Shameless (Loving Fallon Book 1 - Cassandra Delecroix

One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty

Copyright

Shameless

Copyright© 2016 by Cassandra Delecroix

All rights reserved. This book is meant for entertainment purposes only. Names, characters and events are all products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. All comments and conversations written within these pages are part of a fictional story and are not meant to be taken in the literal sense. This book may not be reproduced or distributed in any format without the permission of the author. The author acknowledges the trademarked status of products referred to in this book. Trademarks have been used without permission.

One I walk aimlessly down the sidewalk, no particular destination in mind. Boredom has always been my enemy, and I’m looking to ease it tonight. As I wander down the unfamiliar sidewalks, I let my gaze drift around at the houses lining the street. I’ve been walking for a while, and this area seems busier, and every so often, a car drives past. People are out and about, driveways full as residents—likely college students— throw parties or have friends over. I’m guessing that this is a rental

neighborhood, because I can hear loud music escaping from multiple homes. The university must not be too far from here. A couple walks past me, the girl clutching the guy’s arm as she giggles. I politely step aside and pull my long, dark hair away from my face. It’s hot tonight. I’m in one of my usual tanks and a pair of my favorite jean shorts, my feet bare in my Converse sneakers. I hadn’t figured that I’d have to walk this far to find a party, and the heat is taking its toll on me. There has to be a party somewhere around here that I can crash. I’d passed a few a couple of blocks back, but they

hadn’t been big enough for me to blend in unnoticed. A soft sigh escapes me, and as I pass by a house, a dog barks and lunges towards me from the front yard. I tense, ready to flee, until I realize it’s on a chain, and it’s abruptly yanked to a halt. Feeling relieved, I move on and absently wonder if I’m going to be able to find my way back to my aunt’s house. The sound of tires squealing reaches my ears, and I peer down the block to see the bright red taillights of a car as it speeds off down the street. This block is lined with bumper to bumper cars, so there must be a party up ahead. I continue walking, and as I approach

the end of the block, the corner house across the street has a party going in full swing. Loud music can be heard from the open windows, and it looks like the inside is packed. A small group of people linger on the steps of the house, chatting and smoking. My mood brightens. Perfect. As I approach the street to cross it, I notice a couple standing by a sports car parked at the curb along the side street. They seem to be arguing. “Fuck off, Blake,” I hear the woman snap as she spins on her heels and stalks off towards the house, the moonlight reflecting off her blonde hair as it sways

behind her. The man—I can’t see much but for his shadow—watches her for a minute before he turns and opens the driver’s side door of the car. Now that the fight is over, I look down the street, and upon not seeing any cars, I begin to cross it as I hear an engine rev—probably the man and his car. Bright headlights suddenly shine upon me, and I look up to see that the car is abruptly pulling away from the curb and headed straight for me. There is no time to jump aside because he’s going too fast. A horn blares, tires squeal, and then I feel the impact as the car knocks me

aside. I land a few feet away in a heap on the pavement, and I lie there, unmoving, as I draw in a deep lungful of air. Shit. Getting hit by a car was not part of the plan tonight. A car door opens and slams shut. Footsteps rush over, and I sense someone leaning over me. “Oh fuck, no, no, no. This can’t be happening,” a masculine voice says with alarm. Pain is starting to register, but I’m relieved that it only seems to be located around my right hip and thigh. Nothing else hurts, and I am lucky that I hadn’t hit my head.

Unfamiliar hands touch my neck, searching for my pulse. My eyes quickly fly open. “I’m alive,” I mutter as I roll onto my back, wincing. A face hovers over my own, and I blink as I study the guy leaning over me. I expected him to be older, but he looks to be my age. Headlights are shining on us, and his hair is a light blond, his eyes an indistinct dark color. He gazes down at me. “I didn’t see you,” he says grimly. “Yeah, I kind of figured.” “Hey, she okay? Should I call for an ambulance?” I turn my head to find that the small

group that had been hanging on the steps of the house are now standing at the curb, staring at us. The very last thing I need is to end up in the ER. I have enough problems without adding a medical bill to them. “I’m fine.” I struggle to sit up, my hip protesting, but I ignore it. I’m somewhat disoriented from the fall, but the world quickly rights itself. The guy—the one who hit me with his car—backs up to give me a little breathing room, and he frowns at me doubtfully. “Are you sure?” “I’ll survive.” I peer down at myself, making note of a few scrapes on my knees, and my right palm stings. Except

for the throbbing pain in my hip, I seem to be fine. I glance at the crowd at the curb. “Honestly, I’m fine. No one needs to call anyone,” I assure. The guy kneeling beside me sighs with resignation. “We should call the authorities.” “Is that what you want?” I ask, peering at him. His eyes lock on mine, and now that I can see them more clearly, they look dark brown. “It should be reported.” I glance where the crowd had been, only to find that it’s dispersed. I turn back to him, holding out a hand. “Help me up.” He looks like he wants to protest, but

then he takes my hand, his warm palm sliding against my own. I draw my legs beneath me, and he gently tugs me up until I am standing. My hip is throbbing like a bitch, but everything else seems to be working just fine. I pull my hand out of his. “Look, I’m fine. Let’s just forget this ever happened,” I suggest. He’s looking at me with bewilderment now. “Why would you do that?” “Are you that anxious to have the police involved? You’re looking at a drug test, breathalyzer, and whatever else they do when someone hits someone else with their car,” I point out dryly.

He falls silent. “You’ve probably been drinking, and the last thing I need is medical bills. Really, I’m fine.” He regards me with those dark eyes of his. “I can take you to the hospital and pay your medical bill for you. I’m good for it, I swear.” “All they’re going to tell me is my hip is bruised.” He’s quiet once more, his hands tucked in his jeans pockets. I glance at the car we’re standing in front of, it’s a red Camaro with black racing stripes. Sweet ride. “You should move your car before someone comes along.”

“So you’re serious about walking away from this and not reporting it?” he asks tentatively. “Yeah.” I want to get out of here before another car comes along, and now that my night is ruined, I’m wanting to go back to my aunt’s house. “I’d say it was nice to meet you, but it really wasn’t. Next time, watch for pedestrians.” With that said, I turn and begin walking across the street in the direction I’d came from. I’m doing my best not to limp, but it’s a lost cause. I start down the sidewalk, mentally counting how many blocks I think I’ve walked since leaving my aunt’s. It’s going to be an excruciatingly

long walk. “Wait!” I stop and turn to watch as the guy jogs over in my direction. He pauses once he reaches me, and his eyes drift down my body in the dim light provided from the corner street light. His eyes settle on my hip and he frowns. “How long of a walk do you have?” “Long enough,” I say a tad sourly. I’m in pain, and it’s beginning to make me crabby. “Well then, let me drive you wherever you’re headed. It’s the least I can do,” he offers. My eyes narrow. “How much have

you had to drink tonight?” “Not much. I wasn’t distracted from alcohol, I was distracted over a fight I had with my girlfriend,” he explains. “Do you want that ride?” “I think I’m going to take you up on your offer,” I agree. There’s no way I’m going to be able to walk back on my own. We begin walking down the sidewalk towards his car, and I feel him studying me. “You’re really hurting, aren’t you?” he asks guiltily. “It’s better than being broken.” “True.” We cross the street, and he hurries to open the passenger door of his car for

me. I gingerly walk over and carefully ease myself into the seat. Once my feet are tucked inside, the guy closes the door. His car smells like it’s new, and his cologne permeates the air. I’ve never cared before how a guy smells unless he has a stench radiating from him, but this guy’s cologne smells really good. Out of curiosity, I look around, and even in the dark, I can tell that the car is kept clean. A second later, we’re pulling away from the curb. “I’m Blake,” he introduces. “Fallon,” I murmur. I stare out my window, watching the houses pass by. “Fallon? That’s a unique name.” I shrug in response. I’m not much of a

talker. I learned a long time ago that people don’t really care what I have to say. He’s simply giving me a ride home because he feels guilty. “Where were you headed?” he asks curiously. “A party.” “Sorry I ruined your plans.” “It could have been worse,” I say. He falls silent and slows the car down at a four-way stop. “Where am I headed?” “Decauter Street.” We cruise through the four-way stop, and he glances at me again. “Decauter, eh? That would have been a real bitch of a walk.”

“Yep. I figured you were the lesser of the two evils.” “Thanks,” he says dryly. He seems to know where he’s going, so I settle back in the seat and stare out the windshield. “What are you going to say when your parents ask about your hip?” he asks quietly. “I live with my aunt, and she’s gone a lot. She probably won’t even notice.” I’m thankful when he doesn’t ask anything else, and a few minutes later, he pulls onto Decauter. “Which house?” He slows the Camaro down to a crawl as he awaits my answer. “Down at the very end, by the

corner.” He presses down on the gas, and we drive further down the street. “Right here,” I say, gesturing at the single story house to the right of us. He immediately pulls into the driveway and lets the car idle. “It doesn’t look like she’s home,” he comments, and I can hear the frown in his voice. “She works second shift.” I reach for the handle and push open the door. “Wait. Are you going to be okay on your own?” Blake asks with concern. I turn to peer at him. “A bruise isn’t going to kill me. It’s not like I hit my head or anything.”

“It just doesn’t feel right to leave you alone.” “I’ll be fine.” I gingerly climb out of the car and carefully shut the door. Blake climbs out as well and looks at me from over the top of the car. “I should give you my number in case you have any problems with your hip. I meant it when I said I’d pay for any medical bills.” “Go, I’m fine.” I wave him off and start walking stiffly towards the front door. I’m relieved when he doesn’t persist, and I am conscious of his eyes on me until I open the door and slip inside. Headlights shine across the living room

as Blake backs his car out of the driveway. A loud groan escapes me, and I slowly make my way towards the bedroom located at the very back of the house. I just want to take some pain reliever and go to bed.

~*~ By the time Monday rolls around, I can walk without limping—that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt, though. I consider myself quite lucky since the accident could have been much worse. I don’t have a car, so the only way to and from anywhere is to walk. Thankfully, my aunt lives about eight blocks from the local high school, and in the opposite direction, it’s about nine or ten blocks to downtown. Everything is within walking distance. I’d be up shit creek if I’d broken an ankle, leg, or hip. As I walk down the sidewalk, my backpack slung over my shoulder, I set my jaw and think about the upcoming

day. I’m absolutely dreading my first day at my new school. I’m going to hate the stares, the whispers, and the attention that being new will bring me. The only time I like attention is when a guy is giving it to me, otherwise, I like to fade into the background. It’s not like I have to go to school, because there isn’t a single adult in my life that would insist that I go or threaten me if I skipped. I could actually choose to turn around and not bother finishing my senior year, but I don’t want to end up like my mom. I’m desperate to make something of myself, and that means graduating. School has always been my least

favorite thing to do. I’m pretty sure every teenager feels that way, but I have my reasons for hating it, and it has nothing to do with the never-ending pile of homework. No, it has more to do with the fact that I can’t help myself, and I inevitably become the school slut. You see, there’s this cycle that I seem to go through, and it’s impossible to break. I know exactly how my senior year is going to play out here in this city. Friends will be impossible to make, so it’s pointless trying. I learned a long time ago that I can’t keep them and they always leave. Of course, it’s my own fault that they turn their backs on me. They either get sick of competing with

me for a guy’s attention, or they get pissed when I inevitably sleep with their boyfriend. I can’t seem to resist any cute guy that gives me attention. It doesn’t matter if they have a girlfriend—I’m too addicted to the exhilaration I feel when a guy wants me, of having his undivided attention during sex. It’s the only time I ever feel wanted, and I’ve grown obsessed with feeling ‘wanted.’ I know that I’m messed up. My past isn’t a pretty one, and it’s shaped me into the person that I am today. It’s a struggle each and every day to not be like my mom, but the sex I just can’t deny. I have no self-restraint, and I know that I am more like her than I want

to be, and it scares me. I know I’ll never outgrow the desperation of feeling needed, but I can at least control all the other aspects of my life. I’m not going to drop out of school, and I refuse to go down the same path she had. I have every intention of graduating and somehow going to college to better my future. Drugs will never be a part of my life, neither will an unwanted pregnancy, or an abusive boyfriend, or even prostitution. I am and will be better than that. I pause on the sidewalk and stare at the school before me. It’s a looming, two-story brick structure that has me feeling on edge. I will be spending the

rest of my senior year within that building, and I am not looking forward to it. I know there is one thing that has to change this year. If I want any hope of avoiding fights or pranks, I need to stay away from the guys that are taken. I need to survive this year and graduate. I tell myself that college will be different, it won’t be as bad. Just eight more months of this misery, and then things will get better. With a soft, resigned sigh, I start walking towards the school. I receive a few curious looks as I pass by students lingering on the sidewalk. After mentally bracing myself, I go up the concrete

steps and enter the school once I pass through the metal detectors. I try not to look at anyone or pay much attention to the groups of students in the lobby. My only goal today is to focus on locating all my classes and getting there on time. I would hate to have to stand in front of the entire class and give my name to the teacher while everyone gawks at me. Definitely not my idea of fun. The office isn’t too hard to find, and after I receive my schedule, I walk down the crowded hallway in hopes of finding my first class. I’ll track down my locker later. My eyes happen to connect with dark brown ones, and I blink with surprise

when I see Blake. He’s standing at a locker with the pretty blonde from Friday night, but his eyes are completely focused on me. He even quits talking in mid-sentence as his eyes follow me as I walk by. His girlfriend frowns and looks in my direction, and she promptly scowls when she realizes that her boyfriend is staring at another girl. Not wanting to cause any trouble within the first five minutes of my arrival, I quickly drop my eyes and hurry past. Blake is hot as hell. I’d been in too much pain Friday night to care much, but now in broad daylight, he’s cuter than I’d thought. He also has a girlfriend— he’d even said so himself. Hot or not, I

need to control myself and not instigate anything with him. This year is going to be different, I remind myself firmly. The rest of the morning flies by, and at lunch, I hide out in the library. Eating alone in the cafeteria has always been a form of torture, and I plan on avoiding that embarrassment as much as possible. As for the other students, no one really goes out of their way to talk to me. The guys look at me with interest, and the girls look at me almost warily. They can sense I’m competition or I’m trouble, and no one wants to take a chance on befriending me. It’s better this way anyway, so I don’t

mind. After the final bell rings for the day, I’m relieved and follow the crowd as they exit the school. Okay, so my first day of school went better than I’d expected, but I’m sure it won’t last. I make my way past the school parking lot and start down the sidewalk to head back to my aunt’s. Numerous cars pass by, and a few even honk their horns or guys yell crude things out their windows. I ignore them until I spy a flash of red in the corner of my eye. I look up and recognize Blake’s red and black Camaro driving past. His head turns as he meets my gaze, his eyes holding mine briefly before he faces

forward and the Camaro drives off. I return my attention to walking, and my mind drifts. I’d learned a few things today by eavesdropping on conversations. Blake’s been dating Camilla, his girlfriend, for years. Also, Blake and Camilla are quite popular and so are their friends. Honestly, they sound like your average, popular, high school couple. Blake is the school’s star quarterback, and Camilla is the top tier of the school’s social hierarchy. It’s also rumored that Camilla is very territorial over Blake, and that she’ll take down anyone that dares to smile flirtatiously at him. If I want to keep my original goal of

focusing on graduating, I need to stay far away from the likes of Blake Cavanaugh. It’s not like I’m worried about Camilla, because I’ve come across every kind of scumbag imaginable, so she definitely doesn’t scare me. Not much does these days. When I arrive at my Aunt Catherine’s house, I let myself in and walk past the beige living room and down the hall to my bedroom. I blink with surprise when I find a note taped to the door. Wariness immediately surfaces as I take the note down and scan it. This is not a vacation. Find yourself a job and pay for your own groceries and expenses. I swallow the lump that has

developed in my throat, and the ache in my chest threatens to intensify and expand, rendering me immobile. Feeling a little unsteady, I back up until I am leaning against the wall in the hallway, and my eyes close as my fist crumples the note into a ball. My mom’s voice echoes in my head. “When the fuck did I tell you to come out of your room?! Get back in there!” “But Mama, I’m hungry.” “Do I look like I care? Go back to your room and I’ll bring you something later.” “But you always forget—” “Go away!” My mom’s screaming voice has me

flinching, and I try to shake off the memory. Instead of allowing it to bring me down, I open my eyes and pull myself together, taking deep, slow breaths. Fine. I’ll get a job. It’s exactly what I need anyway, and at least my mom isn’t around to steal money from me. My earnings will finally be all mine. With grim resolve, I push off from the wall and enter the bedroom that I can call ‘home’ until the day I graduate. The room is simple since Catherine hadn’t put much effort into decorating her guestroom. The walls are yellow and

bare, the carpet an off-white. Sunflowerthemed curtains hang from the two windows, giving the room a little character. One window faces the side yard and the street corner, and the other looks over the backyard. I drop my backpack on the twin bed and turn away to dig through the dresser drawers that hold my meager assortment of clothing. I want to dress nicely in hopes of making a good impression. Once I slip into a respectable, tan skirt and one of the few nice shirts that I own, I leave the house and begin walking towards downtown. Maybe a store within walking distance will be hiring. I really am in desperate need of a car, and

I have until graduation to buy one. If I don’t have one by that time, life is going to get very tough seeing as I’ll need a job and a place to live. I don’t know how I am going to do all this on my own, but I’m determined to make it work. I need to concentrate on taking care of myself, and transportation is imperative. Once I have that sorted, I’ll start worrying about the rest.

Two The next morning, I wake up feeling momentarily disoriented until I recall that I am in Ohio and living with Catherine. My chest tightens when I think of the abandonment I’d felt when I’d come home from school a mere week ago, only to find my mom gone. She’d moved out while I’d been at school and had stolen all of the cash I’d managed to hide from her. To be honest, our relationship had always been rocky at best. She’d just barely tolerated me, so I shouldn’t have been surprised that she’d taken off without a backward glance. My options had been very limited

since I’m not eighteen. Instead of dropping out of school and getting a fulltime job, I’d left Illinois and hitchhiked here in hopes that my mom’s sister would be generous enough to allow me to stay with her. All I need is a roof over my head until I graduate. I’d known that Catherine probably wouldn’t welcome me with open arms. My mom had complained a lot about her younger sister over the years, and I’d learned that their relationship had been severed after my mom had slept with Catherine’s fiancé years ago. Catherine had actually shut the door in my face when she’d seen me standing on her doorstep, but after begging for her

to hear me out, she’d reluctantly agreed to listen to what I had to say. I feel ashamed when I think back to that day, but I remind myself that the end result is worth the shame and humiliation of groveling. I’m quite certain the only reason she’s allowing me to stay is because she’s getting some satisfaction over her sister’s daughter actually needing her. She’s been nothing but mean and barely tolerable of my presence. I can tell that she’s enjoying inflicting a bit of revenge upon me, even though it was my mom’s sins that caused Catherine’s pain, not my own. But hey, at least I have a roof over my head.

So here I am. With a soft sigh, I pull back the sheets and pick out fresh clothing before heading to the bathroom. The door has a lock on the knob, and I press it inwards to guarantee privacy. After turning on the shower, I peer at myself in the mirror as I wait for the water to heat. Physically—I am the younger version of my mother. We both have long, dark brown hair, and I’ve been tempted to cut mine to help rid me of our similarity, but I can’t imagine myself with short hair. I also have her almond shaped hazel eyes, with naturally long eyelashes. I’d once heard one of her boyfriend’s call them ‘bedroom eyes.’ I prefer to describe

mine as sultry, and I’ve learned that if I’m not careful, I come across as flirty even when I’m not trying to be. The only thing that really differentiates us is that she’s older and taller. She’s five-seven, and I’m fivethree. As for my father, my mom claims to have no idea who he is. I’ll never know which of the many men she’d slept with could have been the one to father me. Judging by the men she’s dated or slept with in the past, I’m better off not knowing. Steam is starting to collect on the mirror, and I turn and step into the shower. As I wash up, I think of my new job at a candy store. It’s about ten blocks

from Catherine’s house, so it’s going to be quite a walk to and from the store, but it’ll be worth it. I start Wednesday, and I’m looking forward to having something to do in the evenings. At least things are starting to fall into place, and I can begin controlling the direction my life is taking. After I finish my shower, I quickly put on fresh clothes, dry my hair, grab two Pop-tarts, and leave for school. Before I can reach my first class, I spy Blake and Camilla standing where they’d been yesterday morning, and they seem to be arguing. I quickly duck my head and continue walking past, trying to go unnoticed. I’m oddly pleased that they

seem to be having problems, but I’m also feeling guilty. I shouldn’t feel any satisfaction over any issues that they’re having. Besides, Blake is completely out of my league. I’ve been with guys like him in the past. All I am to those types is a quick lay, and then I’m someone to forget about. Guys like him don’t ‘see’ girls like me.

~*~ On Wednesday, the walk from school to the candy store turns out to be longer than I’d anticipated, and I just barely make it there on time. Thankfully, I’d changed into my uniform shirt before leaving school. I’m also lucky that it’s not raining today. A guy named Jason is training me, and after I slip on the rainbow-striped apron, we spend the first few hours of my shift going over all the merchandise. The store is quite large with burgundy walls and wood flooring. All the accents and shelving are white, and there are several small, round tables at the front of the store with curvy, wrought-iron

chairs. Not only does the store carry every kind of candy imaginable, but there’s also coffee upfront by the register and counter. I have no idea how I’m going to keep track of all the different flavors of everything, and Jason just smiles and tells me it’ll come with time. After watching Jason interact with the customers, he has me work behind register for a while. I’m still behind the counter when Jason walks over later, a scowl on his face. He adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose and glances towards the side of the store. “I swear, every night we have to tell them to turn down

the music.” I tilt my head and listen, and I can hear faint rock music mixing in with the store’s light pop/rock that’s playing from the overhead speakers. I look at him questioningly. “The tattoo shop next door likes to turn up the music in the evenings.” He suddenly grins. “You can have the honors tonight.” “You want me to go ask them to turn down their music?” “It’s part of the job, so you’d better get used to it. Just walk in there and ask them to turn it down,” he explains. Then his attention shifts as a woman and her two kids walk up to the counter with a

candy bouquet. Feeling momentarily unsure, I stand there for another second before turning away to fulfill his request. I doubt it’s going to be as easy as he’d claimed, and I hadn’t missed the look of gleeful relief in his blue eyes once his gaze had fallen upon me. I walk next door and open the glass door, entering the tattoo shop. The music is quite loud, and I grimace at the decibel it’s at. There’s loud, and then there’s loud. The tattoo shop’s front room is smaller than the candy store, and there are tattoo designs on the walls and large books to browse through. A few red,

plush couches take up the center of the room, and more books lay upon a table. The shop is casual with barely any décor. The focal point is all the tattoo designs—as it should be since that’s what the shop is selling. I walk past a few people and ignore their smirks when they catch sight of me in my colorful apron. I wander towards the back where there’s a glass-encased counter, and a woman with short, black hair with red tips stands behind it, looking bored. She looks up, and amusement enters her gaze as she takes in my apron. She straightens and folds her arms over her chest, bringing attention to the tattoos that line

both her forearms. Her lip piercing catches the light as she smirks at me. “Well, if it isn’t Princess Lolly. Did you take a wrong turn somewhere along the way to Lollypop Fields?” she mocks. I have no idea what she means by that comment, and it must show on my face. She snorts. “Candyland,” she says in a patronizing tone. I still don’t understand, and I’m betting it’s not worth inquiring about. When she realizes her reply still isn’t making any sense to me, she stares. “The board game. My God, you’re worse than the last girl they hired,” she scoffs. Board games were never a part of my childhood, but I’m not going to tell her

that. I’m also not about to let her continue treating me this way. “Your music is too loud,” I say simply. “Do I look like I care?” I move off, striding towards the back hall. “Nope, but I bet your manager won’t appreciate you allowing people in the back.” “Hey!” The woman grabs my arm just as I’m about to enter the hall, bringing me up short. I pointedly look down at the painful grip she has on me. “Does your manager know that you physically accost people in the store?” She flushes angrily, abruptly

releasing me. “Why you little—” “What is going on here?” a masculine voice cuts in. We both look up. A guy stands there with his arms crossed over his broad chest, and he looks vaguely familiar to me. I can’t place where I’ve seen him, but I’m positive I’ve seen that handsome face and those gray eyes of his before. “I was looking for the manager,” I explain to him. His eyes flicker to the tatted woman. “You know you shouldn’t have the music that loud.” She glares at him, looking defensive now. “It’s not that loud.”

“If they’re coming in here, it is.” His eyes shift back to me and they roam over my face. “C’mon.” Then he turns and walks over to the counter. Since he seems to have more of a say around here than she does, I ignore the woman and follow him. He looks too young to be her manager or a tattooist. I wonder what his actual job description is. Maybe he’s the cleaning guy or something. No…if he were, he wouldn’t be bossing around the pissed off woman that is likely glaring daggers into my back. I watch as he adjusts the knob on a sound system before turning back to me. “Better?” he asks.

“Yes, thank you.” He nods, his eyes drifting over me and lingering on the rainbow-colored apron. Now that the music has been successfully turned down, I flash him a smile and turn to leave the shop. I have a job I have to get back to.

