disappearing into the bathroom where I just was.

  I blow out a long, slow breath. I feel awful. It doesn’t matter how horrible he’s been to me or what he’s done, the truth of the matter is that the boy I knew and loved is still buried in there somewhere, and he’s crying out for something special today. My eyes burn with emotion as I rack my brain for something I can do to make his day not a complete waste, but it’s so late. I guess I could get in touch with Ethan and restart the party, but something tells me he wouldn’t want that now anyway.

  With a huge sigh, I push my door open and crawl onto my bed.

  “Hey, you okay?” Amalie asks, dragging her eyes away from what’s on the TV.

  “Yeah, I’m good. Just tired.”

  “You want us to turn this off?”

  “No, no, it’s okay.”

  I cuddle down under my sheets with the lights from the flashing around me and the noise barely registering. The sound I do hear loud and clear though is that of Mason leaving the bathroom and shutting himself back in his room.

  I have no idea how long I lie there, tossing and turning with the weight of what I did today pressing down on me, but eventually the TV gets turned off and the sound of the girls sleeping around me fills the room.

  There’s still a low beat coming from Mason’s music next door. It’s not loud enough to keep me awake, but as I lie here, it’s all I can focus on.

  He’s in there. Alone on his birthday. It’s wrong. So wrong.

  Making a snap decision, I throw the sheets back and let my feet drop to the carpet. I’m silent as I make my way to the door and ever so slowly crack it open. The glow from the light out here fills the room, but no one stirs and I slip out into the hallway.