~*~ When I exit the school for the day, I find that it’s pouring out. The weather matches my mood, and as I leave the dry shelter of the building, the rain soaks me from head to toe. I duck my head and ignore the other students rushing off to their vehicles. Thankful to be putting distance between myself and the school, I wrap my arms around my body as I walk down the sidewalk. Why’d I do it? Why can’t I help myself? She’d been nice to me and had even invited me to sit with her and her friends at lunch. For the first time in a long time, I’d found myself trying to fit in, but then I’d messed it all up. I’d

ended up flirting with her boyfriend right in front of her. When I’d seen the interest in his gaze, I hadn’t been able to help myself, and I’d pounced without thinking. The ache in my chest begins to expand. Will I always be like this? So needy and desperate for affection? Am I ever going to experience it? Will I even recognize the genuineness of it if it ever happens? I haven’t a clue what it feels like to be cared about. I grew up feeling unwanted and unloved, and I have nothing to base love or affection on. All I’ve ever really known is lust and greed. Does that stop me from searching for the one thing I’ve never known? Nope. I’m

also not a complete fool. When I’m with guys, it’s all false illusions—I’m aware of that. “Fallon!” I’m abruptly brought back to the present when I hear my name. I look up, blinking against the rain to see Blake’s car idling in the street, the passenger window down as he peers out at me from the driver’s seat. He’s in the lane closest to me, which means he’d driven past, turned around somewhere and had come back. “Get in, I’ll give you a ride,” he offers. My heart leaps in my chest over his suggestion, but then I control myself. He

has a girlfriend, and I have to respect that. “Thanks, but I’m good!” I call out to him. I flash him a quick smile before ducking my head and walking further down the sidewalk. I can’t believe I’m turning him down. Blake can’t believe it either, because he backs the Camaro up so that it’s keeping pace with me. “It’s raining!” he calls out to me. I pause, peering down the street to see that no one is driving in this direction, but that won’t last for very long. I smile at him again. “I’m very much aware of that.” His eyes skim over my rain-soaked shorts and shirt. “You have a long walk,

let me give you a ride.” A car turns onto the street and drives up behind the Camaro. The driver honks their horn in annoyance, and when there’s a break in traffic in the opposite lane, they pass him. Blake glances in his rearview mirror, and then he pulls his car closer to the curb as he looks out the passenger window at me expectantly. “I’ll get your seat wet,” I point out. He reaches behind him and tosses a blanket across the passenger seat. “Problem solved.” I’ll look like a fool if I turn him down again, so without a word, I walk over. He pushes open the passenger door, and

I climb in. Once again, his cologne tantalizes my senses in the small interior of the car. Instead of thinking about how he makes me feel, I concentrate on my surroundings. The radio is playing softly, and the windshield wipers are whooshing repetitively. It’s like we’re cocooned in our own little world as it continues to rain outside. Blake glances in his side mirror before pulling out onto the street. When there’s a break in traffic headed in the opposite direction, he makes a sharp Uturn so that we’re driving away from the school. “Thanks,” I murmur. “No problem.”

There’s an awkward silence, and I gaze out my window. “How’s your hip?” I bite back a coy reply. “It’s fine.” From the corner of my eye, I see him glance at me. “Not much of a talker, are you?” His comment has me turning my head to look at him, and I find myself caught up in his rich, dark chocolate gaze. He is so dang fine to look at, and my gaze drifts over his cheek bones, his nose, and then his firm, masculine lips. Everything about him is pure perfection. When it dawns on me that I’m staring, I tear my eyes from his to stare out the windshield. I shrug, not really giving

him an answer to his question. I can feel his gaze on me for a second longer until he turns his attention back to the road. “You don’t have a car?” he asks lightly. “No.” “So you walk every day?” “Yes.” His questions are causing me to feel oddly nervous. I’m not accustomed to people showing much interest in me, and I reach down for my backpack at my feet. In need of a distraction, I dig around the front pocket for my lip gloss, and I begin to reapply it. “Is it just me, or are you this quiet with everyone?” Blake asks bluntly.

I look at him sheepishly and recap the lip gloss. “This is normal for me.” His brown eyes connect with mine. “I’m thinking you’ve been hanging around the wrong people if they let you get away with one-word answers for everything.” I look away, now a little uncertain. I’m typically confident, but Blake throws me off for some reason. Blake soon pulls into Catherine’s driveway. He puts the car in park and turns to look at me, his eyes curiously watchful. I reach down for my backpack, trying to avoid those eyes that seem so irresistible to me. “Thanks for the ride,”

I murmur. “You’re welcome.” After climbing out into the rain, I lightly shut the Camaro’s door and make a dash for the front door. Blake politely waits until I am inside before backing out of the driveway.

Three On Thursday, I work with Brittany. She seems nice enough, and she explains that she’s attending Ohio State and working at the store part-time. She’s one of those easy-going, bubbly types, and it’s a relief not to have to make polite chit-chat since she seems to enjoy doing all the talking. I nod when I’m supposed to as I let her chatter non-stop to me between customers, and I soon learn more than I want to about her boyfriend and her best friend. As the evening wears on, I find myself thinking about my future. I am desperate to prove to myself that I will

never turn into my mother. I need to be better than her, and I want to know what it feels like to be truly in control of my life. The only way I’m going to be able to accomplish that is by going to college and choosing my future path. I want to graduate with a degree, get a job, and maybe even buy a house. When it’s time for my break, I slip off my apron with a sense of determination building within my gut. I don’t care if I have to work two jobs in order to attend college, I’ll do whatever is necessary to chase after the future that I’ve been dreaming of for so long. I’m going to find my way in this cruel world and carve out a little place for myself.

The bell jingles above me as I exit the store and step out onto the sidewalk. I could have sat in the backroom, but I need a break from all the peppy music that continuously plays over the intercom. When I’d arrived for my shift, I’d noted a bench located between the candy store and the tattoo shop. It’d been empty earlier, and I’m hoping that I can snag it so that I can people-watch as I enjoy the fresh air. I’m halfway to the bench when I notice that someone’s already claimed it. It’s the guy who had intervened yesterday at the tattoo shop, and I hesitate. He’s sitting with his legs

sprawled out, and he’s smoking a cigarette. His short, dark brown hair is a little wild tonight, but it just makes him look even more attractive. When he senses me standing there, slate gray eyes connect with mine. In natural light, I note that his eyes are dark gray with blue undertones. With his tanned skin and dark hair, they are very striking. I debate what to do. I’m not really in the mood to go find another bench, and I know from my walk here that they are few and far between. I suppose I could always stop in at one of the numerous fast food restaurants in the area, but I don’t have any money. In the end, I

decide that benches are typically made for more than one person. I motion to the opposite end. “May I?” He blows out a puff of smoke, giving me an appraising look as he waves me towards the empty side of the bench. I sit down, relieved to be off my feet. “Needed a break from all that music, eh?” “Something like that.” His eyes shift to the front window of the candy shop, and I follow his gaze to see a mother with two little kids entering the store. “You must have a lot of patience,” he comments. We watch as one of the children runs over to a jelly

bean dispenser and several scatter onto the floor. His mother quickly rushes over to admonish him. “I need the paycheck.” Feeling curious about where I’ve seen him before, I study the handsome lines of his face as he lifts the cigarette back to his lips. “I think I’ve seen you at school.” He blows smoke in the opposite direction so that it doesn’t drift into my face. “Probably.” I look towards the tattoo shop. “Don’t you have to be older to work there?” “I’m apprenticing and doing grunt work. I’ve known the owner since I was a kid,” he replies. “So you’re training so you can one

day do tattoos?” I ask with interest. “Yes.” “That sounds interesting.” He flicks aside the butt of his cigarette and rises to his feet. “Break’s over. Later.” I watch him walk into the tattoo shop, and loud music filters out onto the sidewalk before the door closes. Then, no longer distracted by the cute guy from next door, I absently rub my tender elbow. I’d landed on it in gym class earlier in the day. Soccer is not a game that I enjoy, and I’m definitely not coordinated enough for it. Blake infiltrates my mind, and today, I’d once again found myself wondering

if he’d offer me a ride. He hadn’t, just like he hadn’t on Wednesday, either. I wish I could get him off my mind, because it’s obvious that he’d simply pitied me on Tuesday since it’d been raining. Irritation rises within me. I hate it when people pity me, and I absolutely can’t stand being looked down upon simply because I can’t afford the things that others can. I’d had to deal with a lot of that back at my old school, and they’d acted as if the price of clothing and jewelry automatically made them better than everyone else. God, I hate those types. I close my eyes. Someday, I am going

to fit in. When my break is over, I shrug off my melancholy mood and try to be as friendly as I can. I work the rest of my shift with a bright smile, and I pretend to be someone else. Eventually, my shift ends, and I wave at Brittany as she begins to lock up the store for the night. I start down the sidewalk, dreading the long walk ahead when all I really want to do is go to bed. It’s hard being cheerful for hours on end, and I feel drained. My arms wrap around myself as I walk past stores and restaurants before reaching the first block of houses. I don’t mind walking past the storefront windows, but I’m a little more on edge

walking past residences. Growing up with my mother and her numerous boyfriends had taught me to always be on guard. My attention shifts to the rumbling sound of a motorcycle, and I look up as one pulls over to the curb beside me. I don’t recognize the man’s dark shadow, and I quickly begin speed walking away, my heart pounding faster in my chest. My right hand clutches my backpack strap on my shoulder, and I start cursing the fact that I’d lost my pepper spray somewhere between Illinois and Ohio—thank God I hadn’t needed it while I’d been hitchhiking. The loud engine cuts off behind me.

Shit. Running might be a good idea right about now. “Hey, Candy Girl!” Candy Girl? The voice sounds oddly familiar, and I pause, turning around. The bright headlight of the motorcycle is shining in my eyes, and I raise a hand against the glare as I squint at the guy. I watch him swing a leg over the motorcycle, and then he begins walking towards me. I tense, ready to beat a hasty retreat if he so much as twitches in a threatening manner. He pauses in front of me, towering over me slightly. “I shared my bench with you today, remember?”

Now that he’s closer, I recognize him as the hottie from the tattoo shop. “Right. Did you need something? I mean…” “You walk to and from work every night?” he asks, studying me. “Maybe,” I hedge, not wanting to give away any personal information. Cute or not, he’s still a stranger. “How far do you have to walk?” Instead of answering, I am silent. I’d instinctively trusted Blake. This guy is different. He’s harder, edgier. I can sense something within him, something dark. “I’ll give you a ride,” he offers. My gut is warning me to tread carefully with this one, so I follow my

instincts. “I don’t have all that far to go. I’ll be fine.” His head cocks a little to the side. “I could have sworn I saw you on Thomas Street last night, and that’s still several blocks away.” He’d seen me walking last night? Now I’m extremely uncomfortable, and I shift on my feet, ready to run. “Glad you’re cautious, but a long walk like that isn’t ideal for someone as young and pretty as you are,” he says, noting my body is alert and ready to jump into action. He digs into his pocket and holds something out to me. “Here.” He isn’t holding whatever it is in a threatening manner, and because I’m the

curious type, I tentatively hold out my palm. He drops something into it. It looks like a switchblade, and I press the switch. A blade shoots out, glinting in the motorcycle’s headlight. He’s just given me a knife, and my fear slowly ebbs as I peer up at him. If he was looking for trouble tonight, he wouldn’t have given me a weapon. “Why are you giving me this?” “You feel safer with it?” he asks bluntly. “It’s a nice blade,” I murmur, not bothering to answer his question. I test the blade with the tip of my nail. “Shut that thing, and you can hold onto it as I give you a ride home.”

The last of my fear fades as my gaze shifts to the motorcycle. I’ve never been on one before, and I’ve always wanted to ride one. My eyes return to him, and his broad shoulders are blocking some of the light from the motorcycle, making it difficult for me to study his darkened features. “Do you carry this daily?” I ask, referring to the knife. “Yeah.” “But not at school?” I ask, thinking of the metal detectors. “No.” I can sense that he’s the type that’s always prepared for violence. There’s just something about him that suggests his past is probably as unpleasant as my

own. I peer down at the blade in my hand, contemplating my options. He’d offered me a weapon instead of pointless reassurances, and that has me admiring his bold personality. I decide to trust him, and I close the blade and slip it into the back pocket of my jeans. I doubt I’ll need it or else he wouldn’t have offered it, but I’m also not stupid. He’s not getting it back until I am safely in front of my aunt’s house. “I live on Decauter Street,” I tell him. “Christ, that is a walk.” We approach the motorcycle, and he climbs on, straddling it before motioning for me to sit behind him. I’m eager now that I am no longer frightened of him, and

I promptly climb on and follow his directions—wrapping my arms around his waist, my hips cradling his fine ass. My hands rest on rigid, well-defined abs, and I can tell that he’s in prime physical condition. I’m definitely attracted to him, and as we speed down the street, I find myself enjoying every second of the ride. Much too soon, he pulls into Catherine’s driveway and abruptly cuts the engine. A little reluctantly, I release him and climb off, feeling thrilled over the ride. After trying to tame my windblown hair, I reach into my pocket and pull out the switchblade. I hand it back to him. “Thanks.”

He’s still sitting on the motorcycle, and he accepts it, tucking it into his pocket. “You have a name?” “Fallon.” “Odd name, it suits you.” His eyes shift past me towards the house. “I think your mom’s mad.” I follow his gaze. Catherine is standing in front of the living room window, her arms crossed over her chest. If I’d known that Catherine had the evening off, I would have had the hottie drop me off a block away. Catherine’s a nurse and works second shift. Thanks to her schedule, we don’t cross paths too often. “She’s not my mom,” I mutter.

He studies me before nodding and starting the motorcycle. Time to go face Catherine. I turn and walk towards the house as I hear the motorcycle back out of the driveway, and then roar off down the street. The second I enter the house, Catherine blocks my path—her full cheeks red with anger, and her hazel eyes are spitting fire at me. She’s bigger than me, and even though she doesn’t look like the type to physically be aggressive, I still find myself alert to her every move. Right now, her arms are still folded over her ample chest, but her stance is definitely confrontational. “That’s the last time you bring anyone

here. If you’re going to whore yourself out, do it at their place, not mine,” she says bitingly. I stare at her with shock and swallow back my anger. “I am not a whore,” I say quietly. If Catherine knows about my mom’s willingness to accept money for sex when she’s low on cash, that means my mom was doing it when she was younger, too. “You think I don’t see it? It’s in your eyes, it’s in the way you move. You’re just like her,” she spats. “I am not my mother,” I say calmly as I slip my backpack off my shoulder. I’m ready to drop into bed, and I’m not feeling up to a confrontation right now.

Unfortunately, Catherine’s not about to let the subject rest. “You ever have a real boyfriend?” Instead of answering, I stare back at her silently as I struggle not to show how offended I am over this conversation. I need to tread carefully with her since this is her home, not mine. She snorts. “You’re not even a virgin, are you? I’m betting you lost that a long time ago.” “I am not my mother,” I repeat, refusing to discuss my sexual history with her. It’s none of her business, but this is the price I have to pay if I want a roof over my head. She’s insisting I act respectful towards her, but she feels she

doesn’t owe me the same curtesy. Catherine unfolds her arms and waves a hand, motioning towards my body. “Go look in the mirror. You look like her, act like her, I bet you screw like her, too,” she says bitterly, her hands now settling on her curvy hips. It’s the bitterness in her tone that has me peering at her closely, and I can see a hint of jealousy in her gaze. I think I’m beginning to understand the situation better. My mom is beautiful, and Catherine is nice enough to look at, but she isn’t slim and curved in all the right places like her sister. Her features aren’t as defined or symmetrical, and her cheeks are full and round, causing her

face to appear plumper than what it is. If she’d smile more, I think she’d be more attractive, especially if she’d let her dark hair fall around her face instead of always pulling it back into a severe ponytail. I’m guessing Catherine had been jealous of my mom as they’d grown up, and I’m beginning to wonder just how unhealthy the sisters’ relationship was before my mom slept with Catherine’s fiancé. If Catherine’s this unpleasant to me, I can’t help but speculate how she’d treated my mom when they were younger. Maybe the disintegration of their relationship rests upon both their shoulders instead of just my mom’s.

Since Catherine seems to be even more irate than usual, I need to shut this conversation down before it becomes worse, and she kicks me out. “Goodnight, Catherine,” I say as politely as I can. I make a move to walk around her, but her hand shoots out and she grabs my wrist painfully, bringing me up short. I stand there—frozen—as I fight my natural instinct to introduce my fist to her face. “Don’t you walk away from me in my own home,” she says sharply, her eyes daring me to retaliate. Catherine’s never laid a hand on me before, and tonight’s argument has shown me I should never assume

anything where she’s concerned. She has a dark side of her own, and I’m not about to test it—not when I need her. Instead of yanking my wrist out of her grip, I stand still and meet her gaze without saying anything. I’m perfectly aware that she’s not punishing me, she’s punishing my mom. None of this really has anything to do with me, it all comes down to her and her sister. She squeezes my wrist painfully, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Tell me you’re sorry.” I swallow my pride. “I’m sorry, Catherine,” I repeat. On the inside, I am furious that I have to bend to her will. My past has taught

me to always stand up for myself no matter the consequences, because that’s all I really have—my pride. She’s determined to slowly chip away at it though, and I am struggling to keep her from succeeding. She abruptly releases my wrist. “Keep your food in your room. I don’t want anything of yours in my kitchen.” “But what if it needs refrigeration—” “Buy a mini refrigerator or a cooler,” she interrupts. Then, she turns and walks away. I stand there for a full minute before going to the kitchen to retrieve the small food items I’d bought the other day. When I am in the privacy of my room, I

set them on the dresser and move to the bed. I sink down onto it, my mouth feeling dry. I am not my mother.

Four Most students look forward to the weekends; I’m actually dreading it. As I walk the halls at school on Friday, a heavy feeling has settled within my chest. I don’t work again until Monday, so it’s going to be a long and miserable weekend, especially if Catherine will be around. Between classes, I stop by my locker, and I’m reaching for a text book when I sense someone approach me. No one has really gone out of their way to talk to me —except for a few guys. Oddly enough, I’ve turned down any offers to do anything with them. Catherine’s

accusations have left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I find myself a bit hesitant to fall back into my old routine. I’m more than a little shocked when I look up and find that it’s Blake. There’s a game tonight, and he’s dressed in his football jersey. I can’t help but admire how it seems to make his shoulders look even broader. His dark brown eyes meet mine. “Hey there,” he says with an infectious grin. I try not to feel too excited over his sudden appearance, and I fail miserably when I try to prevent an answering smile from forming on my lips. “Hey back,” I reply.

“You going to the game?” he asks with interest. I don’t want to come off looking like I’m crushing on him, so I turn back to my locker and reach for the text book I had been about to grab. He wants me to go to a football game? No thanks. “Nope,” I tell him. One thing I refuse to do is pretend interest in something just to keep a guy’s attention. I’m not good at pretending stuff like that, and the one time I’d tried it, I’d ended up looking like a fool. Ever since that embarrassing fiasco, I make it very clear that what you see is what you get. “There’s a party a few blocks down from your aunt’s tonight. Think you’ll

go?” he asks. I glance at him, and I like the way his dark eyes are focused so intently on me. “Maybe.” He nods as if my answer pleases him. “Maybe I’ll see you there.” He pushes off from the locker he’d been leaning against and disappears into the crowd. My earlier smile returns as I close my locker door. A party tonight is just what I need. There’s too much tension at Catherine’s house, and I need to find a way to ease the stress I’ve been dealing with since moving here.

~*~ The party Blake had mentioned is easy to find, and it’s packed and loud. There’s plenty of people my age or older dancing in a crowded living room as they work towards getting drunk or high off drugs. I don’t mind alcohol, but I won’t touch anything drug related. After witnessing firsthand my mother’s addiction to drugs, I won’t go near them. I recognize plenty of students from the school, and I join the crowd and dance as I sip from a plastic cup. The party isn’t too bad, and I dance with a few cute guys here and there. I’m betting any one of them would be willing to go somewhere private to have sex, and if it

weren’t for Blake being the one to suggest I come, I’d probably give into temptation and take off with one of them. It’s been too long since I’ve been with anyone, and even though Catherine’s accusations still sting, I can’t change who I am and what I want or need. Sex makes me feel better, and if I’m going to become addicted to something, I’d rather it be that than drugs. Drugs make you stupid, at least sex I can control. My thoughts shift back to Blake as I allow a guy to grind into me from behind as we dance. Blake has a girlfriend, so I’m not expecting him to search me out or anything, but yet I am hoping to see him—even if it’s from across the

crowded room. I don’t know why I feel so drawn to him. Is it because I’m so attracted to him that I can’t help myself from wanting to know what it’s like to be with him? If we did screw, would my fascination with him fade? Or am I growing increasingly interested because I know I can’t have him? I think he’s the first guy with a girlfriend that I’ve made it a point not to try to seduce. An hour later, I’m about to give up on watching for Blake when I spy him walking through the crowd towards me. My eyes widen slightly, because I hadn’t actually expected him to approach me, not with him having a girlfriend. Or is he one of those guys? That’s kind of

disappointing. Now I’m confused. If he’s the type to cheat on his girlfriend, all the better for me, right? I should have nothing to feel guilty over since he’s not the faithful type anyway. Why in the world would I be disappointed when I’d have a chance to experience being in his arms? Why would his cheating bother me? I realize it’s because I still believe there are good guys out there that respect their girlfriends. Would anyone ever respect me? Lord knows that I haven’t really given anyone a reason to. My disturbing thoughts disappear the second Blake pauses in front of me, his

dark eyes holding mine captive. Without a word, he draws me into his arms to dance, and I’m caught completely off guard. He wants to dance with me? In front of everyone here? Most cheaters sneak around; they don’t cheat in plain sight of those that could tell their girlfriends they’d been fooling around with someone else. Blake doesn’t appear to care, so I decide not to worry over it. I allow his hands to rest on my hips, and I move closer to him, inhaling the scent of his cologne. There’s just something about him that makes me think of sunny days and optimism. Is that weird? Maybe it’s because he has light hair and a great tan

that makes me think of summer and the beach—not that I’ve been to a beach in my lifetime, but I’m betting it’s beautiful and exhilarating to stand at the edge of the ocean. Between his golden boy looks and that killer smile, I feel drawn to his charm and charisma. I don’t know how else to describe what I feel when I’m around him. I know part of it is lust, but there’s just something about him that pulls me in. I’m so used to being in the dark that I’m drawn to how easy-going and carefree he seems to be. Usually, when I’m attracted to a guy, it’s just physical, but Blake is different. Our lower bodies brush, and my heart skips a beat as we instinctively move

closer together. As our bodies move suggestively in a seductive grind, I gaze up at him, trying to figure out where this is going to lead tonight. His eyes are intense, and his attraction to me is betrayed within their depths. His hands bring my hips to a halt, pressing me into him, and I can feel his hardness. I close my eyes and enjoy the sensation of his firm chest pressed against my breasts. I know that if I were to slip off his shirt, I’d find a welldefined chest and abs. Blake draws in a deep breath against me; then his hands slide up to my waist. He gently eases me away from him. The physical distance he’s just put

between us has me abruptly coming back to reality. We’d been doing a grind, and I’m astounded that his girlfriend hasn’t shown up to yank Blake away from me. My eyes shift, and as I peer around the crowd, I note plenty of eyes watching us with avid interest. In fact, Blake’s friends are standing on the other side of the room, watching us. They’re all guys that I’ve seen at school, and most of them are smirking, but one is frowning with disapproval. Camilla is nowhere in sight. Blake leans closer to me. “Want to get out of here?” All my attention shifts back to him, and my heart flutters in my chest at the

thought of having sex with him. I want him so badly, and I nod. He doesn’t touch me as he escorts me out of the party, but I am aware of the looks we receive. Well, if Camilla wasn’t aware that her boyfriend’s a cheater, she will be. I can’t bring myself to care at this point. I’ll worry about the consequences of my actions on Monday. We both are silent as we walk a block to his car, and then he politely opens the passenger door for me, and I climb in. A moment later, we’re pulling away from the curb, and Blake is turning on the stereo. I don’t mind the music, and I relax into the seat, fully aware of him next to

me. The way that I’m reacting to Blake is new to me, and the intensity should scare me, but I push aside any concerns. Tonight, I just want to have fun and forget all my problems. When we pull into the parking lot at a late-night diner and find a parking space, I straighten in my seat with bewilderment. What are we doing? I turn to ask Blake, but he’s already climbing out of the car and firmly shutting the door. I have no clue what’s going on, so I quickly scramble out of the car before he can open my door for me. I want to share my confusion with him, but I don’t want to look like a fool for assuming…

Dang. This is the first time a guy has taken me out to eat first. Blake flashes me a lopsided smile, completely oblivious to my thoughts. He leads me into the diner, and we snag a booth in the very back. I’m uncomfortable, so I try to hide it by looking around. The diner is small but has a nice, welcoming feel to it. The walls are a warm burgundy, and all the tables in the front area are wooden with plush seats. Country-themed chandeliers hang above the tables, and the row of booths are situated along a wall that has windows from one end to the other. The window we sit next to overlooks the

parking lot, and since the diner isn’t busy, we have the back area to ourselves. I find myself relaxing as my earlier discomfort eases. Blake picks up a menu. “I’m starving. All I could think about was eating a couple of burgers and fries.” His eyes meet mine, and amusement lurks in their depths. “Besides dancing with you, of course. You had me quite distracted.” Evidently not distracted enough if he’s choosing food over sex, I think dryly. Blake motions to the menu resting on the table in front of me. “Pick something out, I’m not going to eat in front of you.” I’m not hungry since I’m accustomed

to small meals during the day, but I’m guessing that he’ll insist I order something. After I’ve scanned the menu, a waitress arrives, and Blake orders two burgers, extra fries, and a large soda. I politely order a small basket of fries. After the waitress walks away with our order, Blake frowns at me. “That’s all you want?” he asks. “I ate earlier.” He picks up his water and takes a drink. After he sets the glass back down, he relaxes in his seat and turns all his attention on me. “You’re not going to ask how the game went?” “Do you want me to?” I ask. I’m still trying to figure out what kind of guy he

is, and I’m really hoping he isn’t your average jock that likes to brag about how good he is at sports. I watch him closely, but for some reason, my question pleases him. “Nope,” he says easily. “I like that you don’t care. So, you meet anyone here yet?” he asks, switching the topic. “Not really. I’m not a good socializer,” I confess. He has no idea that just sitting across from him in a restaurant is a first for me. I still can’t figure out if I like that he’d brought me here to eat and talk first, or if I’m disappointed because I wasn’t tempting enough to sleep with immediately. Blake’s eyes dance with bemusement.

“So I noticed. Where you from?” “Illinois.” “And you live with your aunt?” “Yes.” I don’t want him to ask any further questions about her, so I quickly ask, “Have you lived here all your life?” Needing something to do, I pick up my glass of water and take a sip. My throat is a little dry from the party, and the coolness of the water feels good on it. “Yeah.” He looks at me, his earlier amusement fading. “I actually envy you.” His comment takes me by surprise. “You do?” “You have no past here, no expectations. You’re just a mystery, and it’s up to you to share what you want

anyone to know. It’d be nice to have a clean slate; you know what I mean?” I’m too busy staring at him to say anything. No one’s ever been envious of me before. Blake studies me. “You’re strangely easy to talk to. Maybe it’s because you don’t say much.” I still don’t know what to say. Making casual conversation has never come easy for me, and I’m used to fading into the background unless I’m looking for a good time. I still can’t believe that I am even sitting here with the school’s star quarterback, and I want to pinch myself to check if this is actually real. Blake clears his throat, looking

awkward now as he picks up a small packet of sugar and begins to turn it around and around between his fingers. I think my silence has made him selfconscious, and I’m not sure how to ease it. Our meal arrives much faster than I’d thought that it would, and I watch as our waitress sets a huge plate filled with two large burgers and a pile of fries in front of Blake. An extra basket of fries is placed beside his plate, and then the other basket is set in front of me. The small basket I’d requested is much bigger than I’d anticipated. After the waitress sets down our glasses of soda, she cheerfully tells us to enjoy our meal,

and then we’re alone once again. I reach for the salt and sprinkle some onto my fries. “That was quick,” I murmur. “That’s why I love this place, they give a whole new meaning to ‘fast food’ when it’s the good stuff.” He takes a big bite of his burger, and I swear his eyes nearly roll. I bite back a smile, because he wasn’t kidding when he’d said that he was hungry. While he demolishes his burgers, I pick at my fries. When Blake is finished, he pushes aside his empty plate and takes a drink of his soda. Then he sets down his glass and reaches out, plucking a fry out of my basket. “Need

some help?” he teases when he notices that I’m not really eating them. I laugh and push the basket to him. “They’re all yours.” He digs into them with enthusiasm and flashes me a sheepish look. “I’m always starving after a game. I should have grabbed something to eat earlier, but I wanted to get to the party.” A little part of me wonders if he’d put off eating so that he could see me, but I try to tame those thoughts. I’m still surprised that Camilla hasn’t tracked him down yet. We hear the distinct sound of a phone vibrating, and Blake wipes his hands on a napkin before pulling out his cell

phone. He glances at the screen, his expression unreadable as he shuts the phone off and slips it back in his jeans pocket. Now I really can’t resist. “Fighting with your girlfriend?” I inquire lightly. His brow creases briefly, and then his expression smooths out. “Ah, you probably haven’t heard yet. I broke up with Camilla after school today.” “Oh.” I’m extremely pleased to hear this, but I try to keep my satisfaction to myself. Blake runs a hand over his face, messing up the blond hair that hovers across his forehead. “I’ve been trying to end things with her for the past several

months, but today happened to be my breaking point. I just can’t deal with her and all that shit anymore. I need room to breathe, you know?” I nod but have no clue what he’s referring to when he’d said today was his breaking point. I hadn’t heard anything about the two of them having problems. I’d seen them arguing a few times, but I hadn’t guessed that they were on the verge of a breakup. Blake’s eyes hold mine as he elaborates. “I felt like I was suffocating.” Now that feeling I am very familiar with. “I know the feeling,” I murmur. “You do?”

I’ve said too much, but I have to answer him, or I’ll look like I was saying it out of sympathy. I drop my eyes and steal a fry, though I’m not hungry. “It’s suffocating being caught up in a situation that you can’t get out of,” I say, thinking of Catherine. “Exactly,” Blake says, and I can hear a hint of relief in his tone that I understand what he’d been trying to share with me. We both are quiet now, and I don’t think he’d expected the conversation to go as deep as it had. I know I hadn’t. “Ready?” Blake asks when he sees that I’m no longer interested in the few fries that are left in the basket.

“Yes, thank you.” Blake pays for our meal, and then we walk out to the parking lot and get into his car. I wonder if he’s going to take me somewhere so we can enjoy each other. I soon learn that he’s taking me home as he drives down the familiar streets towards Decauter. Does he think that I’m going to invite him in? I’m thinking that wouldn’t be a good idea, especially if Catherine came home unexpectedly. We could just park somewhere in his car… We reach Decauter Street, and he turns onto it, cruising towards the end where Catherine’s house is located. “Park at the very end, at the corner. Please,” I add lightly.

“The corner? Why?” “The corner’s better.” I’m no longer using the front door if I can help it, and my window is unlocked. Blake parks the Camaro at the corner as I’d requested, and he turns off the engine. Should I invite him in anyway? I’m certain Catherine is working. As long as he’s gone by the time she comes home, she’ll never know. I peer at him in the shadows, throwing caution to the wind. “Do you want to come in?” “As much as I want to, I think I’m going to pass.” I hadn’t expected him to turn me down, and I’m stunned until

embarrassment takes over. “Okay, thanks for the ride,” I say as casually as I can. Then, I calmly open the passenger door and climb out. When I see that Blake is getting out as well, I look at him with surprise. “What are you doing?” He closes the Camaro door, his eyes meeting mine. “Walking you to your door,” he says simply. This is unexpected, and we’re both quiet as we walk down the sidewalk towards the darkened house. Then it sinks in that he’s likely going to ask why I’m not using the front door. I pause on the sidewalk and peer up at him. “You really don’t have to walk me to the door. This is fine.”

“It’s late and dark out. I’m going to make sure you get inside safely.” Without much choice in the matter, I begin leading him across the lawn towards the back of the house. My heart warms at his insistence. His manners are impeccable, and I don’t think anyone has ever treated me so respectfully. “Why are we sneaking around? This is your home, isn’t it?” Blake asks from beside me as we walk. “I left my window unlocked, so that’s my door,” I explain. We approach the corner of the house, and I walk over to the window that faces the backyard. “You use your window?” Blake asks, and in the darkness, I can hear the frown

in his voice. “My aunt and I don’t really get along.” “You sure it’s unlocked? I’d hate to leave you and then learn that you were locked out for hours.” “It’s unlocked.” I reach out and pull the window up an inch. “So it is.” I turn and look up at him. “Goodnight. Thanks for the fries.” Blake steps closer to me, and his strong body backs me up against the house. “Am I wrong to want to kiss you senseless?” he asks as his voice drops to an intimate level. About damned time! I’ve been

wanting this all night. “What are you waiting for?” I challenge. His hands settle on my waist, and his head lowers as his lips close over mine. I reach up, clutching his shoulders as I part my lips, giving him full access to my mouth. His tongue immediately sweeps inside, and he begins to tease me as it dances inside my mouth. I like the sweet intensity of his kiss, and I lean back against the house as I kiss him back. Blake’s hands slide down to my ass, and he grips me tightly before picking me up so I can wrap my legs around his waist. I’m wearing shorts, and his warm hands shift to grip my bare thighs, his

tongue stroking mine seductively. Kissing Blake is better than anything I’ve ever experienced. I skim my hands down his shoulders and along his arms until I can grip him around his waist, tugging his hips further into the apex of my thighs. We both groan in unison as his hard erection beneath his jeans rubs against my center. His hips begin to lazily grind against me, and I dig my nails into his sides, playfully biting his lip as I grind back, urging him for more. Blake’s lips leave mine to trail down my jaw, his hand reaching up to cup my right breast through my shirt and bra. I arch my back and moan into his ear as his thumb finds the pert tip.

“Blake, come inside with me,” I say breathlessly. I want him so badly, and I know he wants me too. He groans at my offer, and much to my amazement, he pulls back and draws his hand away from my breast. His hands reach for my thighs, and he carefully eases me away from him so that I can stand on my own two feet. I’m ready to have sex right here against the house if that’s what he wants, and I reach for the button on his jeans. Blake sighs with regret as he puts his hand on mine, stopping me. “I can’t, Fallon.” I peer up at him with confusion, wishing I could see his expression in the

darkness. “Why?” “Tonight’s just a bad night.” “I see.” I pull away from him, mortified that he’s turning me down a second time. I thought that he’d changed his mind. Is he playing some kind of game with me? “Hey,” he murmurs, reaching out to rest his hand on the side of my waist. “Don’t think that I don’t want you, because I do. The second I saw you the night I hit you with my car, I knew you were someone special. Then on Tuesday, the rain made your shirt cling to your breasts, and I could see the outline of your nipples,” he says huskily. “I dreamed of you that night and what you

look like beneath your clothes. I want more time with you than just a quickie against the house or in the backseat of my car.” He can’t leave me like this, not when he has me wanting him this badly. “My aunt won’t be home until later,” I offer, hoping to tempt him into staying. He leans down and brushes his warm lips against mine in a parting kiss. “Not tonight. I have damage control to deal with, and I’ll just be distracted.” He reluctantly pulls away from me. “Damage control?” I echo. “Story of my life,” he says sardonically. “Good night, Fallon.” I stare after him as he walks away,

disappearing around the corner of the house.

Five After a long and boring weekend, I’m more than happy to walk to school Monday morning. Blake flickers in the back of my mind, and my lips curve upward into a little smile. Blake broke up with Camilla. I know his decision had nothing to do with me, but I’m still pleased over the news. Slowly, my smile fades. I’m not delusional. It won’t be long before I’m just a passing memory for Blake. Once he gets me into bed, his interest in me will be over, and he’ll move on. Still, knowing the truth won’t stop me from giving in and being with him. I want to

know what it’s like to have his full attention on me, to be as intimately close as I can possibly be. “Fallon!” The sound of my name yanks me back to the present, and I look up to see Blake’s car pulling over to the curb. The passenger window slides down. “Get in!” he calls. This time around, I am more than willing. I walk over to his car and open the door, getting in. When my door is safely closed, he glances at the rearview mirror and pulls back out into the street. “Hey,” he greets, his eyes staying on the road as we come upon a stop sign at the end of the street.

“Hi.” He glances at me briefly, flashing me his boyishly handsome smile. “What are you doing Saturday?” I try to recall if I have to work. “I don’t know yet.” “It’s a shit week for me,” he says as he presses down on the accelerator and we move forward again. “I have practice every day after school and family obligations to deal with in the evenings. There’s another game Friday, but it’s not here in town. I’m going to need to unwind over the weekend, and since my parents will be gone, I’m having a party at my place Saturday night. You interested?”

What he really means is do I want to finish what we’d started when we’d made out against the side of the house Friday night. “Sure,” I agree without hesitation. “I’ll give you my address once we get to school.” Then he frowns. “Wait, I forgot that you don’t have a car.” “I’ll just grab a cab,” I quickly interject. He slows down at the four-way stop that’s a block from the school and waits his turn, glancing at me. “I don’t mind picking you up. I’ll drop by around nine.” I look at him curiously. “If you have practice after school, why did you give

me a ride last Tuesday?” Blake cruises through the four-way stop, his attention fixed on the road again. “Practice doesn’t officially start until three-thirty. I skip warm-up sometimes to do my own thing. Camilla was really annoying the shit out of me, and I couldn’t seem to shake her, so I went for a drive.” “She sounds very clingy,” I can’t resist stating, and then I wince. “Sorry, it’s not my place to judge.” We’ve reached the school, and Blake pulls into the parking lot, searching for an empty space. “She is clingy. She was always more interested in our relationship than I was.” He pulls into an

available spot and cuts the engine, his expression turning irritated. “I shouldn’t have to check in with my girlfriend every minute of the day. If I wasn’t with her, she always wanted to know where I was and who I was with.” I reach down for my backpack at my feet. “I bet it’s a relief to have your freedom again.” “It comes with a price,” he says dryly. I study his tense features, and I want to ask what he means by that, but it’s not really any of my business. “I’m sorry. Thanks for the ride, Blake.” I turn and reach for the door handle. “Fallon, wait.”

My eyes shift back to him with surprise. His eyes hold mine. “I have a lot going on this week, but I didn’t want you thinking I was avoiding you or being a dick. I won’t forget to pick you up Saturday night.” “Okay. Wait for me at the corner?” “I’ll be there.” “See you then.” I climb out of the car and hurry off towards the school, fully aware of the stares that I’m receiving. I have a feeling that nothing Blake does goes unnoticed—not that I’m surprised or anything. He’s gorgeous, friendly, and a genuinely nice guy. I don’t blame the other students for

always watching him with interest. The rest of the day is a blur as my mind stays fixated on Blake’s invitation for Saturday night. It’s only when the final bell rings and I exit the school that I am yanked out of my pleasant mood. I stand under the overhang, staring out into the rain. I work today, and I am going to resemble a drowned rat by the time I get there. It’s not a good impression to make with being new and all, but it’s not like I have a choice. My feet refuse to move as I have a flashback to another wet and dreary day when I was younger. I was eleven at the time, and I’d missed the bus after school. My mom had been called to come get

me, and I’d stood in the rain for hours, waiting for her. In the end, a teacher had taken pity on me and had driven me home. “Want a ride, Candy Girl?” a familiar voice drawls from behind me. I turn to find the hottie who’d given me a ride home last week on his motorcycle. I still don’t know his name, but this time I don’t hesitate. “That would be great. Thank you.” His gray eyes shift to the falling rain a few feet away from where we’re standing. “Ready for a run?” “We’re going to get wet either way,” I tell him, thinking of his motorcycle. “Nah, I brought the car today when I

saw the forecast.” “I didn’t know it was going to rain.” I’m thinking I’d better add an umbrella to the list of necessities that I’ll need for next week. “That might be a bit of a problem for you seeing as you walk to and from that job of yours,” he comments. I glance at him and shrug. “I didn’t really think that far ahead.” He starts towards the steps that lead down to the sidewalk, glancing back at me. “Ready?” We hurry down the steps and run through the rain, dodging other students darting for their own vehicles. I follow on his heels to an old car that’s seen

better days. As he climbs in the driver’s side, I fling myself into the passenger seat, and the door squeaks loudly as I close it. After I push my hair away from my face and wipe rain off my forehead, I look around curiously. His car smells faintly of cigarettes and peppermint. He has a small ashtray on the center console between our seats, and there’s a few cigarette butts in it. I crane my neck and peer into the back, noting a few abandoned cans of soda on the floor. A black backpack has been flung carelessly across the backseat. “Nosy much?” I hear him ask as the car chugs to life.

I face forward again and glance at him, completely unapologetic. His eyes lock on mine for a moment, and then he turns his attention on backing out of the parking space. I peer out my window and spy Blake’s car a few spaces down from the one we’re currently backing out of. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat, and he seems to be watching me. I tentatively wave, but he doesn’t return it. Then we’re driving off as we head for the parking lot exit. An odd feeling settles in my chest. Blake’s not bothered that I’m getting a ride from someone else, is he? That would be ridiculous. No one’s ever

cared or been jealous of my time before. He likely wasn’t even looking at me, it just happened to appear that way. “What are you going to do this winter?” I glance at the hottie. I really need to find out what his name is. “Walk to work while wishing I had a car. I’m saving for one,” I reply. He lifts his hand from the steering wheel and runs it through his damp hair. “How much more do you have to save?” “A little more,” I lie. He doesn’t say anything as he switches the windshield wipers to a faster speed. “Do you have a name?”

“Nick.” “Thanks for the ride, Nick,’ I say, testing out his name. He glances at me briefly. “You done at nine again?” “Yep.” “If I can get out on time, I’ll give you a ride home,” he says somewhat gruffly, his eyes staring straight ahead as he turns on the car’s left blinker. I study him. He seems nice enough but definitely not much of a talker. It’s really hard to get a read on him, and I’m worried he might start thinking that I have expectations of future rides. I can take care of myself. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to go out

of your way for me,” I say lightly. His expression doesn’t change. “This rain is going to keep on until late tonight.” “A little rain isn’t going to hurt me.” Now he looks at me, amusement lurking in his gaze. “You trying to talk your way out of a ride?” I smile wryly. “No, but if you can’t, I’ll be fine.” He pulls the car into a parking space behind the tattoo shop. “You can cut through the shop to the store,” he offers. “Thanks.” We hurry inside, and a few tattooists look surprised to see me as I pass by them in the hall. Nick escorts me through

the shop and to the front door. I thank him again for the ride before hurrying next door to the candy shop. I’m distracted as I work my shift, and it’s hard to concentrate. I hadn’t expected Nick to track me down or to offer me a ride today. I’ve seen him in the halls at school a few times, and most of the time, he’d barely even smiled at me. Between Blake and Nick, I’ve had more attention lately than what I am accustomed to. I like it. A lot. My mind is upbeat as I work, and when nine rolls around, I find Nick waiting for me under the candy shop’s

overhang. He once again walks me through the tattoo shop, nodding at a few of his co-workers before we go out the back exit. It’s still raining, and we hurriedly climb into his car. Nick is quiet as he drives, and I don’t have much to say. The silence isn’t awkward or anything, and I find myself relaxing in the seat as I stare out my window. The only sound inside the car comes from the windshield wipers, and it’s repetitive and oddly soothing. I break the silence only when he pulls onto Catherine’s street. “You can just park at the corner.” He drives to the end of the street and pulls over to the curb. “This have

anything to do with your aunt?” he asks. “We don’t get along.” His head turns towards me, and I can feel him studying me in the dark. I think he wants to say something more, but he remains silent. “Thanks for the ride.” I hurriedly climb out, firmly shutting the passenger door before running through the rain to the corner of the house. I jog to the window and slide it up, quickly pulling myself up and into the room. Once the window is shut and locked, I quickly strip down and wipe up the water on the wood floor beneath the window. After I’m changed for the night, and my nightly routine is finished,

I flop down onto the bed.

~*~ On Thursday, I’m walking home after my shift at the store when I hear the familiar sound of Nick’s motorcycle. I turn and watch as he pulls his motorcycle up alongside me. I haven’t really seen much of him since he’d dropped me off Monday night. He doesn’t cut the engine and simply waits. I hurry over and climb on, feeling excited that I get another ride. My arms wrap around his waist, and I hold on tightly as he speeds away down the street. I press my cheek against his back and smile to myself as the wind wreaks havoc with my hair. It’s exhilarating

being on the back of his bike, and I want to enjoy every second of it. When he leans into the turns, I lean with him, our bodies in sync as we roar down the streets, passing cars with sharp precision. Motorcycles are dangerous, especially without helmets, but I feel safe with Nick. I know he’s dangerous to some extent, or he wouldn’t be carrying around a knife, but I don’t sense any real danger directed my way. We pull onto Decauter Street, and as we approach Catherine’s, Nick slows the motorcycle. When I see that the lights are on inside the house, I can’t help but tense. I’m going to have to be super quiet sneaking in. The less Catherine and I see

each other, the better. I’m just about to reluctantly untangle myself from Nick when the motorcycle shoots forward, and we’re off again. I’m surprised, but definitely not disappointed. I hold him tightly, giving him a grateful squeeze around the waist for giving me a reprieve before I have to go back to my miserable reality. Nick drives aimlessly, and I relax into him, a warm feeling spreading throughout my body from his kindness. He must have felt me stiffen when we’d approached Catherine’s. I’m thankful that he’d read the situation accurately and had decided to give me more time to relax before the evening ends.

Nick pulls back up to the corner sometime later and cuts the engine. The silence is thunderous in my ears, and I carefully ease away from him as I glance at Catherine’s house. The lights are now off, and the earlier tension I’d felt begins to lessen. I look at Nick, and I can tell that he’s studying me in the darkness. I’m beginning to feel a little selfconscious over my slip-up earlier. “Thank you,” I say awkwardly. “You didn’t use the front door on Monday,” he comments. I shrug. “Less chance of running into my aunt.” “How bad is it between you two?” “It’s not a big deal. Really.”

He’s silent a moment. “See you later.” I back away as he starts the motorcycle. Then I turn and dart off into the shadows as I head for the house.

Six It’s Saturday evening, and since Catherine is working, I’m nervously watching for Blake from the living room window. Will he show up like he’d promised? For the third time in five minutes, I reapply my lip gloss so that I have something to do as I wait. I’m not really looking forward to the actual party since Blake appears to be wealthy, so the party will likely be full of local rich kids. I’m not accustomed to socializing with their kind, but I’m willing to go so that I can spend some time with Blake. I run a sweaty palm over my black,

denim skirt that I’d paired with a tank. Am I going to be underdressed? I shrug off my momentary concern. Who cares? I’m not going there to fit in anyway. I slip my lip gloss back in my pocket and spy what looks like Blake’s red Camaro driving down the street. When it passes by the house, and I see that it is indeed him, I quickly exit the house as he parks at the corner. He’s just climbing out when I approach him, and he grins when he sees me. “Now aren’t you a sight to look at.” I can’t resist snickering as we walk to the passenger side of the car. “It’s dark, you can’t see much of anything.” He opens the car door for me. “I can

see enough to know that you’re wearing a skirt. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” I slide into the passenger seat, and he shuts the door before walking around the car to settle behind the steering wheel. The dome light is on, and my eyes roam over him, taking in the shirt that hugs his muscular chest, and the expensive jeans that look like they were made for him. I draw in a deep breath and give myself a little lecture as Blake pulls away from the curb, and the light flickers out. It’s just one night of sex, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it until the night is over. Then on Monday, I’m going to go to school without any expectations.

Blake’s interest in me will have faded, and it’ll be time for me to move on and forget about him, too. Blake reaches out to turn on the radio, and music fills the car as he drives. We pass through downtown, and we drive out of the city until the houses become bigger and more expensive. Soon, each home has their own gated driveway. I’d known that Blake is likely wealthy, but when he pulls through an already opened gate, I’m a little overwhelmed as I take in the well-lit estate. Blake’s home is huge, and nerves start building within my stomach as I stare at the elegant, arching mansion with four white pillars out front. Even

their garage looks like a castle or something. Blake slowly drives past numerous cars that are parallel parked along both sides of the long driveway, and I blink as I try to calm myself. I’m way outside my comfort zone, so the sex better be worth all this. I clear my throat. “You left your own party to come get me?” Blake drives past the house and towards the garage as he turns down the music. “My friends will have kept an eye on things,” he says easily. He pulls the Camaro into the garage, and I try not to gape at the expensive vehicle he parks next to. The sleek,

black car probably costs as much as a small, single family home. It always amazes me how the rich live when I’d struggled most of my life just to eat enough to survive. I drag my eyes away from the vehicle. On Monday, when I’m wishing Blake was still interested in me, I’m going to remember that car and this house. This is his world, not mine. I’m only here for a few hours. Then I go back to my life, and he goes back to his. Blake peers at me. “You’re not nervous, are you?” I smile brightly. “Not at all.” His eyes tell me that he doesn’t believe me, but he just smiles. “You’re my guest of honor. I promise you’ll be

well taken care of.” Out comes the horny, little devil on my shoulder, and I smile seductively. “I sure hope so.” His dark eyes drop to my skirt that has ridden up to flash more of my thighs than what’s appropriate. I can see the desire on his face, and his eyes lift back to mine. “I will, Fallon,” he says with blatant sexual intent. “Let’s go.” He turns and opens his car door. Blake escorts me into the large house. We enter a kitchen where an island counter is covered with liquor bottles, and two guys appear to be in charge of it all. They fist bump Blake, and instead of introducing me, Blake snags a couple of

glasses that are already filled to the brim. He hands one off to me as he leads me out of the kitchen. I need some liquid courage to get through this party, so I take a sip. The drink is quite strong, and I tentatively take another. Blake glances at me, his brow furrowing. “Go easy on that,” he warns. His warning has me looking at him with surprise. Why does he care? He leans in closer and says in my ear, “I have plans for you, and if you’re drunk, I’m going to have to be a gentlemen and take you home instead.” I stop walking. “You’d really do that?”

“Do what?” “Not have sex with me if I’m drunk?” His eyes hold mine. “If you’re drunk, you’re not alert and fully aware of what’s going on, so no, I wouldn’t.” Does this guy have a single flaw? He’s like ridiculously perfect. He’s also the first guy I’ve ever met that is honorable, too. No one’s cared before if I’m drunk or sober. We’re standing near a table, and I set my glass down, no longer thirsty. Blake chuckles. “I never said you couldn’t drink it, Fallon.” “Maybe I have plans for you, and I want nothing to spoil them,” I say teasingly.

His eyes drop to my mouth, and I know he’s wishing he could kiss me. I deliberately bite my lower lip. Blake groans, but before he can say anything, a guy walks up to us, bumping into Blake as he clumsily claps him on the shoulder. “About time you showed up. Who’s this?” The guy peers at me, his eyes roaming over me from head to toe. “This the piece of ass you left Camilla for?” Blake’s expression tightens, and he shoots his friend a look. “Don’t be a dick, Evan.” He turns and looks at me apologetically. “Sorry.” “No problem.” I’m used to assholes like Evan.

Evan turns his blue eyes back on me. “You’re the new girl, aren’t you?” “I’m Fallon.” He nods. “Evan.” He looks like he wants to say more, but he changes him mind and turns on Blake. “Adam was looking for you earlier.” “I’ll find him later,” Blake says. Evan saunters away, and Blake turns to me, his expression now a little hesitant. I can tell that he’s beginning to regret bringing me here. “My friends are assholes. Just ignore them.” “Like I said, not a problem,” I assure. I don’t want anything or anyone to ruin this evening for us. Blake leads me down a short hall to a

large room that has huge windows overlooking the pool in the back. The room is crowded, and through the mingling bodies, I can see there are more people outside, enjoying the warm evening and the cool water. The party is pretty laid-back, and even though there’s music playing, no one is dancing. I’m also underdressed, just as I’d predicted. I spy Camilla across the room with her friends, and they are glaring at me while Blake is oblivious to them. He introduces me to some of his friends, but we never stay longer than a few minutes to talk. No one says anything mean to me, but I can tell that they are wondering why Blake brought me here. I knew it

would be like this, and I try to hide that I am miserable. Blake pulls me aside a short time later. “Want to go somewhere quiet?” When I nod in agreement, his hand reaches for mine. I let him lead me through the crowd to a set of stairs, and we make our way up to the second floor. There appears to be nobody on this level, and we walk down a hall until Blake pauses in front of the last door on the right. He opens it and holds it for me, politely urging me to go in first. I step into the room as Blake firmly closes the door behind us. The music from downstairs can be heard, but it’s muffled. I slowly walk around his

bedroom with interest. His room is large with grayish-blue walls, and two large windows have blue curtains drawn across them. The main focal point in his room is the bed, which is simple and masculine, with dark blue, soft-looking sheets. There’s sports-themed décor around the room, and next to a desk is a glass-encased, trophy case. I walk over and scan the numerous trophies and photos of him in sports gear—mostly football. “You’re really into sports,” I say, impressed. Blake walks over to stand beside me. “That case is a fucking lie,” he says with a hint of bitterness.

I look at him sharply and search his expression. “I don’t understand.” His jaw tightens as he gazes at the trophies and photos. “That’s not me. I’m not him.” I wait until his eyes slide back to mine, and I hold them with my own. “If that’s not you, who are you then?” He looks at me unflinchingly. “I haven’t got a clue.” His raw honesty touches me, and I can understand what he’s feeling, because I also have no idea who I really am. When I look in the mirror, I see her, not me. “Do you think it gets any easier as we grow older?” I ask. “I think it gets worse when you can’t

get out of the lie you’re living. The longer you’re in it, the harder it is to break away,” he says softly. It’s odd that I can understand him even though he’s not offering up details. I’ve never felt a connection like this with anyone. It’s like he’s letting me see him when I’m used to everyone shutting me out. Blake must glimpse something in my gaze, because his expression shifts as he sets the glass he’d been carrying around with him on his desk. He steps towards me and leans down to kiss me. This is what I’ve been anticipating all night. All my thoughts cease to exist as sexual hunger begins to take over. His

hands are on my hips, his lips fastened on mine as he kisses me deeply with a patient intensity. Blake is different than the guys I’m used to. He’s not grabby or sloppy. He’s in control and willing to take things slow to build the sexual tension. I can tell that the sex is going to be off the charts, and I want to do everything I can to make this a night that he won’t forget. As I kiss him back, I reach for his shirt and start pulling it up and around his ribs, wanting it off. Blake breaks the kiss, and his eyes lock on mine as he tugs off his shirt and tosses it aside. My eyes wander over his broad and powerful chest. All that football and

working out has given him an immaculately sculpted chest, and my heart begins to pound out of control. He’s sexier than I ever imagined. I can feel the other side of me beginning to take over. There’s a part of me that likes to be in control, because if a guy isn’t lost to the pleasure I’m giving him, then I’m not the best he’s ever had, and I like to leave a lasting impression. I learned a long time ago that some guys really love an aggressive woman. No one wants a partner that’s going to just lie there and take it without giving in return. I decide to test Blake. With a look of determination, I press

my hand flat against his chest and push firmly, urging him to walk backwards towards his bed. He looks at me with surprise, and then he grins and does what I want. When the backs of his legs hit the bed, I give him a good shove, and he falls back onto the mattress. The erection he’s sporting beneath his jeans tells me that my boldness is turning him on, so I crawl onto him, settling myself on his hips as I lean down and capture his lips with my own. I feel his hands on my thighs, and his tongue meets mine as I kiss him seductively. My hips begin to slowly rock against his hardness as my hands roam over the smooth muscular ridges of

his chest and stomach. Blake groans into my mouth and begins moving his hips beneath me. He’s easy to please, and I like that his hands are still staying on my thighs. He’s not demanding more; he’s simply waiting to see what I’m going to do next. I’m definitely wanting to explore, so I end our kiss and trail my lips along his jaw, and then down his throat. His skin is warm, and he smells of the cologne I like so much. I flick my tongue against his skin, tasting his saltiness. “Fallon…” Blake breathes. I taste his skin as I make my way down the center of his chest and lower. His stomach muscles tighten, and I

playfully dip my tongue into his belly button. His husky laugh mixed with a groan has me smiling before I follow the thin line of hair that leads beneath the waistband of his jeans. I promptly move back so that I can unfasten the button. Then, I slowly lower the zipper and glance at Blake. He’s watching me with heavy-lidded eyes, his hands resting behind his head. He looks sexy as hell lying there, waiting for me to explore his body. I give him a naughty smile that has his eyes darkening before I turn my attention back to my exploration. His hardness is straining against his tight briefs, and I begin to tug his jeans down. Blake lifts

his hips to help, and I quickly divest him of his jeans and briefs. His erection stands tall and proud, and I wet my lips with anticipation. I’m so turned on right now that I could probably slide right onto him without needing any foreplay. “Condom. Left pocket in my jeans,” Blake says in a deep, mesmerizing voice. I turn away and grab his jeans to retrieve the condom. Then I toss the condom on the bed beside his hip and reach for him, wrapping my hand around his hardness. Blake groans, and I lean down to slide my lips over the blunt tip. I take him into my mouth, tightening my hand at his base as I begin to move my

mouth up and down over him. “Shit. You’ve got to stop, or this will be over much sooner than either of us want.” His throaty voice has me sucking harder, and his hips instinctively begin thrusting upwards. I keep my mouth wrapped around him as my eyes lift so that I can see his expression. He’s watching me, his lips parted, and I can tell that he’s already close to the edge. This is what I like best, when they look at me like Blake is right now, and I know that I am in full control of his body and his orgasm. I gently release him, and he blows out a relieved breath. I can’t help but

snicker as I reach down and strip off my shirt. Blake shoots me a look, but it’s one of lazy bemusement. “I was wondering how far you’d go.” My eyebrow arches as I reach behind me to unclasp my black, lace bra. “I plan on having some fun of my own.” I slip my bra off and toss it over my shoulder. Blake’s dark gaze drops to my chest, and he takes in my full breasts with pert, pink tips. “Way better than my imagination,” he murmurs with appreciation. I ease off him and stand next to the bed as I shimmy out of my skirt and panties. I’m not embarrassed over my

body. I know that guys like it, and I outgrew any shyness a long time ago. I climb back up his body, ready to kiss him when his voice halts me. “Wait. I want to look at you more. That was too fucking fast for my liking.” I pull back and gaze down at him. He’s looking at me expectantly, and I realize this is way more fun than I’d anticipated. I’d assumed it would be some ridiculously good sex, but I hadn’t expected to talk much or laugh. I settle back on his lower stomach, and since my legs are parted, he can see all of me. His eyes fasten on the apex of my thighs, and he licks his lips. “I think it’s

my turn to do a little exploring.” I’m sure he can feel and see how wet I am, and I’m incredibly turned on simply by concentrating on him instead of myself. I grab the condom and rip it open. Then I ease back to roll the condom on his length. I want this night to be all about him. “You had your chance,” I say. Blake sputters and laughs. “No, I didn’t.” I give him a cheeky smile as I settle on his hips, slowly sinking down onto his hardness. “You had your chance before I took over.” Then I groan, and so does Blake as he pushes himself deep within me to the hilt.

Blake gazes up at me, his hands lifting to cup my breasts. “You feel incredible,” he breathes. I arch my back, enjoying his fingers brushing against my nipples as I begin to move my hips. “Ah, damn, Fallon,” he groans as his hips thrust against mine. I lean over him, and I begin to ride him in a rhythm that has his eyes glazing over. His thumbs continue rubbing the sensitive tips of my breasts, and I speed up. Blake’s lips part, and then he clenches his jaw. “Fallon…” he grits out, warning me that he’s too close and about to go over the edge. I watch him as my hips continue to

ruthlessly meet his, and the expression of pure pleasure etched across Blake’s features triggers my release. I tilt my head back, lips parting as I moan and savor the sensations exploding throughout my body. Blake’s hands shift to my hips as he clutches them tightly, thrusting deeply into me until he groans out his own release. That was…amazingly intense. I collapse limply onto his sweaty chest, and his arms immediately wrap around me as his heart thunders beneath my cheek. We’re both silent as we try to catch our breaths. Feeling drowsy, I carefully ease my lower body away from his so that he can slide out. Then Blake

grips my hips and pulls me back along his body. “Stay,” he mumbles. I close my eyes, enjoying my postorgasmic haze. That was probably the best sex I’ve ever had. When my eyes open sometime later, Blake’s chest is slowly rising and falling beneath my cheek, and I can tell that he’s sound asleep. Muffled music can still be heard, letting me know that the party isn’t over yet. Very carefully, I lift my head and peer at the alarm clock on Blake’s nightstand. I’d only fallen asleep for about twenty minutes or so. My eyes shift to Blake, and I smile as I take in his slightly messy

hair and the relaxed—but very satisfied —expression on his face as he sleeps. Looks like I’d worn him out. Good. I hope my memory lingers in the back of his mind for a long time to come. Now that the sex is over, I know that this is where we part ways. I don’t want any awkwardness with Blake, so I am very careful as I ease away from his body. I hold my breath as I gingerly climb off the mattress and wait to see if he stirs. He’s out cold. I quickly dress, and when I’m presentable, I stand next to his bed and stare down at him. The sheet is so low on his hips that a hint of pubic hair is

visible, and my lower belly tightens as I recall what lies beneath the thin fabric. My eyes travel up and over his rigid abs and defined chest before my gaze settles on his handsome, sleeping face. I want to take a moment to memorize every detail before I leave. Then, I turn and walk out of his room, soundlessly shutting the door so that the music from the party doesn’t disturb him. I manage to find a phone book in the kitchen, and after I’ve called for a cab, I slip out the back door. I’m careful to stay in the shadows as I walk around the large estate, and I quickly find my way back to the driveway. Since I don’t want to be seen by anyone, I decide to meet

the cab by the gate. With a heavy chest, I turn one last time and look towards the huge house. Blake will move on, and so will I.

Seven The second I enter the school on Monday, I can tell that things are different. People are looking at me and whispering. I ignore them, knowing that it’s my own fault for accepting Blake’s invite and going upstairs with him. We weren’t exactly inconspicuous. In all honesty, I’d known sleeping with Blake would bring a lot of unwanted attention my way, but I’d instinctively known that he’d be worth it—and he most definitely had been. The sensation of so many eyes following me grates on my nerves as I approach my locker and spin the dial.

I’d told myself that this school would be different, and instead, I’d gone and slept with the star quarterback—who’d just broken up with his girlfriend. I’m a magnet for trouble, but I just can’t seem to help myself. I’m suddenly shoved face first into my locker door with no warning, and pain explodes across my forehead and nose. I quickly spin around to deflect another attack and find Camilla standing there with several other girls flanking her side. All the commotion in the hallway abruptly quiets as all eyes turn on us. Camilla aggressively steps forward, looking down her nose at me. “You think

you can just move here and take what’s mine?” she demands in a tone that radiates superiority. I stand my ground, not the least bit scared of her. I’ve faced far meaner and bigger adversaries than this superficial, spoiled brat. “From what I hear, he was never fully yours to begin with,” I say with a smirk. She inhales sharply, her pretty face darkening. “Listen here, you little bitch. You have no idea who you’re messing with. I can make you, and I can break you,” she threatens. I’m not one to be bullied, so I drop my backpack on the floor and step closer to her as I laugh off her threat. “You,

break me? Try it, bitch.” I might have to put up with Catherine’s bullshit, but I won’t take it from anyone here at this school. Camilla leans forward, refusing to back down, her face mere inches from my own. “Oh, I’ll do more than break you. I’m going to make you wish you were never born,” she hisses as her blue eyes glitter with contempt. “Do your worst, but it still won’t erase every single hot and sweaty moment from his mind,” I taunt. Camilla’s hand shoots out, slapping me across the face, and I immediately taste blood inside my mouth. I strike back before she can defend herself,

hitting her harder than she’d hit me. She lets out a yelp and stands there, frozen. It’s clear she hadn’t really expected me to retaliate. I watch as she calmly brushes her hair out of her eyes, fury flaring across her pretty features. I lick the cut on my lip, enjoying this little showdown. Anytime I can prove that my shorter height doesn’t hinder me, and that I am very capable of defending myself, it gives me great satisfaction. I couldn’t defend myself as a little kid, but I sure as hell can now. “Where’s your threats now?” I mock. She throws herself at me, her long nails raking across my scalp. I’m not a hair-puller, and I ignore the pain as I

slam my fist into her side. Camilla grunts and falls backwards, bringing me with her as we hit the floor. In the back of my mind, I can hear shouting, but I ignore it as I concentrate on keeping Camilla from clawing my eyes out. Her fist cuffs me good on the chin, and I roll her over onto her back. I grab a handful of her hair, getting a good grip, and I slam the back of her head against the floor. She snarls and swings at me as a pair of arms wrap around my waist. I’m physically pulled off Camilla, and I struggle until I became aware that it’s a male teacher, not a student. I quickly stop resisting. Camilla is cursing as a teacher pulls her to her feet. Her long, blonde hair is a

mess, and her left eye is beginning to swell as she glares at me. The male teacher tightens his grip on her as she tries to take a threatening step towards me. “This isn’t over,” she warns. I calmly smile. “Bring it.”

~*~ By the time I leave the principal’s office, I am very much regretting my actions earlier. Not because of Camilla, she’d deserved it, and I’d enjoyed the fight. It’s just bad to have on my record, and I am extremely lucky we both are walking away from our altercation with just one day’s suspension. Fights are nothing new to me, and there’s a darker side of me that enjoys them. I know that violence isn’t the answer to my problems, but if someone comes at me, I have no problem defending myself and hitting back. I’m going to have to find a way to tame that urge of mine. One more fight with

Camilla, and I’m toast here at this school. I can’t afford to be expelled. The only positive thing to come of this morning is Catherine hadn’t picked up the phone when the principal had tried calling. She’s probably sleeping, and I’m relieved that I won’t have to deal with her. When I exit the school office, I find Nick leaning lazily against the hallway wall, waiting for me. He straightens and slips his hands in his jeans pockets, his slate eyes meeting mine. “Was it worth it?” “No,” I say sourly. I’m not in the mood for this conversation, and I turn and begin walking down the hall.

Nick falls into step beside me. “What’s the verdict?” “I can come back tomorrow.” “I’ll take you home,” he offers. I pause after we enter the lobby, and I turn to face him. “I’m good, thanks.” He gives me one of his unblinking stares. “I’m already late for class, cutting the rest of the hour won’t matter.” “I’m not going home, but thanks for the offer.” I start walking again as I adjust my backpack over my shoulder. Nick catches up to me. “Where are you going?” “Anywhere that she’s not,” I mutter under my breath, thinking of Catherine. I pass through the metal detectors and exit

the school. Nick’s determined today, and I can’t figure out why. “I take it you’re referring to your aunt?” I breathe in the fresh air as I make my way down the steps, ignoring Nick. I have no intention of explaining my rocky relationship with my aunt to him. “You work tonight?” “Yes,” I grit out, wishing he’d just go away. “Are you going to be able to cover that up?” he asks deliberately. His question throws me, and I pause to look at him questioningly. Nick motions to my face. “You’re turning purple along your cheek and

down by your lower lip,” he explains. I reach up and touch the tender areas. I’d forgotten about them, and I wince as my finger makes contact with bruised skin. “I’ll have to buy some makeup,” I mutter. Damn it. It’s a waste to spend money on something that I’m probably never going to use again. Nick cocks his head, his eyes roaming over my features. “You never wear any, do you? All I’ve ever noticed is that shiny stuff you always have on your lips.” I blink at his statement, amazed that he’d even notice my lack of makeup or the ever present lip gloss coating my lips. A smile slowly curves my lips.

“The shiny stuff is called lip gloss, and no, I don’t bother with makeup.” “Why not?” he asks with honest curiosity. “I have more important things to worry about.” “Like avoiding your aunt,” he states, his eyes watchful now. Refusing to go there with him, I start walking briskly down the sidewalk. I can sense Nick lazily following behind me. Maybe if I act like he’s not there, he’ll just go away. “This way,” I hear Nick say. I’d just turned off to follow the sidewalk that leads away from the school, and I glance back at him to see

that he’s motioning towards the parking lot. I shake my head, giving him a stubborn look. “I can take care of myself.” “So I’ve noticed. C’mon, we’ll hit up a store and get you some makeup,” he suggests. His persistence has me studying him. I have no idea why he’s putting so much effort into me, unless he’s trying to get in my pants. Kind of an odd way to get there, though. Most guys are pretty bold about what they want. Either way, I really do need to track down some makeup before my shift tonight. For the first time, I take note of the way his dark gray shirt hugs his lean, yet

muscular chest. I can’t deny it, he’s pretty fine to look at. Why am I standing here turning down a ride from someone as good-looking as him? “Did you bring your motorcycle?” I ask. “And if I did?” he asks as his eyes immediately sharpen. His answer has me grinning, and I ignore the pain as the cut along my inner lip stings. “Okay, I’m in,” I tell him. He snorts. “So that’s how it is.” “Yep.” Nick shakes his head, and we walk towards the parking lot. When we reach where he’d parked his motorcycle, he straddles it and waits for me. I slip my backpack straps securely over my

shoulders and climb on behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. The motorcycle thunders to life, and then we’re flying out of the parking lot and down the street. I close my eyes, enjoying the ride as my mind drifts. I hadn’t had a chance to see Blake today, not that I was looking for him or anything. Still, I can’t help but wonder what he thinks about the fight. I wince inwardly, because now that I think about it, it’s kind of humiliating to get in a fight over a guy that’s not even mine. He’s not hers, either, a little voice in my mind whispers. Knowing that I need to stop thinking about him, I mentally start going through

my jeans pockets and my backpack, trying to calculate how much money I have on me. I don’t have much, but it should cover a tube of concealer. Nick pulls into a store parking lot a short time later, and we go inside. I look around for the cosmetics department, and Nick silently follows. When I find it, I stare at all the different kinds of makeup lining three entire aisles. I typically buy lip gloss—the cheap flavored kind—not real makeup. “Something wrong?” Nick asks when I continue to stand there, looking uncertain. “I don’t know what to buy,” I confess. He studies me, and his lip quirks.

“You really are lost, aren’t you?” My eyes narrow. “Think you can do better?” I challenge. “Hell no. I don’t know jackshit about women stuff.” “Then shut up.” I walk away from him and begin strolling down the nearest aisle, looking for anything that says concealer. In the end, I cave and ask for a saleswoman’s help, and I walk out of the store with concealer that matches my skin tone, and a new tube of lip gloss. Nick pauses by his motorcycle and looks at me expectantly. “Where to next?” I carefully tuck my purchases in the

small compartment on the front of my backpack. “What time is it?” “I think the clock inside said ninethirty.” It’s still way too early to be going to Catherine’s. I’d prefer to go back when I’m certain that she’s left the house for the day. “You can just leave me here. I can find something to do to waste my time,” I tell him. I can just wander around the shops or something. Sounds boring, but it’s better than having to deal with Catherine. Nick’s eyes drop to the front pocket on my backpack. “Do you even know how to put that shit on?” he asks, referring to the concealer.

“It can’t be that hard, can it?” He seems to hesitate before saying, “If my dad’s not home, we can hang at my place and you can experiment with it.” I wonder if he’s hoping to get laid. He’s pretty sexy to look at. In fact, both Nick and Blake have similar builds, but Nick is just a tad taller by an inch or so. If it weren’t for the fight earlier with Camilla, I probably would have been looking for a good time too. “Look, if it were any other day, I’d probably be up for a little fun, but I’m not in the mood,” I say lightly. Realization flashes in Nick’s gaze, and he promptly scowls at me. “You

thought I was asking you for a screw?” I shift my backpack on my shoulder. “Weren’t you?” “What kind of guys have you been hanging around?” he asks, looking completely offended. “The kind that want just a screw,” I reply dryly. His eyes narrow. “Like Blake,” he states grimly. I don’t bother denying it. “Fallon, I’m trying to be your friend.” “Friend?” I echo. “I think you need one more than a boyfriend or a fuckbuddy.” A laugh bursts out of me. Boyfriend or fuckbuddy? I’ve never had either.

Usually one fuck is all most guys want, because they don’t want it to mean anything if they come back for more. My laughter fades when I see that Nick is staring hard at me, and he’s not looking the slightest bit entertained. “You’re serious,” I say slowly. He’s broodingly silent. Oh shit. “I didn’t mean to laugh in your face,” I say sincerely. “It’s just that I’ve never had a friend, and no one ever sticks around after sex, so it just—” I clamp my lips shut. I’d just said too much. Nick is now somber. “So it’s like that for you.” His expression pisses me off. “I don’t

need your pity,” I snap. Instead of waiting for his reply, I turn on my heel and start walking away. Nick grabs my arm before I can get very far, spinning me back around to face him. “Do I look like the type that would pity or look down on you? Does it look like I surround myself with friends? I’m just as alone as you are, Fallon,” he says flatly. Then he curses under his breath and looks away, a muscle ticking in his jaw. His admission has my anger fading. Now he’s the one who feels that too much has been said. I’m beginning to think that we are a lot alike in some ways.

We’re both awkwardly silent until Nick finally breaks it. “You want to hang at my place or not?” I really want to lighten the mood, so I look up at him hopefully. “Can I drive?” “No.” We walk back to his motorcycle and climb on. I’m more than a little curious to see where Nick lives, so I watch with interest as we drive through the city, and then towards the poorer areas of town. We cross the railroad tracks and begin seeing smaller houses and trailer homes scattered here and there. He eventually turns onto a gravel road, and trees surround both sides of us until we reach a turnoff, and then we’re speeding down

yet another gravel road. It’s not until we approach a bend in the road that we come upon a trailer home hidden in a secluded area. He slows the motorcycle, and I study his home. His car is parked out front, but there doesn’t seem to be any other vehicles around. Nick pulls the motorcycle closer to the trailer and cuts the engine. I slide off and look around. The white trailer is long and narrow, like your average trailer home. Wooden stairs with railings lead up to the door, and only a few windows line the front. It looks lonely and old. There’s nothing on the outside of the home to warm it up,

and no effort has been made to make it look welcoming. “It’s not much, but it’s home,” Nick says simply without shame. I’m the very last person that would ever judge him. “I don’t have one,” I say as I hold his gaze. We stare at each other for a moment, and then he nods and walks up the stairs, unlocking the door. We enter the trailer, and once more, I look around with unconcealed interest. The kitchen is to the right, and it’s small with old, brown linoleum that is peeling, and dark cupboards that have seen better days hover over the cracked counter tops. All of the kitchen

appliances are an old cream-color, and it’s obvious nothing has been updated in a very long time. A small table sits directly in front of a window, and it is completely bare except for a few unopened bills that have been tossed upon it. To the left is the living room, and shaggy, multi-colored carpet covers the floor, and against the wall is a comfortable looking couch. A flat-screen TV is attached to the opposite wall, and the room is bare of any décor. Curtains cover the main window in the living room, and another window faces the backyard. Beyond the living room is a narrow hall that leads to the bedrooms.

“Hungry?” Nick asks, breaking the silence. My attention shifts back to him, and his question has me recalling that I’d skipped breakfast this morning because I had woken up late. “A little,” I admit. “I’ll make something. Go play with that makeup of yours. Bathroom is down the hall, first door on the left.” I wander down the hall and turn on the light in the bathroom. After closing myself inside, I look around. It’s small and has the ugliest wallpaper I’ve ever seen. It’s green with some weird gold, paisley design. The curtain over the window is a thick cream, and a few men’s products lie upon the counter next

to the sink. For the first time, I inspect my face in the medicine cabinet’s mirror. Nick’s right, I am starting to bruise in a few places. With a soft sigh, I retrieve the plastic bag from my backpack and dump out the concealer and lip gloss onto the counter. Then I pocket the lip gloss before throwing the plastic bag in the garbage. It’s not long before I grow frustrated as I experiment with the makeup. I can’t seem to blend the edges with my skin tone, and I can see where I’d applied it. I wash my face to start over, and around the fourth try, it looks halfway decent. It’s the best I’ve managed yet, so I

decide it’s not worth messing with any further. A knock on the bathroom door startles me. “Food’s ready,” Nick says. After peering one more time at my reflection, I pocket the concealer and walk back to the kitchen. The trailer smells of eggs and bacon. Nick motions for me to sit at the small table, and I sink down into a chair, seeing a plate full of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. Containers of butter and jelly have been set beside my plate along with a blunttipped knife. Nick lowers himself into the opposite chair, his own plate piled high with food.

I pick up my fork. “Thank you,” I murmur. He just nods and starts eating. We’re both quiet, and the comfortable silence is broken only when Nick pushes aside his empty plate. “So, you and Blake, huh?” I finish chewing the bacon in my mouth before replying. “It was just a onetime thing.” He leans back in his chair, arms lazily folding across his chest. “Camilla’s pretty territorial over him,” he comments. “So I found out.” “She’s going to make your life a living hell at school,” he warns.

“It’s hell anyway.” Nick doesn’t say anything, and I finish eating and help him clear the table. As he rinses the dishes and neatly stacks them in the sink, I wipe the table with a damp paper towel. After I’m finished, I toss it in the garbage and turn on him. “Can I see your room?” I ask. He quirks an eyebrow at my request. “Careful, or I might think you’re the one that’s after a screw.” “Ha-ha. I was just curious, that’s all.” He looks at me quizzically. “Why does my room interest you?” I’d learned from Blake’s that he hates his life, so I’m more than a little curious about Nick’s bedroom. “You show me

yours, I’ll show you mine?” I offer flippantly. He studies me. “I’m going to hold you to that.” “I have nothing to hide.” “Neither do I. C’mon.” He leads me through the living room and down the hall to the very end. He opens a door and waits for me to step into the room first. I cross the threshold and look around. The room is small, just as I was expecting. The walls are brown, and a twin bed with black sheets rests against the wall. Since the room is so narrow, there’s only about four feet of space between the bed and the opposite wall.

The only other furniture is a nightstand next to the bed, and a dresser opposite from the doorway. He has one window in his room, and the dark curtains are open, allowing the morning sunlight to filter in. What really draws my attention is the artwork that covers the wall that his bed rests against. There are numerous sketches and drawings that have been tacked together like a patchwork quilt. I step closer to his bed so I can study the drawings. “Is this your work?” “Yeah.” I glance at him with admiration. “Nick, these are amazing.” He doesn’t say anything as he silently watches me,

and I turn back to look at each drawing. They are so detailed, and it doesn’t escape my notice that they are all darkthemed or sad. There are plenty of skulls, weeping angels, angry monsters… They say a lot about him. He’s hiding a great deal of turmoil, and it all comes out in his drawings. He’s allowing me to see his vulnerable side, and I’m amazed that he’s opening up to me, even if he hasn’t outright said anything. When my eyes slide back to him, it’s obvious that he’s feeling awkward. I watch as his eyes shift away from mine to scan the drawings on the wall— probably wondering what I’m thinking

when I look at them. “Will you draw something for me?” I ask. His eyes zero in on me, his expression unreadable. “Why?” “I want to see what you see. When you look at me,” I add softly. It’s a bold request, but I think Nick sees the world differently than most people. I sense that he might be able to understand me, and maybe even relate to the darkness that will always be a part of me. “That what you really want?” he asks intently. “Yes.” I’m fully aware that I may not like what he sees, but I’m too curious. I motion to his bed. “May I?”

“Go for it.” He walks over to his dresser and picks up a sketch pad and pencil case that had been left out. This might take a while, so I lie down on his bed, rolling onto my side to rest my cheek on my palm as I watch him walk over. He sits on the opposite end of the bed, leaning his back against the wall, the sketch pad resting on his drawn up knees so that I can’t see the paper. I smile with amusement. “This is the first time I’ve been on someone’s bed without sex being involved.” Nick looks up at me. “How does that make you feel?” “Solid.” I like that I’m not invisible to Nick, and that he doesn’t look right

through me. It feels…really, really good. “Solid?” he repeats, and I can tell that he’s trying to figure out what my answer means. When I don’t bother to elaborate, Nick realizes he’s not going to get anything more from me in reference to his question, and he turns back to his sketch pad and begins to draw. I watch him, and my eyes drift over his wrist as his hand moves, the pencil scratching against the paper. His eyelashes hide his eyes from me, and he looks to be completely engrossed in what he’s doing. I’m relaxed and zoning out when Nick breaks the silence a short time later. “Done,” he says quietly.

More than a little eager to see what he’s drawn, I promptly sit up. He hands the paper to me. It’s the most beautifully drawn rose I’ve ever seen, and it’s weeping its petals. The depth of emotion that he’d managed to put into the drawing is stunning, and my chest tightens as I stare down at it. This is what he sees when he looks at me? “You’re beautiful, but you radiate sadness,” Nick says in a careful tone, as if he’s concerned that I might be upset by what he’s drawn. It’s hard to pull my eyes away from the rose, but I do it anyway as I meet his gaze, feeling oddly vulnerable. “I do?” I ask tentatively.

“Yes, you do.” My eyes drop back down to the weeping rose. No one has ever noticed the parts of me that Nick can see. “Can I keep this?” “I drew it for you, so that makes it yours.”

Eight I’m almost ready for school the following morning when there’s a brisk knock on my bedroom door, and it pushes open. Catherine has never sought me out before, and I look up with surprise, already knowing that this is definitely a bad way to start the day. She stands in the doorway, her expression more than a little displeased. Her hair is a disaster, and she’s wearing her fuzzy, blue bathrobe. It’s evident she’d just woken up, and I assume she’d set her alarm so that she could confront me before school. “A boy came by looking for you yesterday. What did I say

about bringing them here?” she demands as her expression darkens. Who in the world…? Blake? “I didn’t ask anyone to come over,” I say calmly, standing in the center of the room as I wait to find out how much trouble I’m in. “Keep those filthy boys away from my home. If I catch one more on the premises, you’re out of here. Do you understand?” “Yes.” Her eyes narrow on my face. “Are those bruises?” I haven’t had the chance to cover them, but admitting anything will just make me look worse in her eyes, so I

remain silent. She smirks. “Tick off the wrong person, did you?” When I don’t respond, she folds her arms over her ample chest, her smile widening. “By the way, your rent is due next week,” she announces. My jaw nearly drops. “Rent? What rent?” “You’re not living here for free, and now that you have a job, you can help pay the bills.” She turns and shuts the door firmly, ending the conversation. Bitterness sweeps over me as my heart sinks. Catherine is doing everything possible to make certain that I never succeed in this town. She wants me to spiral out of control like my

mother had, and she knows paying rent is going to make it all the more difficult for me to save anything. My fists clench, and my fingernails dig into my palms as I draw in a deep breath and slowly exhale. I’m going to make this work. Things could always be worse, and at least I have a roof over my head. Refusing to let Catherine tear me down or break me, I walk over to the dresser and pick up the concealer. Sooner or later, I will have a car. It may be cheaper than I’d intended, but as long as it gets me to and from places, that’s all that matters. Plus, a car can double as my home if I still can’t afford a place of my own after graduation.

After doing my best to cover the bruises that had darkened overnight, I skip taking a shower and change into something for school. After grabbing a granola bar, I leave before Catherine can decide to make another unwelcome appearance. I’ve only made it a few blocks when I hear someone call my name. “Fallon!” I turn and watch as Blake pulls up in his Camaro. He leans over and motions for me to get in. After a brief moment of uncertainty, I step towards the car and open the passenger door. I hadn’t expected Blake to want to talk to me anymore. Once my door is closed, Blake

pulls away from the curb and drives down another block before turning a corner and parking the Camaro. “What are we doing?” I ask with confusion. Blake turns to face me, his dark eyes roaming over my features. “Talking. I heard about the fight.” There’s not much I want to say to that. The last thing I want to do is admit that the fight had been over him, although that’s quite apparent. He sighs and drags a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t thinking when I took you up to my room. I’m trying to keep things amicable with Camilla, so I didn’t want to start banning her from any parties that

I throw. I figured with us being broken up, she’d know that she has no claim on me or any right to intervene when it comes to what I do.” There’s a part of me that wants to tell him he’s an idiot for thinking any girl would just let him go without a fight. “I can handle myself,” I say instead. His mouth twitches and then forms a grin. “So I noticed. I’ve never seen Camilla with a black eye.” His expression turns serious. “I knew she wouldn’t be happy if I showed interest in someone else so soon, but I never thought that she’d physically go after you.” “I kind of baited her,” I say truthfully.

I probably shouldn’t admit that, but it’s too late now. “Why?” I look away and watch as a woman walks down the sidewalk with a small dog tugging on its leash. “I don’t know. I just didn’t like being pushed around,” I reply. “You could have been expelled.” “I know.” “This is all my fault. Camilla’s… stubborn and can be vindictive when she wants to be. If she’s this mad, she’ll likely try to get you expelled since the school has a strict no violence policy. One more physical altercation, and you’re done. I’ll talk to her, but you need

to keep your head and not allow her or her friends to instigate anything.” My eyes swing back to his. “I told you, I can handle her.” Blake’s lips tighten. “I’m really sorry, Fallon. I didn’t mean to drag you into any of this.” Great. Now he feels guilty for sleeping with me, the ‘friendless new girl’ that his ex has targeted. Anxious to end the conversation, I smile confidently. “You don’t have to worry; I’ll be fine.” I reach for the handle, opening the door. Blake lightly catches my arm to stop me. “Wait, where are you going?” I look back at him. “I’m going to walk to school.”

He releases my arm as his eyes search mine. “Why did you leave Saturday night?” I blink at the unexpected question. “Wasn’t that what you wanted?” “No, not really. I had every intention of taking you home.” “I found my own way home.” He winces. “I figured that out when I couldn’t find you.” There doesn’t seem to be much else to say, so I turn to leave. “Wait. Are you doing anything Thursday evening?” Blake asks. I turn back to face him, and he looks serious as he waits for my answer. He apparently wants a second round with

me, and I can’t help but feel elated as I take in his handsome face. I already know what’s beneath his clothes. He’d felt so good… I have absolutely no restraint. “I have nothing planned yet,” I tell him. “Can I pick you up? Maybe around six?” “I’ll watch for you. And Blake? Don’t come to the house again, okay?” He grimaces apologetically. “I thought it was you at home, not your aunt. I’m sorry if I caused you any trouble.” “You didn’t. See you Thursday.” I climb out of his car, firmly shutting the door before I resume my walk to school.

~*~ Much to my surprise, the day goes by smoothly. At one point, I manage to catch a glimpse of Camilla, and I’m pleased that she looks just as bad as I do. Fortunately, Camilla and her friends leave me alone, and I am able to concentrate on my classes without any distractions. After school, I find Nick lounging near my locker. I’m excited to see him, and I know that I am treading on dangerous ground. I’m beginning to really like him, which means my heart will be crushed when he grows bored and walks away for good. He straightens when he sees me, and

he tucks a hand in his jeans pocket as he adjusts his black backpack on his shoulder. “You work?” A faint smile touches my lips. I like how he’s a man of few words. When he does talk, it’s important, because he doesn’t make conversation just to fill in the gaps. “Yeah,” I tell him. “I’ll give you a ride.” “Thank you.” I open my locker and put away the books I’m carrying. When I’m finished, I close the door, and Nick and I begin walking. My eyes happen to clash with Blake’s across the hall, and his brown eyes shift between me and Nick, his brow furrowing. Then

Nick and I are swept along with the crowd of students, and Blake is gone from my sight. Nick walks beside me as we exit the school and head towards the parking lot. “It’s going to start cooling down,” he comments. My nose wrinkles. “I hate the cold.” “Better get used to it if you don’t have a car in the next month or so.” “I know,” I say miserably. We approach his motorcycle, and I climb on behind him and wrap my arms around his waist. As he backs out of the parking space and steers us around a car that’s stalled, I hear his words echo in my head from the other day. Fallon, I’m

trying to be your friend. A frown forms on my lips. I’m glad that he sees more in me than just an available body to enjoy, but yet I’m confused. He’s not really getting anything in return, and I learned a long time ago that people always want something—they expect it. Is this some sort of game? Is he secretly working his way up to crushing me? Some guys get off on that kind of thing. Nick seems genuine, but in my seventeen years, no one’s ever shown much interest in me. I’ve always been in the background, an annoying afterthought. I have no idea how to handle this situation with Nick. I’m also

starting to feel strangely put out that he doesn’t appear to want me. Sex is about the only thing I happen to be good at. Have I given him the impression that I’m a lousy screw? When we reach the tattoo shop, I’m still lost in thought as I climb off the motorcycle and follow Nick to the back entrance of the shop. I’m startled when Nick touches my arm, stopping me from entering the building. “You okay?” he asks as he peers down at me. I want to ask him why he’s been sticking around, but the greedy part of me is frightened that I might somehow scare him off. Even if this is all just a

game, I am still enjoying the attention. I feel like someone actually cares about me, and I want to enjoy the illusion for as long as Nick is interested. “Of course,” I say with a bright smile. His slate gray eyes narrow. “You’re lying.” “How would you know?” Those eyes of his burn into mine. “I’ve never seen you smile that brightly before, and it definitely didn’t reach your eyes.” Well hell. I glare at him. “I’m fine. Better?” The corner of his mouth tilts up with amusement. “What am I going to do with

you?” “Throw me down and have your wicked way with me?” I can’t resist teasing. His expression tenses, and he shifts his weight, putting a little physical distance between us. “You’re going to be late.” I can’t read his expression, and suddenly I’m worried. “Nick…” “I’ll give you a ride home.” He turns and opens the door, walking inside without a backward glance. I trail after him, knowing that I’ve done something wrong. I shouldn’t have teased him, and now I’m left feeling confused. Is he really not attracted to

me? How do I hold onto him for just a little longer if I can’t tempt him with sex? The day we’d been at his place, I hadn’t really cared that he wasn’t interested, because I hadn’t been in the mood. But now that he’s continuing on with this friendship stuff, I’m feeling a little lost. Guys have become predictable to me. They only think with their dicks, and once they’ve had their fun, they’re off to their next conquest. I’ve grown accustomed to it, and now I expect it. Knowing that my time with them is short is what helps keep me from getting hurt. I have no expectations. All I desire is the sex and the moment when a guy finds his

pleasure inside me. I like knowing I gave it to him, that I was good at something. But Blake and Nick have me confused, and I can’t protect my heart when I can’t predict when my time with them will end. Although, I’m assuming Blake will grow bored with me after Thursday. I still can’t believe he wants me again. As for Nick, this illusion of friendship will destroy me if I can’t figure out what he’s after. I love his attention, I’m hungry for it, but I need to start thinking logically. My entire shift is a blur, and I find Nick waiting for me when it’s over. He’s

silent as we climb onto his motorcycle, and his quietness feels normal. I’m not getting any vibes that he’s upset with me, so I relax against his back, enjoying the ride. When we approach Catherine’s house, the lights are on inside. Nick drives past the corner and continues on, and I’m immensely relieved that I don’t have to go back just yet. We drive through town once more, and at first, I don’t think he has a destination in mind until we pass the city limits. At that point, I think we’re headed to his place, but then he takes us down a few roads we’ve never been on before. He pulls off onto a dirt road that I hadn’t been

able to see until the motorcycle’s headlight had lit up the path. The road is bumpy with potholes, and I clutch Nick tightly around the waist as we drive through a wooded area. It’s completely dark out here, and I’d be uncomfortable if I were with a stranger. Instead, I just feel mild curiosity since I know Nick would never hurt me. Something glitters ahead as the headlight bounces across the wilderness, and Nick slows the bike and comes to a complete stop as we break away from the trees. My arms fall away from his waist, and I ease off the bike and walk over to the water’s edge. It’s a large pond, and trees surround the area, giving it a

tranquil and intimate feel. The moon is high in the sky, and it’s reflecting off the water’s surface, causing the pond to look very picturesque. Nick walks over to me, and I peer back at the motorcycle, noting that he’d left the headlight on so it can shine across the area to give us some light. “This is beautiful,” I breathe, inhaling the fresh air. “I come out here every so often when I need to clear my head,” he says lightly, his hands slipping into his front jeans pockets. It sinks in that he’s brought me here because he thinks I’m troubled and could use someone to talk to. Right now, I’d

rather lighten the mood and prove I’m not always the sad, lonely girl that he sees deep within me. “Do you ever swim?” I ask as a naughty idea enters my mind. His head turns, and he looks at me. “Here? No.” “Why not?” “I just never thought to.” “So let’s swim,” I suggest. “It’s nice out tonight.” Nick’s eyes slide doubtfully to the pond. “I don’t think so.” “Is it deep?” “If I’ve never gone swimming here, how would I know?” “Do you know how to swim?”

He sighs. “Yes,” he says reluctantly. “Good.” I begin stripping off my clothes as Nick stares at me with confusion. My shirt falls to the ground, and I kick off my shoes and start shimmying out of my jeans. “What the hell are you doing?” Nick asks. His expression then clears with comprehension. “You can’t be serious.” I straighten after nudging my jeans away with my bare feet, and I grin as I reach behind me and unfasten my bra, letting it drop to the ground. The cool air causes my nipples to tighten, and I stand there, hoping my nudity will entice him into having a little fun. He’s so damn sexy, I really want to test him and find

out just exactly what he’s up to where I’m concerned. Nick’s eyes immediately drop to my bare breasts, and he visibly swallows. “Fallon…” “I’d start stripping if I were you.” My suggestion has his eyes lifting to meet mine. “Why?” “Because I can’t swim. You’ll have to drag me out if it’s too deep.” I let my announcement hover in the air for a second so that he can process it. Then I turn and rush to the water before he can make a grab for me. It looks deep, but I refuse to worry as I jump in. The water closes in over my head, and I immediately sink beneath the surface.

My heart is pounding, and it’s a fabulous adrenaline rush. I like how alive I feel in this moment, and I know that Nick will pull me to the surface if he has to. My body straightens, and I test to see where the bottom is. I’m pleased to find that my toes can touch the slimy bottom of the pond, and my head breaks the surface. When I look around for Nick, I find that he’s no longer standing where I’d left him. Something splashes in the water to my right, and I turn towards the sound. Nick’s head pops up from the water, and he swims over to me. He gets right up in my face, his expression furious in the light projecting from the motorcycle. If looks could kill,

I’d be dead three times over by now. “That was stupid, Fallon.” It was, and I smile apologetically at him. “Sorry.” He swipes his hair out of his face, his body language more than just a little pissed off. “Do you know how to swim at all?” he demands. I shake my head as I let my hands drift through the water. It’s chilly, but I don’t mind. “Damn it, Fallon. You can’t do shit like that,” Nick bites out. He’s genuinely upset, and it has me sobering as I move closer to him. “Hey, I’m not stupid or suicidal,” I assure. “I only did it because you’re here with me.

And look, you’re in the pond,” I add triumphantly. He sighs and gives me another hard look. “Just when I think I might have you figured out, you do something that catches me off guard.” His comment has me peering at him with confusion. “Why would you feel that you need to?” “Because I want to,” he says simply. “You can have me without figuring me out.” He frowns. “Fallon…” I step closer to him, reaching out and brushing my fingertips along his abs beneath the water. His rigid muscles tense beneath my touch, and I

deliberately trail my hand lower. He’s wearing boxers. “I can make you feel good, Nick,” I whisper seductively as I press my breasts against his chest. “You don’t have to be nice and work your way up to what you really want.” I slip my hand beneath the waistband of his boxers and wrap my hand around his hardening length. He’s quite impressive, and I begin to stoke him as he lets out a low hiss. I work my hand up and down, wanting to seduce him. “You can have me any way you want me,” I murmur. His breathing is ragged now. “You have to stop, Fallon.” “Mmm, but you like it,” I say, pressing a kiss against the side of his

neck. “I’m right here, ready and willing.” Nick suddenly grabs my shoulders and physically moves me away from him, causing my hand to release his erection. He immediately lets go of me, and his hands disappear under the water, probably to straighten his boxers. I’m struck completely speechless. He really doesn’t want me? Nick’s angry now, and he takes a step away from me. I can see the visible tension in the lines of his neck and shoulders, and I watch as he scrubs his hands over his face. “You’d do it too, wouldn’t you?” he asks as his hands drop back into the water.

“I don’t understand, “I say uncertainly. “You liked what I was doing…” “Would you have had sex in this pond without a condom?” he asks flatly. Oh… I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. I’d just wanted to prove to myself that all he’s after is sex. I look away, knowing I would have gone ahead with it and worried about the consequences later. Nick grabs my chin firmly but gently, so as not to hurt me. “Look at me. How often do you have unprotected sex?” I’m beyond humiliated by how this evening is turning out, and I jerk my chin out of his grip, refusing to meet his gaze

“Never, okay! This would have been the first time. I wasn’t thinking when I started this!” “Why now would you take that chance?” he shoots back. “Because I’m trying to figure out what you want from me!” The second the words leave my mouth, I flinch and back further away from him. Now I’ve gone and ruined everything. “What do you mean?” Nick asks, and I can feel his attention riveted on me. I stare off at the motorcycle still shining its light brightly across the water. I’m not ready for this conversation. The water gently stirs around my

shoulders as Nick moves closer to me, his hand reaching out and brushing against my bare waist beneath the water. “Talk to me, Fallon.” I swallow past the lump that’s developed in my throat. Now the truth will come out, and I’ll know exactly where I stand with him. I need to face the brutal reality, though. After I wipe my emotions off my face, I look at him. “You don’t have to pretend to be my friend.” “If I was pretending, I would’ve let you jerk me off and a whole lot more. I would have put my dick first, not you.” I can’t help but look at him with complete bewilderment. “Why do you

pretend to care?” Nick holds my gaze captive, his eyes penetrating mine. “I’m not pretending.” “I have nothing to offer you. All I have is my body.” He stares at me for a long minute, and even in the shadows, I can see something flashing in his gaze. “Is that really how you see yourself?” I turn my head away, staring out into the darkness. “It’s always the same. It’s been that way forever.” I’m stunned when Nick draws me into his arms, holding me firmly to his warm chest. There is nothing sexual about his embrace even though my breasts are pressing against his bare skin. “There is

so much more to you than just a sexy body,” he murmurs into my ear, his hand running up and down my back in a soothing manner. There’s still a little girl inside me somewhere, begging for comfort, and I struggle against the urge to burrow into him. “Then why do they all leave?” I ask hollowly. “They leave because you’ve got shit taste when it comes to men, excluding myself that is.” He eases back, trying to peer down at me. “Look at me.” Very reluctantly, my eyes lift. He moves his head closer to mine, his eyes staring directly into my own. “You are sexy as hell, but you’re more than

that to me. I see a girl that I really want to get to know. No games, no ulterior motives. I simply want to get to know you.” “But I have nothing to give back,” I say, struggling with what he’s trying to tell me. “You give me rides to work, and you spend time with me. How do I return any of that?” “Fallon, friendship isn’t about giving or taking. It’s about being there for each other.” “But I don’t know how to be there for you like you are for me,” I protest as I begin to shiver. The cold water is beginning to bother me. Nick reaches out and briskly runs his

warm hands up and down my shoulders, trying to warm me up. “You’ve already been there when I’ve needed you.” I blink up at him. “I have? How?” “There is nothing specific you’ve done, you just…have been,” he says quietly. I know he’s serious, but I don’t understand what he means by it. “I think there’s a lot we have to learn about each other, but right now, I’m getting cold,” he says finally. “Me too,” I mumble, relieved the odd conversation is ending. “Let me take you home.” We both carefully make our way to the pond’s edge, and Nick helps me

climb out. We put our clothes on, and I shiver against his back the entire way to Catherine’s house. He stops the motorcycle at the corner and shuts it down, and after I ease off it, he swings a leg over and rises to stand in front of me. “Stop assuming I have ulterior motives, alright?” I mutely nod. “Go inside before you turn into a popsicle.” After Nick takes off on his motorcycle, I sneak into my room and ready myself for bed. Then I lie in the darkness as I think over my conversation with Nick. I’ve never come across anyone like him before. I know that he

wants me, I can tell by the way he reacts when I am close and touch him. Yet he denies himself what his body wants because he has this notion in his head that I need a friend. His offer of friendship has me feeling rattled and off-balance, and I turn onto my side as I think it over. Having a friend would be nice, but friendships don’t always last, either. That, and the sexual tension between us has now become very apparent after I’d tried to seduce him tonight. Wanting him is going to be hard to ignore, and I’m not good at being a friend. I always fail before anything can even start. This entire situation with Nick is going to backfire

and hurt me, and yet I’m too curious to see how this is all going to play out. I’m willing to see where it leads, because the connection we have is too strong to ignore, and there’s no way that I’d be able to end whatever is happening between us. I like it too much. I’m willing to go along with what he wants until he grows tired of me.

Nine I’m standing at my bedroom window that faces the corner, watching for Blake. I can just barely see the corner of the street, but I’ll still know when he pulls up to the curb. I’m looking forward to our evening. At least with Blake, I know exactly where I stand with him, and I am anticipating the heady rush of triumph when he loses himself in my arms. Blake is a temptation that I can’t seem to stay away from. Sex is fun when it’s good, and it’s definitely good with him. Tonight is going to be a welcoming distraction since I don’t have to question his intentions. It’s just sex, nothing more.

My mind shifts to Nick. I hadn’t worked yesterday or today, so I haven’t seen much of him since the pond incident. It’s probably wise to have some time away from him. It’s too easy to get wrapped up in his sweet promises. When Blake’s car pulls up at the corner, I open the window and carefully ease my legs over the windowsill. Catherine isn’t home, so I could easily use the front door, but this is quicker. I hurry across the lawn and down the sidewalk towards his car. Before he can climb out to open my door, I slip into the passenger seat. Blake gives me a welcoming smile. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He pulls away from the curb and reaches out to turn up the radio. I settle back into my seat and relax as he drives through town. We’re both comfortably quiet until he pulls the car into the garage and we go inside. “Are your parent’s home?” I ask as we enter the kitchen. There’s a part of me that wants to start messing around with him here in the kitchen. Blake looks very tempting in the V-neck tee he’s wearing, and it really shows off his toned biceps. He can definitely fill out a shirt, that’s for sure. I enjoy looking at him in it, but I’m also looking forward to taking it off so that I can explore his sexy

chest once more. He has the finest chest I’ve ever seen. “No, otherwise we wouldn’t be here,” Blake says, answering my question. He pockets his keys and flashes me one of his devastating smiles. “We have the place to ourselves. You want to swim, watch a movie, shoot pool, or play video games? Name your pleasure.” I’m momentarily thrown by his question, because the only thing I’m thinking about is sex. Isn’t that why we’re here? But now he wants to do something before we hit the sheets? This is new, but if it’s what he wants, I guess I’m up for it. “Video games sound fun.”

He gives me the oddest look. “Really?” My eyes narrow. “Was it a trick question or something?” “No,” he assures with a laugh. “I’ve just never met a girl that likes video games. You’re what I consider a rarity.” “I never said I liked them. I said they sound fun,” I correct. Blake studies me. “You’ve never played video games before, have you?” I shrug. “Good God, girl. That’s wrong on so many levels. Let me show you what you’ve been missing.” He leads me up to his bedroom, and he opens a large entertainment center to

reveal a flat-screen TV. I watch as he begins pulling out controllers. Then he walks over to sit on the floor at the foot of his bed, his back leaning against the edge of the mattress. He pats the carpet beside him, looking up at me expectantly. “C’mon.” Feeling like I’ve stepped into an alternate universe, I walk over and sit down next to him, leaning my back against the bed. Blake’s eyes meet mine. “If you get bored, don’t hesitate to say something,” he insists. “Okay.” He’s picked a game that we both can play at the same time, and he first

explains how the controllers work before he begins the war game. I sit back and watch as he runs through one battle so that I can see what we’re doing. It doesn’t escape my notice that his eyes have lit up, and he’s playing with enthusiasm. This is clearly something he loves. “Is this your favorite game?” Blake shakes his head, his eyes never wavering from the TV as his character continues shooting at another player. “Nah, Zelda’s legendary. It’s a oneperson game though, so I thought I’d put in Call of Duty so you can play, too. Otherwise, if you don’t like this one, I think I’ve got a couple of racing games

we can try.” “What’s Zelda?” He pauses, and his brown eyes swing towards me incredulously. “You don’t know about Zelda?” “No. You’re about to die,” I warn when I glance at the TV and find that he’s nearly dead as someone repeatedly shoots at him. Blake’s attention shifts back to the game, and he finds that his character has just died. He sets the controller down and turns on me. “What planet have you been living on if you don’t know about Zelda?” he asks, humor dancing in his gaze. I love his teasing attitude, and I’m not

about to ruin it by admitting my childhood had sucked. “Obviously not the same one you’ve been living on,” I laugh. “No shit. Screw Call of Duty, I’m going to have you play Zelda instead.” He rises to his feet and walks over to the entertainment center. For the next hour, he’s content to talk me through the game, and his warm words of encouragement cause my toes to curl. Spending time with Blake is turning out to be quite fun, and I simply enjoy our time together and the attention he’s giving me. “I see you’ve been hanging with Nick Parrish lately,” Blake comments lightly.

My attention is drawn away from the game as I glance at him. From the odd tone in his voice, he isn’t thrilled over my friendliness with Nick. “He’s been giving me rides to my job,” I explain. “I didn’t know you had a job,” he says slowly. “Nick works right next door, it’s how we met.” The game is now completely forgotten, and I set aside the controller. “So you work at the grill or the candy store?” “You know where Nick works?” I ask with interest. I didn’t think they were even aware of each other since they are polar opposites. They definitely don’t hang in the same social settings, so I’d

just assumed their paths rarely crossed. Blake’s expression promptly shuts down. “We used to be friends.” I’d had no idea, and I wonder what had happened. I would have never guessed that those two were once friends. Blake is so laid-back whereas Nick is so intense. “I work at the candy store,” I say in reference to his earlier question. I’d like to ask more about their past friendship, but it’s apparent Blake would prefer not to talk about it. “He into you?” Blake asks, his eyes locking on mine. “We’re just friends.” That sounded so weird rolling off my tongue. Blake doesn’t say anything, and his

attention returns to the game we’d momentarily forgotten. We play for a little longer until he stands and stretches, his shirt riding up slightly so I can see the “V” of his hips. I stand, rubbing my butt that had grown numb. What an interesting evening this is turning out to be. Blake lowers his arms and pats his back pocket, checking that he still has his wallet on him. “I’m hungry. Want to go eat somewhere downtown?” he asks as he looks at me expectantly, waiting for an answer. What? Aren’t we supposed to be having hot, sweaty sex? I’m at a loss for words as I try to figure out what he’s up

to. Blake looks amused by my expression. “Why do you look so confused? Eating is a normal everyday occurrence, you should be quite proficient at it by now,” he teases. He seriously wants to go eat. My eyes shift to the bed where I recall in vivid detail riding him until we couldn’t hold back any longer. I thought the sex had been great. Was I wrong? “What in the world is going on in that head of yours?” Blake murmurs. My attention returns to him. “Don’t you want to have sex?” I blurt. A wicked smile forms across his lips, and his eyes deliberately run over my

body. “Definitely, but if I toss you on my bed and have my way with you, you might think that’s all that I’m after.” “Isn’t it?” Blake blinks and all humor fades. “Wait, you thought I brought you here just so I could bang you and then send you on your way?” I meet his gaze unflinchingly. “Yes.” He looks offended. “So all this time I’ve been coming off as a total douchebag?” What the hell? Did I somehow move to mars instead of Ohio? “Of course not. I just thought you wanted to have sex again.” “I do,” he says honestly. “You have

no idea how badly I want you again, but I can’t get to know you if we’re always in my bed, screwing each other senseless.” I’m speechless. Twice in one week…? I don’t understand why Nick and Blake are so interested in me. It’s what I’ve always wanted, but now that it’s actually happening, I’m scared to dare believe it. Blake looks puzzled as he watches the emotions flickering across my face. “I can tell that I’ve caught you off guard. Now that I think about it, I guess I can see how you’d get the wrong idea since we hooked up Saturday. You’re irresistible, and when I realized you

wanted me too, I went for it. I had every intention of getting to know you though, I still do.” I’m not sure what to say. Blake studies me, his expression tensing. “Hell, I was the one who was just the screw, wasn’t I?” Answering his question is currently beyond my capabilities. I’m still struggling to process that he’s interested in more than just sex. “Fuck,” Blake says under his breath. “I’ve been making a fool out of myself for the past few hours, haven’t I?” It sinks in that this conversation is going downhill faster than I can process it. “Just wait. Give me a second,” I

quickly cut in, preventing him from saying anything more. He falls silent and stares at me, grim humiliation etched across his features. I walk over and touch his chest to show my sincerity. “I’ve enjoyed the past few hours. It was a pleasant surprise.” I draw in a deep breath and confess, “I’m just used to guys wanting to hook up and nothing more. I never considered that you might actually want to get to know me.” His humiliation begins to fade. “I just thought I was rebound sex,” I add. Blake’s expression slowly relaxes. “I can see why you’d think that, but I’ve

been over Camilla for months, probably even longer than that. You were never a rebound.” He hesitates. “Honestly, I don’t know what you are other than a breath of fresh air that I enjoy being around. Does that mean this will lead to anything? Hell if I know. All I care about at this point is that I want to spend time with you.” I like his honesty. He’s not making promises, and he’s making it clear that he’s not even sure what we’re doing. He’s just as confused as I am, and that has me feeling more relaxed with the situation. I try hard to hold back my excitement over him wanting more than just sex, because I know that if we

continue this, I have twice the chance of getting hurt with both Nick and Blake in my life. It’s scary but yet exhilarating. Blake looks at me questioningly. “Well, now that everything is out in the open, what are we going to do? Do you want to continue whatever this is?” If this had happened before my failed seduction with Nick, I would be floundering. But now that Nick wants to be friends, and I’ve been through one of these conversations already, I’m not as shocked as I would have been. There’s no way I am going to walk away from whatever it is that Blake’s offering me. All this time I’ve been assuming that I am unlikable, that something is wrong

with me. Maybe…I was wrong. “I want to continue if that’s what you want,” I tell him. He slowly smiles. “I want,” he says firmly. He’s reaching for me when he suddenly goes still, his head tilting as he listens intently. “Shit. Someone’s home early.” “Is that bad?” “Yes.” He grabs my hand, pulling me towards his bedroom door. “Don’t talk until we’re clear of the house,” he warns. I’m shocked by this new turn of events, but I silently follow him as he leads me into the hall and in the opposite direction of the stairwell. When we

reach what I had once thought was a dead end, I find that there’s another hall around the corner. It’s short, and it takes us to a narrow set of stairs. When we reach the first floor, we creep down another hall to a back door that leads out to the pool deck. Blake confidently holds my hand in his as we walk along the side of the house, and then around the garage to enter the still open doorway. An expensive, dark SUV is parked next to his car, and he pulls out his keys and opens the Camaro’s passenger door for me. I quickly get in, and a second later, he’s driving down the driveway and past the open gate. “What was that about?” I ask

cautiously. Self-disgust flickers across Blake’s face as he grips the steering wheel tightly. “That was me being a pussy and not wanting to face my mom. My parents have been shoving Camilla down my throat for years, and they aren’t happy that I broke it off with her.” “Your parents pressured you into dating her?” He sighs, glancing at me with resignation. “It just seemed easier to give in at the time, but once I opened that door, I couldn’t shut it.” “Don’t they understand that you’re not interested in her?” “It’s not that easy,” he says.

“Camilla’s parents are closely tied to my own, and my dad and Camilla’s father are planning a future business merger.” He looks at me bitterly. “My parents have had my life mapped out for years,” he explains before facing forward again. “I’m supposed to follow in my dad’s footsteps and play college football, join his fraternity, and maybe even go pro. While I’m making a name for myself, I’m supposed to be building connections with those that could help further my career once I’m part of the family business. There’s a wedding and heirs in there somewhere too, I just can’t remember which years those were planned for,” he mutters.

“They just expect you to go along with all that?” I ask, completely shocked that they would make all his decisions for him. “Pretty much. I’m their only child, so it’s been instilled in me from an early age that I have a role to play in the family. When I don’t…” His voice trails off, and his jaw tightens. “I want to get out so damned bad, but I don’t know how.” “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I know that sounds so impersonal, but that’s just…” He glances at me, his lips twisting unhappily. “I told you my life is a lie. My life is theirs, not my own.” “What about when you turn

eighteen?” He sighs. “I don’t know.” I’m quiet now, because I don’t know what to say. Blake reaches out and takes my hand as he drives. “I don’t know what it is about you that makes me overshare,” he says wryly. I squeeze his hand and flash him a smile. “I’m honored that you do.” He returns my smile as he slows down at an intersection. “It’s nice sharing my problems with someone. I get tired of holding it all in.” “Isn’t there anyone that you can talk to about the things that bother you?” “There used to be, but not lately.

None of my friends would understand my need to break away from…all of it.” He sighs again and looks at me as we wait for the light to change. “Someday, I want to find out who I am without the rich, controlling father and all the fucking glory and shit that goes along with being a Cavanaugh.” It’s ironic. I’ve always been alone in the world while Blake has been suffocated by his family. I’ve yearned to have a set of parents involved in my life, but maybe it’s not as great as I’d thought it would be. “You’ll get your chance,” I murmur. “It’s hard to do anything when you’re not considered a legal adult. You also have

to graduate high school to really get anywhere in this world. That stuff ties you down no matter what your situation is.” The light turns, and Blake faces the road again. “Yeah, I hear you.” We both are quiet until Blake turns onto my street, and I look at him with surprise. “You’re taking me home?” He pulls the car over to the curb a moment later. “As much as I want to spend more time with you, I need to go back,” he says. “Why?” “Because it’s expected of me.” He pulls out his cell phone and looks at me expectantly. “What’s your number?”

I flush with embarrassment. “I don’t have one.” Blake looks at me with bewilderment. “You don’t have a cell phone? At all?” I shake my head. “Why? Won’t your aunt let you have one?” “It’s not that,” I mutter, wishing he’d just drop the topic. “You have a job. Wouldn’t that pay for a phone?” “I need a car more than I need a cell phone,” I say uncomfortably. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Blake says as a flush creeps up his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I

was just hoping I could text you and stuff.” He clears his throat. “I mean if that was what you wanted. If you had a phone,” he adds. His awkwardness has me smiling. “It would have been nice,” I admit. Blake’s expression relaxes. “I love how genuine you are,” he murmurs. Then he leans over and kisses me. I move closer, my hand reaching up to rest on his chest as his tongue strokes mine. Neither of us are willing to break the kiss, so we kiss deeply, enjoying one another until Blake reluctantly pulls away. He reaches out and brushes my lower lip with his thumb. “I’d better go,” he

says lightly. I can’t resist pressing a soft kiss to the pad of his thumb. I’m finding that Blake is someone who likes to be affectionate, and I absolutely love how he makes me feel. “See you at school,” I murmur. “I’ll walk you to your window,” he offers, his eyes betraying that he’s not ready to end our evening yet. I shake my head, knowing that it’ll just lead to more kissing. As much as I would enjoy it, I don’t want to cause further problems for him if he’s expected at home. “I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I tell him with a smile. After Blake leaves, and I am sitting

on my bed, I pull out Nick’s drawing to study it. I have two guys in my life that actually want to get to know me. They both seem to see me in different ways, but yet they still see me. I’m going to savor every moment until they decide that they don’t want me anymore.

Ten As I walk across the school grounds the following morning, I notice that people are staring at me. When a group of guys begin checking me out, I start to frown. Not that it’s abnormal for a couple of guys to show a little interest, but I rarely get this much attention from an entire group. What is going on? Do they know that Blake dropped me off a block away before driving the rest of the way himself? Blake insists that it isn’t because he doesn’t want to be seen with me. He thinks that if he flaunts me in front of Camilla too much, it’s going to cause further issues between him and his

parents. I don’t blame him. Someone lets out a loud wolf whistle, and I have no idea if it’s directed at me or not, but I hear laughter following in my wake. Something is definitely going on, and I’m betting it has to do with me, and Camilla is likely the cause of it. As I enter the school and start walking the halls, I notice that people are looking at their cell phones and talking in hushed whispers. Something is circulating through social media. Three guys are admiring something on a cell phone when one of them looks up, spying me. He flashes me a lecherous grin. “What’s your number?” he calls.

I walk past him and his friends, ignoring them. When I turn down the next hall, there’s a commotion up ahead, and people are rushing towards it. I naturally follow along out of curiosity. When I hear someone murmur Blake’s name, a bad feeling stirs in my gut, and I begin elbowing my way through the crowd. When I reach the front and see Nick and Blake fighting, I’m stunned. Nick has the front of Blake’s shirt in his grip, and he slams him into a row of lockers. “She wouldn’t be in this mess if you’d just kept your dick in your pants,” he bites out. Blake shoves Nick away from him, his face full of fury. “Fuck off, Parrish.

You don’t know shit about Fallon.” Nick, refusing to back off, stalks towards him, his fists clenching. “I know enough to know that you’re bad for her. You’re the last thing she needs.” “She doesn’t seem to think that,” Blake taunts. He lowers his shoulders and tackles Nick, his right shoulder slamming into his stomach. The momentum sends Nick into the opposite row of lockers, and the crash is deafening in the hallway. Quick as lightening, Nick’s fist shoots out and makes contact with Blake’s jaw. Blake stumbles backwards, and Nick shoves him, his expression promising further violence

This has to do with me? What the hell? I rush over and quickly try to break up the fight by placing myself in front of Blake, who has managed to gain his footing and was beginning to launch himself at Nick. “Stop it!” I yell, and I feel Blake’s chest collide with my back before his arms wrap around me to keep me from falling face first into Nick. I stand between them, Blake’s arms protectively wrapped around me as Nick stands before us, his expression grim. “Break it up!” an authoritative voice yells above the sound of students cheering on the fight. More teachers arrive, and my third

period teacher, Mr. McGregor, looks at Nick and Blake—with me still standing between them. “You three, to the office. Now.” I wasn’t involved in the fight, at least not physically, but I don’t mind tagging along. They were fighting over me, and I want to find out why. The crowd parts, and two teachers hover closely on either side of us as we begin walking down the hall. I move closer to Blake, who is wiping blood off his lip. I want to ask him what is going on, but the teachers are right there. He meets my questioning gaze, and his brown eyes look troubled. “I’m going to take care of it,” he vows in a

low, grim voice. “Take care of what?” I whisper with confusion. Nick overhears us and steps closer. “Shit. She doesn’t know yet,” he says under his breath to Blake. My eyes shift to Nick, and he’s gazing at me with sad eyes. “What is going on?” I demand. “Enough,” one of the teachers cut in. When we arrive to the office, we are shown to a row of plastic chairs that line the wall just outside the principal’s office. After another warning to be on our best behavior, we’re left alone as the school’s secretary watches us with an eagle eye.

I turn on Blake and Nick. “Someone tell me what is going on, right now.” They both look away, avoiding my gaze. “Now.” Nick sighs and pulls his cell phone out of his jeans pocket. He swipes the screen and hands it to me, his expression telling me that I’m not going to like whatever’s on it. I accept it and peer at the screen. It’s a photo of myself, and I recognize the gym shower stall. During my shower sometime this past week, someone had peeled back a corner of the curtain and had taken a photo of me. It’s a side pic instead of full frontal, and a hint of my

butt is showing, and one of my breasts is in full view, my nipple visibly distended. So this is what everyone’s been looking at today? I look up to find both Nick and Blake watching me intently. “This is why you guys were fighting?” I ask. Nick scowls. “If he hadn’t dropped Camilla for you, she never would have done something like this. It’s all over social media, Fallon. It was sent to everyone’s phone, and from what I gather, it’s all over by now.” Blake shoots Nick a look. “I didn’t drop Camilla for Fallon. I would have broken up with her anyway.” “You guys,” I cut in. “It’s just a

picture, it’s not the end of the world.” They both turn to stare at me as if I’ve grown a second head. Maybe I should be more upset about it, but I’m not. I’ve never been selfconscious about my body, and I’ve dealt with much worse situations in the past. If Camilla thought she was going to humiliate me, it’s not going to happen. It’s just a stupid picture. It’s not threatening me physically, and it doesn’t change my current circumstances. It is what it is. Nick seems to choose his words carefully. “Fallon, that nude picture is never going to go away,” he says softly. I look at them steadily. “It can’t be

taken back, so there’s no point in getting upset over it.” Blake gives me an odd look. “You’re taking this a little too calmly.” “For once, I am in agreement,” Nick says as his eyebrows furrow. “Who threw the first punch?” I ask, switching the topic. They both are stubbornly silent. I’m about to demand an answer when I hear a familiar voice, and I look up. Catherine’s across the room, speaking with the secretary. She is not happy. “Oh shit,” I say under my breath. Why would they call Catherine? The actual photo is something I can brush off. Catherine, on the other hand, she could

kick me out over this. My heart begins to pound in my chest, and a cold sweat breaks out across my forehead and under my arms. “Who’s that?” I hear Nick ask. “Her aunt,” Blake replies. They both look at me expectantly, waiting for me to clarify why I’m so unhappy. I stay silent, my mind a chaotic mess. “So a nude photo you can handle, but your aunt rattles you just by being here?” Nick asks dryly.

~*~ That evening, I’m scrubbing the kitchen floor with an old toothbrush— Catherine’s way of punishing and humiliating me. Now that she’s left for her shift at the hospital, I can stop, but I have nothing better to do. I don’t work tonight, and I haven’t heard from Blake or Nick. They were probably suspended, and I’m a little worried about Blake. If his parents are already upset with him about Camilla, I can only imagine how they’d reacted to the news of him being suspended for fighting. As for Nick, I’m guessing that his dad won’t care. I still can’t believe that they’d been fighting…over me. I’m not sure how I

feel about it, and I’m worried over how they’d gone after each other like they had. I wonder what had destroyed their friendship. My back is starting to hurt, so I set aside the toothbrush and stand, stretching my stiff muscles. I’m calling it quits with the floor. It looks clean enough and should pass Catherine’s inspection tomorrow. Since I’ve been at it for hours thanks to being home all day, I head for the bathroom and start a hot bath to ease my muscles. The principal had sent me home for the day because of all the commotion over the photo. He’d made it clear to Catherine that it wasn’t a punishment, but that it would be wise to

avoid any further drama for the day. He claims to be looking into the matter of the photo himself, but it doesn’t change anything. I’m aware that the photo is now out in the world forever, and I’ve already come to terms with it. My face isn’t all that clear in the photo, and a picture of my breast isn’t that big of a deal—at least not to me. Later that night, I’m sitting on my bed working on homework when I hear a soft tap on my window. I start with surprise and glance at the alarm clock sitting on the dresser. It’s past eleven. I hurry to the window and draw back the curtain, knowing that it has to be Blake or Nick. Moonlight reflects off of blond hair.

I push open the window and stand back. Blake easily pulls his body up and over the edge of the windowsill, and then lithely straightens his body before turning and closing the window. When he faces me again, his brown eyes roam over me with interest. I’m wearing a tank without a bra and a pair of short, women’s boxers. “This ok? That I’m dropping in like this?” he whispers cautiously. I smile, pleased that he’d come to see me. “My aunt is gone, so it’s fine. Come sit and tell me what happened today.” We walk over to the bed, and he politely waits for me to sit before he sinks down next to me. “I take it you were

suspended?” I ask as I study the bruise on his jaw and the small cut on his lip. Blake stretches out his legs, avoiding my gaze. “Yeah.” “I’m sorry. How mad were your parents?” “Pretty mad since I couldn’t play tonight.” His head turns, and he looks at me searchingly. “How are you doing?” “Me? I’m fine.” “Were things bad after I left?” “The principal suggested I go home for the day so that things could calm down over the weekend.” Blake’s eyes sharpen as his shoulders stiffen. “It’s not going on your record or anything, is it?” That picture isn’t your

fault, far from it,” he says darkly. “I’m not in any trouble,” I assure. He looks relieved, and he reaches for my hand, sliding his fingers through mine so that we’re holding hands. “Was your aunt pretty mad?” “A little.” She’d been pissed and had given me a long list of cleaning duties for the weekend. Blake sighs. “That picture has Camilla written all over it because it’s something she would do. I heard it came from a disposable phone, so she’ll probably never get in trouble for it.” He looks at me with a hint of confusion. “I don’t understand how you can be so calm about it.”

“It can’t be taken back.” His eyes roam over my face. “No, but it’s okay to be upset over it,” he says gently. “Blake, it’s just a picture, and it’s not that bad. There’s not much to see anyway.” “You completely mystify me,” he says with wonder etched across his handsome features. “Every girl that I’ve ever met would be in tears, and here you sit, shrugging it off.” “I just don’t see the point of dwelling over something that I can’t change.” Blake looks momentarily impressed until his expression turns grim. “I thought I’d handled Camilla, but it looks like I

need to rethink my strategy.” “What do you mean?” “I’m not going to allow her to come after you like she is,” he says flatly. “I can deal with her, Blake,” I insist. Blake shouldn’t be going after Camilla. All that’ll do is aggravate his parents and make his own life more difficult than it already is. He grimaces. “You shouldn’t have to. This is my fault, Fallon.” I shake my head. “It’s not your fault that she’s the way she is. You have every right to be with anyone you want.” “If you think I’m just going to turn my back on this shit, you don’t know me yet.”

He’s determined to fix this, and I look at him questioningly. “What do you think you can do?” “I’ve known her all my life, so I know a lot about her that others don’t.” He looks down at our interwoven fingers. “Camilla has two sides, the one she shows me, and the one that comes out when she’s feeling threatened or cornered. I don’t want to hurt her, but she’s not really giving me much of a choice.” I move closer to him, touching his arm. “Don’t. Not for me.” He looks up at me, his eyes burning into mine. “You don’t get it. You’re worth it, Fallon. If I have to choose, I

choose you.” His declaration has me staring at him. What exactly does that mean? Blake clears his throat and averts his gaze as he pulls a black cell phone out of his pocket. The cover on it is very feminine with a purple, floral design. “Here, I got you something.” My brow creases as I stare at the phone in his hand. Am I understanding him correctly? “You bought me a phone?” I ask. He holds it out to me. “This way we can text back and forth. It’s yours,” he says quickly. “Even if this thing between us doesn’t work out, I want you to keep it. You should have one in case of an

emergency.” I frown at him. “You can’t just buy me a phone.” “I already did,” he says with a crooked smile. “I can’t accept it, Blake.” “Sure you can. Everything has been prepaid. You won’t have to renew your contract for quite some time,” he assures. I shake my head. “I can’t.” “Fallon, I want you to have it.” The determination in his gaze tells me that this is going to be a long, drawn out argument. I rise to my feet, walking to my window to stare out into the backyard.

My mom had accepted money, drugs, whatever she could in exchange for sex. If I take it, that means I’m just like her. I hear Blake walk up behind me. “Why can’t you accept it?” Since I can’t avoid him, I turn around and find him staring down at me with disappointed eyes. I grasp for an explanation, because I don’t want to hurt his feelings. “It would just feel… weird.” He looks confused. “Why would it feel weird? It’s a gift, Fallon.” “I know, and I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I don’t need it.” His eyes narrow, and he gives me a look. “Yes, you do. You don’t have a car,

and you walk downtown to your job. You should have a phone on you, and pepper spray or something.” How am I supposed to argue with that? Blake reaches out and brushes a strand of hair away from my face. “I’ll worry about you less if you have it on you. Please.” I peer up at him, and I can feel myself caving to his plea. He’s really hard to say no to. “I’ll accept it on one condition,” I say finally. “What’s that?” “I pay you back.” He sighs. “You are so stubborn,” he says affectionately. “Fine, but only after

you get a car. Deal?” “Deal,” I agree. He leans down and presses his lips against mine, kissing me. My arms immediately slip around his waist as I tilt my head back, my lips parting so that the kiss can deepen. He’d recently eaten something that tastes like cherries, and the kiss is slow and provocative. Before it can grow out of control, I decide to end the kiss so that he can answer more of my questions. He protests, and I loop my arms around his neck, my face inches from his. As much as I’d love to makeout, the fight today is more important. “How did the fight start?” Blake doesn’t say anything as his

eyes linger on mine. I can tell that he’s trying to figure out what to say before he says it out loud. “Nick came at me. He has a short fuse.” Then, as if to distract me, his hands slide down to my butt as he teasingly begins to massage it. “So he threw the first punch,” I press, ignoring his wandering hands. “To be honest, I’m just as guilty. I kind of pushed his buttons,” he mutters. “How?” His eyes gleam devilishly as he cups my bottom with both hands, and he lifts me a few inches so that his hips are pressing directly into mine. “It doesn’t matter.” I’m not about to push further, and I

smirk at his diversionary tactics. “Why are you here so late?” “I had to sneak out. My parents think I’m in bed.” I’d like to mess around, but I know that he needs to leave. “You should go then,” I murmur. He groans. “I know. One more kiss,” he insists. His lips lower to mine, and we share another kiss as he rocks his hips against me. He’s already growing hard, and this is going to lead to a lot more than kissing if one of us doesn’t put an end to it. I laugh against his lips and untangle myself from his embrace. “Horny, much?” I tease.

He smirks. “For you, always.” Then he sobers and walks over to the window. “Text me anytime you want, Fallon.” “You too.” He opens the window and turns to me. “If you need a ride to and from work this weekend, call me. If I can get away, I’ll come for you.” I nod and watch as he leaves. Once he’s gone, I sit on my bed and study the phone more closely. I can tell that he’d spent a lot of money on it, and I’m uncomfortable over that fact. The phone chirps in my hand, startling me. The screen glows, and there’s a little icon in the corner. I swipe at it, and a new text message pops up. It’s from Blake. Loved

the outfit. A grin stretches across my lips. Okay, so maybe I’m going to learn to love this gift of his after all.

Eleven It’s my break, and I’m sitting on the bench outside the store Saturday evening, taking a much needed breath of fresh air. I haven’t seen Nick since the school office, but I know I’ll see him tonight if he works. He’s likely going to want to talk about the photo, and I have no idea how I’m going to handle that conversation. He blames Blake for it, and I don’t think that’s fair. I still can’t believe he’d gone after Blake in my defense. I think it’s in everyone’s best interest that those two stay far away from each other from now on. I don’t need them further complicating my

relationships with them. I’m just now managing to get a grasp on how to handle their interest in me, I certainly don’t need added drama. After work, I find Nick lounging outside the candy store’s doorway. “Want a ride?” he asks. “Thanks.” We walk through the tattoo shop and exit out the back, entering the parking lot. I’d noticed as we’d walked through the shop that Nick has a small cut on his lip. I sigh inwardly. If anyone would have told me a month ago I’d be in this predicament with two very sexy guys, I would have laughed it off with sarcastic disbelief.

We walk over to the motorcycle, and Nick looks at me questioningly. “Want to hang for a bit?” I nod. “My place?” “Sure.” I climb on behind him and wrap my arms around his waist, my hips cradling his ass. A zing of excitement shoots through me as the motorcycle roars to life. I love riding it, but I also enjoy holding onto Nick. The ride goes by fast, and a short time later, we step into the trailer and make our way to Nick’s bedroom. I walk over and sink down onto his bed as he strides to his dresser, picking up a

package of cigarettes. He grabs an ashtray and looks at me questioningly. “Do you mind?” I shake my head. This is his home; he can do what he wants. He opens a window before sitting down on the bed, the ashtray resting near his thigh. “Anything being done about that photo that’s circulating?” he asks without preamble, his eyes on mine as he waits for my answer. “Too many people have it.” Nick’s eyes slide away as he studies the window, a moody expression on his face while he lights a cigarette and starts to smoke it. I draw my legs to my chest, draping

my arms around my knees. “It’s not his fault,” I say in a careful tone. “Camilla’s always been a bitch, but he should have known better and dealt with her before it went this far,” he says, his eyes sliding back to me. “Camilla isn’t his responsibility. And I’m not yours,” I remind. His eyes stay locked on mine, but he doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then he breaks the tense silence. “You don’t seem too upset over the photo.” “There isn’t anything I can do about it,” I reason. “True, but it’s out there now. That has to bother you somewhat.” “It sucks,” I agree, “but I’m not going

to let it get me down.” Nick sets the cigarette in the ashtray. “He doing anything about it?” “He says he is.” “He better or I will,” he says with a soft edge to his tone. “You’d do that?” “Someone has to before the situation escalates.” “You think it would?” I ask. His mouth twists. “The rich tend to think they’re invisible, so yeah,” he says dryly. I wonder if he thinks of Blake in that cynical way too. Blake might come from wealth, but I get the impression that he’d walk away from it all in a heartbeat if he

could. “You were suspended for the day, so what did you do?” I ask, deciding it’d be wise to switch the topic. He reaches for his cigarette again. “I just went to the shop. How did the rest of your day go?” he asks as he puts the cigarette between his lips and inhales. I’m momentarily distracted as I watch his mouth. “I just cleaned around the house.” Nick frowns as he turns his head to blow the smoke the other way before looking back at me. “You didn’t stay at school?” “I was told I could be excused for the rest of the day. I think the principal was worried about more disturbances,” I

explain. Nick’s lips tighten. “The guys are going to harass you.” “I’m expecting it.” “You were upset to see your aunt,” he comments with watchful eyes. “Who wouldn’t be upset in a situation like that?” I ask flippantly. “I get the feeling that not much rattles you, except for her.” I drop my knees and situate myself more comfortably, my legs folding to the side. “She doesn’t rattle me,” I deny. “I just don’t like her.” “Why?” “Why does it matter?” I counter back. “I’m just trying to get to know you

better.” “You can do that without my aunt in the picture,” I point out. “True, but considering you live with her, her presence has an effect on you, so in turn, it affects me.” “No, it doesn’t.” “I can tell when you’re upset, Fallon.” I ease myself back so that I can sit against the wall, and I cross my arms defensively. “So?” He sighs. “Fine, you don’t want to talk about her, we won’t.” My phone chimes in my back pocket, letting me know that Blake has text messaged me.

Nick gives me an odd look and stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray. “Was that your ass that just beeped?” I snicker and pull out the phone. “Yep.” I bring up the new text message and read it. You need a ride? I quickly send back, I’m good. Nick’s studies the phone in my hand. “When did you get that?” “Blake insisted on buying it for me, and I couldn’t say no,” I murmur. My phone chimes again, and I read Blake’s next text. You busy? I quickly type, Yes, I’ll text you later. Nick is oddly silent, and I glance at him as I slip the phone back in my pocket. “I’m paying him back,” I clarify.

“I see.” He’s acting weird. “Do you think I asked for it?” I ask stiffly. “What? No. That thought never crossed my mind,” he insists. “I turned it down, but he was really persistent and insisted that I should have one in case of an emergency.” He holds out his hand. “I can’t argue with that. May I see it?” I dig it back out and hand it to him. He swipes the screen to turn on the phone and looks at me questioningly. “Want my number?” I smile. “Of course.” He brings up my list of contacts, which is extremely short, and adds his

number. He hands it back to me, and I tuck it away in my pocket. “You told me things were casual between you and Blake. Has that changed?” he asks. “I’m not sure,” I say truthfully. “He’s not my boyfriend or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.” He reaches for the pack of cigarettes and pulls out a new one, rolling it between his fingers instead of lighting it. “So it’s just physical?” “It’s…complicated,” I say awkwardly. “Blake said that you guys used to be friends,” I comment. Nick’s fingers stop rolling the cigarette, and his gray eyes lift to mine. “He did, did he?”

“He didn’t share details or anything,” I quickly add. Nick doesn’t say anything, and he flicks the cigarette aside with disinterest. “Were you guys close?” I can’t help but press. “You know how you didn’t want to talk about your aunt? I feel the same about Blake,” he says simply. “Got it.” I shift on the bed, lying on my side with my head on his pillow. I look up at him, gazing at him hopefully. “Will you draw something for me again?” “Right now?” he asks with surprise. “Or do you have to be in the mood?”

“I can draw whenever.” He picks up the cigarettes and ashtray, rising to his feet. My eyes follow him as he retrieves his sketch pad and pencils. When he comes back to the bed, he situates himself comfortably on the other end, and he looks at me questioningly. “What do you want me to draw?” “Draw what you see now. In me,” I say quietly. He nods and gets to work. I watch him until my eyelids grow heavy and drift shut. “Fallon, time to wake up.” At the sound of Nick’s voice, I stir and open my eyes sleepily. Nick is leaning over me, and I look around his

room with confusion until I recall our evening. I bring my arms over my head and stretch, my back arching. “What time is it?” Nick watches me from where he stands beside the bed. “Time for me to take you home.” I sit up, yawning. “Did you draw me something?” “Yes.” Without another word, I rise to my feet, still a bit groggy. Nick seems amused by my sleepiness, and he leads me out of the trailer and to his car. I relax into the passenger seat, almost dozing as he drives me home. When we reach the house, he insists on walking

me to my window, even pushing it open for me. He then hands me a folded piece of paper. I take it with confusion until I realize it’s the drawing he’d done for me. I smile. “Thank you.” “You work tomorrow?” “No. You?” I ask. “Yeah. I’ll see you Monday then.” Nick hovers near the window to make sure that I climb into my room without any mishaps, and then he disappears into the shadows and out of sight. After I close and lock the window for the night, I stretch out on my bed with the paper. I’m about to unfold it when my phone chimes in my pocket. I set Nick’s

drawing aside and pull out the phone. Blake wants to know if I’ve fallen asleep. I roll over onto my stomach and type back a response to his question. No. I just got home. Blake’s reply is almost immediate. Who gave you a ride tonight? Nick, I respond. And you’re just now getting home? he asks. We hung out for a bit. We’re just friends, I type back. He doesn’t respond for a few minutes, and I frown. Blake shouldn’t care if I spend time with Nick. I mean, I know they don’t like each other, but it’s

not like Blake and I are a real couple or anything. My phone chimes with his next message. Send me a pic? I’m relieved that my time with Nick doesn’t seem to be an issue. I send, Of what? You. For your contact photo. I don’t have a camera, I reply back. You’ve got one on your phone. Just go to the menu. I sit up and play around with the phone for a few minutes. I manage to figure out how to take a photo of myself, and when I take one that I like, I send it to him. Got it, he sends back.

Send me one of you, I insist. His photo arrives a moment later, and I grin. He looks so hot, and his smile is a bit on the wicked side. It doesn’t take long for me to figure out how to turn it into his contact photo, and I take a photo of myself, blowing him a kiss. I press send, my mood bright and happy as I concentrate on the fun text messages we’re swapping. Blake’s next message is another photo. It’s of his bare, ripped abs. I laugh softly to myself, admiring the photo before I decide to have a little fun myself. I slip off my shirt, and after a few minutes of playing with angles, I send him a photo of my cleavage. My

bra is black lace and does fabulous things for my breasts. I’m very curious to see what he’ll send back. His next photo is of his lower body in tight, red briefs. I can tell he’s lying on his bed, and he’s sporting the beginnings of an erection. My lower body burns with the memory of what lies beneath the fabric. I promptly lie down on my bed, shimming out of my shorts. I use one hand to pull my panties down off my hip so that I’m just a smidgen shy of showing him my goods. Then I raise my other hand with the camera and take a few photos. When I find one that I like, I send it off with an amused grin. Just how far

is he going to take this little game? Much to my disappointment, his reply is a text message with no photo. Someone’s feeling naughty tonight. I’m always naughty, I send back. I bet. As much as I would like to take this further, I’m going to end this. Dream of me tonight. With a smile, I send, I’ll see you in yours. After I set the phone down, my eyes slide to the folded paper that Nick had given me. I carefully open it and stare. It’s of me, and he’s drawn me wearing a flowing nightgown, my arm raised, my hand open as I reach for something unknown since the paper is blank above my reaching hand.

My lips part, and I carefully run my nail over the drawing, tracing my arm and hand. What am I reaching for? Him? Or something else?

Twelve On Monday, Blake texts me that he’ll drive me to school. All the drama from Friday fades, and I find myself looking forward to the upcoming day. When his car pulls up at the corner, I hurry over and climb in. “Morning,” he greets with a lazy smile. I flash him a grin as I secure my seatbelt. He pulls away from the curb and says offhandedly, “I paid Camilla a visit yesterday.” The mood in the car instantly turns serious, and my eyes roam over his

handsome features. “How did that go?” He brings the Camaro to a slow stop at a stop sign. “About as I expected,” he states dryly. “You’re just going to make her madder, Blake.” He glances at me, his brown eyes unconcerned. “I don’t care.” “You can’t alienate your friends because of me.” Blake turns back to the road as the car moves forward again. “I’ll do what needs to be done. She can’t touch you now, I made certain of it.” “What did you do?” I ask warily, feeling bad that he’s doing this because of me.

“Nothing at this point. Like I said before, we grew up together, so I know every single skeleton she’s hiding in her closet.” I shake my head. “You might have Camilla right where you want her, but you can’t blackmail all of your friends. You need to stay out of it, Blake. I can take care of myself,” I insist. His eyes shift to me briefly, determination glinting in them. “I got you into this mess, remember? Do you really think I’m going to stand aside and let you deal with the fallout on your own? Not happening,” he says firmly. Nothing I say is going to make him change his mind, and I sigh with

resignation. When I peer out my window, I see that we’re almost to the school. “Drop me off up ahead.” “Why?” I look at him as I reach for my backpack at my feet. “Because I don’t want you further complicating your life. I don’t fit in with your friends, and your parents probably hate me. They also don’t need to hear that you’re spending time with me at school in front of Camilla. You’re just making unnecessary waves, Blake.” His hands tighten on the steering wheel as his lips flatten unhappily. “You think I care what they think?” “You should, this is your life.”

“And it fucking sucks,” he says with frustration. “Pull over,” I say softly. He curses under his breath and turns down a street that’s a block away from the school. He parks at the curb, his eyes shifting back to mine with a brooding look. I’m perfectly aware that I’m only in his life temporary, because I will never belong or fit into his world. Blake can’t trash his life over good sex, and that’s all I’ll ever be to him. I lean over and touch his arm. “Hey. Nothing’s changing between us. We can still see each other, let’s just not do it in public, that’s all.” A muscle works in his jaw as his

eyes hold mine. “I’m not ashamed to be seen with you, Fallon. You know I don’t care what they all think.” “But I care,” I tell him quietly. “You shouldn’t.” “I care because I care about you.” The second I say the words, an odd chill goes down my spine. I just put myself out there, and I know I’m beginning to fall for him, which is only going to earn me a broken heart. Blake’s expression softens. “Fallon, you’re the only thing in my life that makes sense these days.” He leans over and touches my cheek tenderly as his lips touch mine. His kiss is slow and sweet, and I kiss him back, enjoying the

taste of him and the feel of his firm lips against my own. Blake moves closer, his other hand reaching up to frame my face, and his tongue strokes mine in a way that has my heart melting even more. The kiss slowly ends when we reluctantly pull back to draw in some much needed air. “I should go,” I murmur. Blake drags a hand through his hair. “Today’s going to be a bitch of a day after what went down Friday.” “I can handle it.” “You work tomorrow?” I shake my head. “I’ll pick you up after practice. My dad has meetings, so he’ll be home later

than usual, and my mom is out of town for the next few days.” “Okay.” “Text me during the day, let me know how you’re doing,” he says seriously. I can’t help but laugh off his concern. “Blake, rumors and shit have always been a part of my life. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to deal with them.” He looks at me intently. “You never talk about yourself. That comment right there has me wondering what kind of life you led before coming here.” “There’s a reason why I don’t talk about myself, and it’s because I don’t want to,” I say lightly. Blake looks like he wants to say

something, but instead, he remains quiet. “I have to go, or I’m going to be late for first period.” “Alright.” “Later.” I climb out and give him a little wave as he pulls away. I walk the rest of the way to school and think about Blake. He’s such a good guy, and it’s sweet that he wants to protect me, but the people currently in his life will still be there when I’m not. He can’t destroy those relationships, not over me. School turns out to be just as I was expecting. People stare, snicker, and whisper about me. Crude things are said behind my back, and a few guys actually

approach me, looking for an easy hookup. I do my best to ignore everyone, and I tell myself that the school day will be over in no time, and then I can escape until tomorrow. Before gym class, I stop at my locker to put away my books, and I find Nick lounging against the door. “Hey,” I greet. He folds his arms over his chest and leans a shoulder against the nearest locker. His head tilts with curiosity. “Where do you disappear to during lunch?” I turn my attention on entering my locker combo into the lock, and the door pops open. “I hit up the library. You?” “There’s an old stairwell that is

rarely used, I hang there and do homework or draw. You can keep me company if you ever grow tired of the library,” he offers. “I’ll keep it in mind,” I say, not wanting to commit or look needy. I actually do most of my homework during lunch, and I have a feeling Nick would be too much of a distraction. I shove my backpack inside my locker and close the door. “You work tonight?” Nick asks. I turn and face him. “Yep.” “Want to hang afterwards?” “Sure. I’d better go, or I’m going to be late.” Nick pushes off from the locker he’d

been leaning against. “Later,” he says, and he strides off down the hall. I quickly head in the opposite direction, knowing that I’m cutting it real close if I want to make it on time. The gym and locker rooms are located on the other side of the building. When I rush through the locker room door, I find that most of my classmates have already changed, and they are entering the gym through the connecting door in the back of the locker room. I hurry towards the rows of lockers, and when I turn the corner in the back to go to mine, I find Camilla lounging on the center bench, patiently waiting as she files her long, painted nails. “Camilla,” I

greet dryly as I sigh inwardly. Another confrontation is the very last thing that I need today. Camilla looks up, her pretty face relaxed with boredom as she continues working on her nails. Her legs are crossed, her long, tanned legs shown off thanks to the short skirt she’s wearing. Not a strand of blonde hair is out of place, and she looks perfectly polished and almost regal-like with the way she’s perched on the bench. For a second, I feel like a frump in my shorts and tank. Then I decide that I shouldn’t be comparing myself to someone that I would never want to be like, so I push those thoughts aside and

fold my arms over my chest, waiting to see why she’s here. Camilla slips her nail file in her purse, and her pouty lips tilt up in the corners as she gazes at me condescendingly. “You don’t fit into his world.” “I’m well aware of that.” I probably shouldn’t turn my back on her after what had happened last time, but I really don’t want to be late. I turn and begin twirling the dial on my locker. “He’ll grow bored slummin’ it with you.” The door on my locker opens, and I pull out my gym clothes. “Then what are you worried about?” I ask.

“I’m not, but you should be.” Bored already with the conversation, I slip off my shirt and fold it before setting it in the locker. I wish she’d just go away. “I might not be able to do anything about your trashy existence in Blake’s life, but there are others that Blake can’t control. In fact, they control him,” she says pleasantly. Now I turn to look at her, my eyes narrowing. She gracefully rises to her feet, picking up her purse. “Enjoy your time with him, because if Blake’s parents decide to get involved, you’ll wish you’d never laid eyes on him.”

I’m perfectly aware that she’s speaking the truth, and I say nothing. She gives me a knowing smile. “Your time is almost up,” she muses. She then turns and saunters away, her shoes clicking on the tiled floor as she leaves. When she’s gone, I release a sigh and rub my temples. Blake will likely tire of me before his parents have a reason to worry over our relationship. I shove Camilla’s threats out of my mind as I turn and hurriedly change into my gym shorts.

~*~ After my shift at the store, Nick drives us out to the pond on his motorcycle. When the bike comes to a complete stop, I ease my leg over it and wait for Nick to climb off. “Are we swimming again?” I can’t resist teasing. He gives me a look as he stands and straightens his legs. “You put one toe in that water, and you and I are going to have a very unpleasant situation on our hands,” he warns. “Relax, it’s kind of chilly tonight,” I muse. We walk away from the motorcycle, leaving the headlight off since the moon is bright tonight. I follow Nick, and he

chooses a spot near the water, and we sit on the grass. There’s something about Nick that makes me feel content in his presence, and I draw my knees to my chest as I stare at the moon’s reflection across the surface of the pond. “It’s starting to cool down now that October is approaching,” Nick comments. “Ugh, don’t remind me. Someday, I’m going to live somewhere that has milder winters,” I say with longing. He looks at me, his eyes watchful. “Where do you see yourself after graduation?” “I want to go to college.” “Around here?”

“I don’t know. I take it you’re planning on staying in the area?” I ask with interest. “That’s the plan, but the idea of getting out of here permanently sounds appealing.” “I take it you and your dad aren’t close?” I ask cautiously. He draws a knee up to absently play with the torn threads around a hole in the fabric as he gazes at the water. “That’s one way of putting it.” “Where’s your mom?” “Dead.” “God, Nick, I am so sorry,” I say softly. He inclines his head in

acknowledgement, and then he peers at me. “Something happen to your parents?” I’d prefer to avoid talking about myself, but since I’d just asked him about his own parents, I can’t blame him for asking about mine. “I never knew my dad, and my mom is out of the picture,” I admit, keeping my reply short and straight to the point. “That her choice or yours?” “Hers.” “I see.” He’s probably hoping I’ll elaborate and share more details, but I’m not going to. He drops his knee and stretches out his long legs. “Why don’t you and your aunt get along?”

I start running my fingers through the grass beside me. “She didn’t have a good relationship with my mom,” I murmur. “Yet she’s letting you stay with her?” “She has her reasons.” “Will you tell me what they are?” he presses. “It’s not a big deal, Nick.” “I think there’s more than you’re telling me.” Feeling fidgety, I shift until I am sitting Indian style, and I pull two strands of grass out of the ground and begin tying them together into a knot. “There is, but it changes nothing,” I tell him.

Nick falls briefly silent, and then asks, “Are you safe there?” I look at him sharply. “What are you asking?” He levels me with a look. “You know what I’m asking.” “Do you really think I’d willingly stay with someone who knocks me around?” “Depends on if you had anywhere else to go.” I toss the grass knot aside. “It’s not like that, Nick.” “Do you have any other family?” I’m growing tired of his questions, and I decide to start asking some of my own. “No, you?”

“No. It’s just me and my old man.” We need to talk about something else, because we are touching upon topics that neither of us are very comfortable with. “How do you not have a girlfriend?” I ask with genuine curiosity. Nick laughs under his breath. “Where did that come from?” “Well, you’re pretty nice to look at. How come I never see any girls flirting with you at school?” “I’ve always been a bit of a loner at heart and not much of a socializer. I may not have a girlfriend, but that doesn’t mean the girls aren’t around. I just don’t mess with the ones at school.” This is getting interesting, and I

position myself so that I am facing him. “What kind of girls do you mess with?” He studies the water and says, “The kind that aren’t looking for anything.” “Where do you meet them?” “Parties. I used to do some stupid shit, but I’ve calmed down a lot this past year. Girls aren’t a high priority these days,” he says lightly. “Yet you seem to be putting in a lot of effort with me,” I tease. His head turns and he looks at me. “I’m not trying to get into your pants. Big difference between fuck buddies and friends.” “You may not be trying, but I know you want to,” I say, unable to help

myself. “I’d be blind if I didn’t.” “But yet you won’t,” I say with puzzlement. Nick’s quiet, and he doesn’t respond to my comment. “Is it because of Blake?” “Partly,” he says truthfully. Why does what I do with Blake matter? I frown and try to read his expression in the moonlight. “Blake and I aren’t serious,” I tell him. “Maybe I don’t want to be like the others.” “You just told me that you like girls that expect nothing in return. I’m that kind of girl,” I point out.

“I know,” he says softly. “And that’s a problem?” “With you, yes.” “You’re talking in riddles, Nick,” I grumble with frustration. “Then there’s no point in continuing the conversation,” he says simply. I stare at him, completely exasperated as I try to understand how his mind works. “So if I wasn’t sleeping with Blake, things would be different between us?” I ask, refusing to let the topic rest. Nick reaches up and scrubs his hands over his face. “Maybe,” he says reluctantly. “So what you’re saying is you want

an exclusive fuck buddy,” I say slowly. “Just let it go, Fallon.” “No,” I say stubbornly. “So if it weren’t for Blake, we’d be screwing?” His shoulders tense, and he draws his legs up, sitting Indian style as he rests his elbows on his knees. He stares out at the water. “No.” “No?” I echo with confusion. “No,” he says firmly. “What the fuck, Nick? You just said that things would be different right now if I wasn’t with Blake.” His head turns and he looks at me. “That doesn’t mean we’d be screwing.” “You are making no sense to me.” “That’s because everything comes

down to sex with you. You refuse to look beyond it.” Now I scowl. “What are you talking about?” “Fallon, this conversation is going in circles. Let’s just end it,” he says with a hint of exasperation. “But I’m not ready to end it,” I argue. “Well, I am.” “Ugh! You drive me nuts sometimes,” I exclaim. “Just imagine what you do to me,” he says dryly. “Ha-ha.” “Any problems at school today?” he asks, switching the subject. I shake my head.

“Then Blake took care of Camilla?” “As far as I know.” “What about the guys? They a problem?” he asks, watching me closely. “Nah, I can handle them.”

Thirteen I look down at the scrap of material that Blake has just handed me. “What is this?” He stands before me, and a wide grin stretches across his lips. “A bikini.” My eyes narrow on him suspiciously. “Camilla’s?” “No,” he laughs. “I bought it for you so we could go swimming.” Swimming? “It’s barely seventy today,” I protest. “The pool is heated, and there’s a hot tub out on the deck.” It’s Wednesday evening, and I am standing in Blake’s bedroom. We’ve just

arrived, and as soon as we’d stepped into his room, he’d tossed me the bikini. I scrutinize it as I hold it up. It’s a red halter with low-rise bottoms. I look at him inquiringly. “How did you know my size?” A hint of red creeps over Blake’s face. “You’re about the same size as Camilla.” His discomfort amuses me. “Where should I change? In your bathroom?” I ask, glancing at the connecting door that is located next to his closet. This earns me a lascivious look. “Right where you are is just fine by me.” “You have to work for it today,” I tease. I’m on my period, but there’s

plenty I can do to him that doesn’t involve actual sex. “Trust me, I’ll earn it,” he replies with a confident smile. He walks to the bed and picks up the swimming trunks he’d tossed on it a moment ago. “I’ll meet you down by the pool.” After he leaves, I quickly strip down and slip on the bikini. It fits perfectly. When I’m ready, I make my way downstairs and walk through the house to the back deck. Blake is already there, placing towels on the loungers beside the pool. I begin walking over, but Blake takes one look at me and launches himself in my direction, tackling me into the deep

end. The water is a complete shock to my system as it closes in over my head, and I automatically start struggling to swim upwards. Blake had released me so that he could surface, but I can’t seem to go anywhere. My arms and legs flail, my hair tangling around my face as I begin to panic. Blake’s arm slips around my waist, and I am effortlessly pulled to the surface. I begin to cough, and Blake supports me as I cling to him, his legs brushing mine as he keeps us afloat. “Easy. I’m just going to take us over to the side of the pool,” Blake murmurs calmly. With his help, we reach the edge, and I quickly grasp onto it. I cough one

more time, and now that I have something solid and stable to hold onto, my panic begins to fade. “You can’t swim?” Blake asks grimly. My eyes shift to his, and I see his face is white. I shake my head. His face falls, and he looks upset. “Why didn’t you say something?” “When? I never had the chance,” I remind. “Shit. I’m sorry, Fallon.” “It’s okay, I’m fine.” The color is coming back to his face, and he gives me a firm look. “Looks like the first thing on our agenda is teaching you how to swim.”

I arch an eyebrow, wanting to lighten the mood. “Oh, we have an agenda for this evening, do we?” He grins, the earlier tension fading. “Yes. Swimming lesson first, and then a mean game of water basketball. After that, I’m hoping for some fun in the hot tub,” he says as he wiggles his eyebrows playfully. I can’t help but laugh. “Confident much?” He moves closer to me, his hand brushing my waist beneath the water before sliding down my hip. “I’m very confident in my abilities when it comes to seduction,” he murmurs. His head lowers to mine, and he

kisses me. We’re both nearly naked, and I can’t resist reaching a hand out and running my fingers along his hard chest as his tongue teases mine. I could spend hours kissing Blake and never tire of the feel of his lips against mine or the taste of him in my mouth. Blake finally, and very reluctantly, pulls back. “Okay, time to get down to business. I want to play with you, not drown you,” he says, turning serious. For the next hour, he teaches me floating techniques. Eventually, I can manage to keep my head above the water, but only for a minute or so. When he’s satisfied I’ve learned enough for the day, we play a game of water basketball

in the shallow end of the pool. Blake and I tackle each other, and I laugh and shriek more than I ever have in my entire life as we fight for the ball. I can’t believe how happy he makes me feel. I’ve never been like this with anyone, and Blake brings out the kid in me—the one that never had a chance to play. It’s not long after the basketball game that we end up in the hot tub. Instead of making a move on me, Blake sits against the side, relaxing as he gazes at me. The hot water feels good, and I’m perfectly aware of the grin that’s been permanently etched on my lips since we’d started our game of basketball earlier.

Blake smiles. “You look pretty happy.” “I am.” “I like it when you smile.” “I seem to do that a lot when I’m around you.” He looks pleased, and I move closer to him. “You’ve shown me a good time this evening. I think you deserve a reward,” I murmur. Blake’s eyes turn hooded. “Do I now?” “Mmhmm.” I kneel between his legs and run my hands over his toned chest. The bubbling water swirls around my shoulders, and I give Blake my best sultry smile as I flick my nail over his right nipple.

“I should go grab a condom. I didn’t think to earlier,” Blake says with a groan. “No need, it’s a bad time of the month for me, but that doesn’t mean we still can’t have some fun.” “Whatever you want.” “I definitely want,” I say firmly. I tilt my head, bringing my lips up to his as I kiss him. He immediately opens, and my tongue sweeps into his mouth, taking control of the situation. Blake’s arms wrap around me, and he tugs at the back of my bikini top until it loosens and floats around my chest. I smile against his lips, because someone is most definitely ready to enjoy his reward.

Blake breaks the kiss and pulls back. He shifts and presses his hand against the center of my chest, urging me to lean back into the water. I decide to let him have his fun, and I recline back, causing my breasts to lift out of the water slightly. He tosses aside my bikini top and slips an arm beneath my back so that he can support my weight. The bubbling water feels sensuous along my nipples, and Blake immediately lowers his head, taking one of the tips into his mouth. He strokes it with his tongue, and I tighten my fists in his blond hair. As he skillfully toys with the bud, I moan as my hips rub against his hardness beneath his swimming trunks. My breasts have

always been sensitive, and I love having them played with. Blake’s fingers begin to roll my left nipple, and I’m gasping with how good he’s making me feel. I enjoy the sweet torture a little longer until I shift in his arms. “Enough,” I murmur. I press my lips to his, pushing my breasts against his chest so that his hands fall away. My lips devour his hungrily as my hands travel down to his waist, and I start pushing at his swimming trunks. “Let me,” Blake says against my mouth. I lift off him so that he can slide off his trunks, and soon they’re floating around us along with my bikini top.

Sweat has broken out across Blake’s forehead, and his expression is tense with anticipation. His hands settle on my hips as I straddle him once more, and I’m careful not to press myself too closely to him since I need enough room to jerk him off. The second my hand wraps around his velvety length, Blake drops his head back against the edge of the hot tub, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he hisses between his teeth. I smoothly begin to move my hand up and down, and I smile as Blake’s lips part, his breath hitching. I’m eager to watch him lose control, and I reach down with my other hand to play with his balls. Blake mutters something

under his breath, and he stretches his arms out across the back of the hot tub so that he can grip the edge, and he starts pumping his hips in time to my strokes. “I’m going to come from just watching you,” I murmur as mini waves surround us as his hips quicken. His head jerks upright, and his dark, heavy-lidded eyes hold mine until he lets out a hoarse shout and stiffens. Then he drops his head back, eyes closing as he draws in a few deep breaths until he goes completely still. After I release him, I move forward and lovingly press my lips against his neck. “I really enjoyed that,” I whisper. His arms close around me, and his

chest rumbles as he chuckles. “I think I enjoyed it more than you did. I feel selfish. I haven’t had the chance to turn the tables on you so that I can make you feel as good as you make me feel.” I press my nose against his neck, nuzzling him affectionately as he begins to rub my bare back. It feels good just to have him hold me. I’m happy with the simplest forms of affection, and I like to savor these small moments. “It’s okay. I kind of like being in control.” “I noticed.” “Is that okay?” I ask, suddenly uncertain. Some guys like an assertive girl, and other guys like to be the ones in control.

“Absolutely,” Blake assures. “It turns me on like you wouldn’t believe. I want my chance to play sometime too, though. So maybe when you’re in the mood, you can let me take the lead, hm?” he asks as his lips brush my temple. “Sure.” I don’t have to have control all of the time, but I definitely like it when my partner doesn’t mind. “Blake?” We both stiffen as a new voice cuts into our intimate conversation. Blake immediately tightens his arms around me so that my breasts stay pressed against his chest, and he peers over my shoulder. “Dad,” he says stiffly. Oh crap, this is embarrassing. I’ve

been caught in the act before with a guy, but usually it’s a pissed off soon-to-beex-girlfriend, or it’s someone that accidently stumbled across us. “Who’s your friend?” I hear his dad ask. Blake’s body tenses further. “Can you give us a little privacy?” he asks darkly. “Of course,” a smooth voice replies. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” The sound of the patio door sliding shut reaches my ears. “He’s not supposed to be home yet,” Blake bites out. He reaches with one hand to grab my bikini top that’s floating around near us. “Here, sink down further into the water, and I’ll grab our towels.” I work on slipping on the top, and

Blake hurriedly pulls on his swimming trunks before climbing out of the hot tub. He strides over to the towels and picks them up, his expression closed off, his lips flat. Once I am decent, I quickly climb out, and Blake wraps a fluffy towel around my wet body. He’s upset, and I reach out and touch his bare chest. I’m not accustomed to seeing him like this. I’ve learned that Blake has a naturally positive disposition, and it bothers me when someone causes him any kind of distress. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re not the first to be caught by an adult. I bet it happens a lot.” He gazes down at me with barely

veiled anger. “It’s not that. He had to have seen us from the windows first, and he made the choice to come out anyway. He did it to embarrass you.” “Because I’m not Camilla,” I state. “Let’s just get this over with,” Blake mutters. After running his hands through his damp hair, he begins escorting me across the deck to the glass doors. “I’m sorry, Fallon. I had no idea that he might come home early,” he says under his breath. “It’s not your fault. This isn’t a big deal,” I promise. Blake leads me inside, and a tall, well-dressed man in a business suit stands there. He is strikingly handsome

for his age, and his resemblance to his son is remarkable. “I didn’t know you’d be home early tonight,” Blake says in a stiff voice as he stares hard at his father. Brown eyes that are eerily similar to Blake’s wander over me before shifting to the protective arm that Blake has wrapped around me. “I thought we could have dinner at the country club since my meeting was cancelled,” his father says. “This is Fallon McAllister. Fallon, meet my dad, William Cavanaugh,” Blake politely introduces. Blake’s father steps forward, hand outstretched. “Miss McAllister,” he says with a polished smile.

I can read him easily, and the look in his eye tells me that he thinks I’m trash, and that his son is way too good for me. “Mr. Cavanaugh,” I murmur, politely shaking his hand. “I’m going to take Fallon home. I’ll be back shortly,” Blake announces. Before his father can respond, Blake grabs my hand, tugging me out of the kitchen and into the hallway. We both are silent as we go upstairs to change. When we come back down five minutes later, Blake escorts me straight to the garage, and then he proceeds to drive me home in silence. “See you tomorrow,” I murmur after he pulls up to the corner.

Blake looks at me, his expression softening. “Do you work tomorrow?” When I nod, he asks, “Can I pick you up?” “Sure.” He leans over for a short but sweet kiss. “I’ll see you then.” I climb out of the car and give him a quick wave. Once I’m inside my room, I lie down on the bed as my thoughts darken. I’d hated how Mr. Cavanaugh had looked at me. I’m tired of people looking at me like that, and I’m perfectly aware that it’s my own fault. I know I don’t belong in Blake’s world, and yet I can’t seem to walk away. Blake makes

me feel elated and happy when I’m with him, and a different side of myself comes out—one I hadn’t even known existed. It feels so good to be carefree with him, to not have anything to worry over when we’re together. It’s easy to forget the darker parts that still reside within me somewhere. Wanting to ease my moodiness, I pick up my phone, hoping for a distraction. I decide to text Nick. Hey, I send. Hey back, he responds a few seconds later. I smile and type, What are you doing? Not much at the moment. U? I’m texting you, I reply.

Smartass. I chuckle and send, I aim to please. How’s your evening going so far? I stare at his question, biting my lip. I don’t want to lie to him, but he already has issues with Blake, so it’s probably not a good idea to tell him about this evening. It’s fine, I send back. His response is almost immediate. Everything ok? How does he do that? It’s weird how easily he can read me. I type, Why wouldn’t it be? When you tell me you’re fine, you’re typically not. Okay, the way he can sense my mood is kind of disturbing. That’s why Blake

is such a breath of fresh air, because he doesn’t know about my past. When we’re together, the past has no place with us. It’s like it doesn’t exist, and I love that. Really, I’m fine, I send back. Ok. My eyebrows draw together, and I don’t know what to send back to him. As the minutes go by, he doesn’t send me any further text messages. With a soft sigh, I lie down on the bed and try to bring back my good mood from earlier. I’d had a lot of fun with Blake this evening. I close my eyes and envision his expression as I’d stroked him. Blake is ridiculously hot, and his body is

amazing. I wish we could have an afternoon to ourselves so I could explore him more and find out what really makes him go crazy. I’m aware that our relationship is based mostly on sex, but we’re also starting to become friends, and I like that. I’ve never experienced anything more than sex with anyone, so this is new, and I’m enjoying it. Once we eventually go our separate ways, maybe we’ll still stay in contact. That would be nice. I’m still thinking about Blake when I hear a tap on my window a short time later. I scramble upright, blinking as it sinks in that someone is at my window. I

stand and walk over to draw back the curtain, and I see a dark shadow. I know it’s not Blake since he’d just dropped me off earlier, so it must be Nick. I unlock the window and shove it open. My bedroom light shines upon Nick’s face, and I back up so that he can climb into my room. “What are you doing?” I ask. He straightens and turns to shut the window. “Seeing how ‘fine’ you really are,” he replies in a whisper. “My aunt is gone. I can’t believe you came over.” Nick faces me, his eyes locking on mine. “Want me to leave?” I shake my head. This is an

unexpected but nice surprise. Nick looks around the room until his attention pauses on the twin bed, and he motions towards it. “Mind?” “Go for it.” He sits down on the bed and looks at me expectantly as I stand before him. “Want to talk about it?” I gape at him and cross my arms over my chest defensively. “How can you think that something is wrong because I used the word ‘fine?’” His gray eyes hold mine. “You always have something on your mind. Haven’t you ever heard of the expression ‘The eyes are the windows to one’s soul?’ Well, your eyes say a lot

when you’re with me.” “You scare me,” I say bluntly. His intuition where I’m concerned is spot on, and it’s disconcerting. “I don’t mean to,” he says softly. I walk over and warily sit beside him, staring down at my bare feet as I stretch my legs out. “I think we’re similar in a lot of ways, and that makes it easier for me to understand you,” Nick says lightly. I scowl, not appreciating that he finds me so dang easy to read. “It’s not fair when it’s one-sided.” “It’s not. You just haven’t figured out how to read me yet, that’s all. I bet you could if you tried.”

“I’ve been trying to figure you out since the first time we met,” I grumble. “Then you’re doing it all wrong.” I shoot him a look. “If this is your way of trying to make me feel better, you suck at it.” His eyes sharpen. “Why would you need to feel better?” “Ugh.” I drop my head into my hands. I hadn’t meant to let that slip, and now Nick is going to pester me until I tell him what’s bothering me. “You know you can talk to me about anything.” I lift my head from my hands, peering at him. “Even Blake?” He looks at me steadily. “Even

Blake,” he confirms. I search his gaze, but he doesn’t seem upset. After a moment of deliberation, I confess, “I was with him today.” “I figured as much.” “His dad caught us in the hot tub,” I add. “I’m assuming you guys were doing more than just talking,” he states dryly. “His dad came outside, and Blake says he did it to embarrass me. I didn’t like the way he looked at me,” I confide as I pick at my nails so I don’t have to look at him. “I’ve been on the receiving end of that look plenty of times—the one where he looks at you like you’re a piece of

gum stuck on the bottom of his shoe.” My fingers still. “That’s it exactly.” “Fallon, he’s one person in a world full of billions. His opinion doesn’t count for jackshit.” I shake my head and rub a spot on my neck, still avoiding his gaze. “It’s not the first time someone has looked at me that way, Nick. It happens a lot.” “Then those people aren’t worth knowing. You can’t make everyone happy, Fallon. It isn’t possible. You also need to take into account that there’s many reasons why people turn their backs on others or try to make them feel inferior. There’s envy, greed, pure dislike, jealousy, peer pressure, the list

goes on. All that matters is how you feel about yourself.” “Everyone eventually leaves, Nick. There’s something about me…” my voice trails off. His hand reaches out and snags one of mine, gently squeezing it. “The only person standing in your way is you.” My eyes lift to his. “I don’t get it.” “I take it the first few guys you ever showed interest in were just looking for a good time?” he asks bluntly. I nod. “You came to expect it, right?” “Kind of.” His looks at me steadily. “So you began to take what you wanted, and then

walked away so you wouldn’t get hurt, correct?” I nod again. “Did you ever give them the chance to come back?” “Of course.” He looks at me deliberately. “Did you really, or did you give them the impression that you weren’t after anything more than just sex?” I frown. “But that’s all they wanted.” “You assumed,” he corrects gently. “Just like you thought I was only after sex. You walk away before anything can develop, Fallon.” I tug my hand out of his. “So you’re saying I’m sabotaging myself?” I ask

sarcastically. He says nothing as he lets it sink in. “That’s ridiculous.” He just watches me. His silence has me thinking back to how I’d treated Nick, and even Blake the night we’d had sex in his bedroom. I’d left immediately instead of sticking around. Blake had to track me down because I’d already written him off. All this time, I’ve just assumed that no one thinks I’m worth anything, and instead, it’s me who feels that way. I inhale sharply, a lump developing in my throat. Nick slips an arm around me. “You get it now?” he asks gently.

I mutely nod. “You need to start concentrating on yourself instead of worrying over what others think. You also need to stop expecting everyone to turn their backs on you. If you don’t give people a chance, they can’t take a chance on you, either.” “I don’t want to get hurt.” “Everything you do in life brings the chance of some type of pain. That’s life.” I stare down at my hands. “You want to tell me why you can’t open yourself up to people?” “I can’t,” I say lowly. “I don’t want to talk about it.” “That’s fine, but when you’re ready,

I’ll return the favor.” I look up at him. “What do you mean?” “It means when you let me in, I’ll let you in.”

Fourteen By the time I trudge out of work the following evening, my backpack seems heavier than usual, and I’m a little lightheaded. I catch sight of Blake walking down the sidewalk towards me, and his face brightens when he sees me. I walk over and smile. “Hi.” “Hey,” he says with a grin. “I parked down the block. Do you have time to hang tonight?” “Sure.” He slips an arm around me as we walk. I can’t resist leaning into him, and then I manage to stumble over my own feet. Blake quickly steadies me, drawing

me closer to his side as he frowns. “You okay?” I give him a wavering smile. “I’m feeling a little lightheaded.” He brings us to a halt on the sidewalk and looks at me closely. “When did this start?” “An hour ago.” “You eat anything on your break?” I shake my head and frown. I never eat at school, so that means my last meal was breakfast… No, I skipped that, too. “You hungry?” “Actually, I am.” We begin walking again, Blake’s arm wrapping around me once more. “We’ll go eat then.”

He leads me to his car and opens the door for me. I flash him a smile and slip into the seat. Soon he’s driving, and my stomach is silently rumbling pitifully. “When was the last time you ate?” Blake asks. I open my mouth to lie, but then I think better of it. My conversation with Nick last night has been on my mind all day. He thinks I need to open up more and allow people to get to know me— the real me. I know that Blake is trying to do exactly that, but I’ve been reluctant, because I don’t want the bad parts of my life to taint the good. “Fallon?” Blake asks. Maybe Nick is right, and I need to

start giving a little more of myself instead of just my body. I don’t want to delve too much into my past with Blake, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to tell him about my situation with Catherine. Blake’s hand touches my thigh, startling me. “Talk to me,” he urges. I moisten my lips and decide to try this whole ‘opening up’ thing that Nick had suggested. “The last time I ate was last night. I think.” Did I even eat an evening meal? I can’t recall. Blake’s hand reflexively tightens on my thigh. “Last night? You think? Why haven’t you eaten today?” This isn’t the place to have this kind of discussion, so I touch his hand, and he

immediately twines his fingers with mine. “Can we talk when we get to wherever we’re going?” I ask, wanting a short reprieve so that I can pull my thoughts together. He doesn’t press any further with his questions, and he takes me to his favorite diner. Once again, we end up in the back booth. Our waitress immediately takes our order when we tell her that we both already know what we want. She then moves on to another table, giving us privacy. I sip my water and notice Blake watching me with questions in his eyes. After setting my glass down, I release a wary sigh. He’s already confided to me

how he feels about his parents; it’s only fair to return the favor with a little honesty of my own. “I typically eat small meals, that’s what I’m used to. Since I’ve moved in with my aunt, I’ve been skipping meals sometimes,” I tell him. “Why?” he asks with puzzlement. My face heats. “I only eat when I have to so that I can save my money.” “I don’t understand why what you eat affects your paycheck. Doesn’t your aunt make dinner and stuff?” This was a bad idea, and I look down at the table, debating how to answer his question. The very last thing I want is Blake of all people to feel sorry for me. “Just how bad are things between you

and your aunt?” he asks. “Pretty bad,” I confess. “To the point that she doesn’t feed you?” His question has my head shooting up as I glare at him. “I don’t need to be fed. I’m almost eighteen.” He puts his hands up in the air, showing that he hadn’t meant to offend me. “Poor choice of words. You know what I mean,” he adds lightly. “I have a job, so I’m expected to pay for my own groceries. I also have to pay rent.” Blake frowns. “She’s making you pay to live there?” “Yes.”

“But you’re only working part-time, you can’t pay rent, groceries, and save at the same time.” “Exactly.” He sits back in his seat, his expression turning pensive. “So you’re telling me that in order to save for that car you want, you have to cut back on other necessities,” he states slowly. “Bingo.” His lips flatten. “Can’t she cut you a break or something?” I give him a look. “She is cutting me a break by allowing me to live with her. Otherwise, I would have nowhere else to go.” “Making you pay rent is a little harsh,

don’t you think?” “I’ll take it over being homeless, Blake.” “Where are your parents? Why are you living with your aunt? Shouldn’t they be supporting you until you’re at least of age?” His eyes stay fixed on me as he waits for me to answer his questions. I’d known this conversation would lead to them, and I’m hoping he won’t press for details. “I never knew my dad, and my mom isn’t around,” I state almost matter-of-factly. “So the only person you have to rely on is your aunt,” Blake realizes. Our meal arrives, and I am thankful that our conversation has been

interrupted. Blake, being the gentleman that he is, he eats his meal and allows me to enjoy my own instead of grilling me further. This time around, I dig in with enthusiasm as I demolish my burger and fries. From now on, I need to start keeping track of how often I eat. I can’t afford to collapse or get sick because I’m not keeping myself fed and hydrated. I grew up eating small meals, so my body is accustomed to only eating when necessary. I can go a day without food and not notice if I’m busy, but this time around, I’d gone too long. That can’t happen again. Blake pushes aside his plate and patiently waits for me to finish. Once

I’m done with my meal and reclined back in my seat, he looks at me with expectant determination. “Why are things so bad between you and your aunt?” he asks. I’d known he wouldn’t let it go, and I shift in my seat, getting comfortable. My stomach hurts because I ate too much, but it’s better than feeling sick from lack of food. “My mom and Catherine were never close,” I tell him. “I think it was more than just sibling rivalry, but to make a long story short, my mom slept with Catherine’s fiancé a long time ago.” “That’s brutal.” I nod in agreement. “I don’t blame her for being bitter.”

“So because she doesn’t like her sister, she doesn’t like you?” Blake questions. “Pretty much.” He shakes his head, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. “You haven’t done anything to her, though.” “I know.” His frown deepens. “If you need money—” “Don’t even think about it,” I snap, cutting him off. “Fallon, you have to eat,” he says levelly. “I know, and I don’t typically skip entire days. I woke up late this morning and didn’t have time to eat. I don’t take

money to school for lunch, and I leave directly from there to go to work.” His eyes narrow. “So you’re only eating two meals a day?” “Three when I can manage.” Blake looks extremely unhappy by this news, and I wonder just how sheltered he really is. Hasn’t he ever known anyone that has to struggle for everything that they have or want? I would think Blake would understand the concept of ‘just getting by’ if he’s seen Nick’s trailer and spent time around him. It’s plain to see that he doesn’t have much. “I didn’t tell you so you can feel sorry for me,” I say flatly.

“Why did you?” “I told you because you’ve been completely honest with me about… everything. Someone just recently told me that I have a tendency to push people away before they can get close, so this is me trying.” Blake is silent a moment. “Is that someone Nick?” I think I’m better off not answering that. Blake sighs, running a hand through his hair. “He’s not much of a talker, but when he does have something to say, it’s usually important. What you just said sounds like something he’d say. I wanted to call you out on a few things too, but I

didn’t want to scare you off,” he adds. “I can get a little defensive when I hear stuff I’d rather not listen to. Bad habit,” I say wryly. Blake nods with understanding. “I think it’s that way with anyone when it comes to shit no one wants to admit.” His eyes roam over my face, and his expression relaxes. “Thank you for sharing with me your situation with your aunt.” I clear my throat awkwardly, reaching for my glass of soda. “About that, can we not talk about it anymore? I like my time with you because you make me forget about all that other stuff. I’d much rather concentrate on us.”

“That’s fine,” he agrees. “Just don’t be skipping meals, and if I should happen to offer to take you out to eat, which I’ve done twice now before you told me about your situation, don’t bite my head off. Deal?” he asks with an unblinking stare, daring me to protest. “Deal,” I agree with a smile. “Are you coming to the game?” he asks, switching the topic. “Do you want me to?” Blake thinks it over. “I’ll probably be crowned king again, and that shit is such a pain. I think it’d lesson the torture if I knew you were there. I don’t suppose you’d consider being my date to the dance? I have to go if I’m on the

homecoming court,” he grumbles. I can’t help but snicker. It’s amusing to me that Blake’s dreading being crowned Homecoming King. “Poor you. It’s so tough being popular,” I mock. He plucks a leftover fry from my plate and flicks it at me. I giggle and swat at it before it can reach its destination—my face. “You couldn’t pay me enough to go to a school dance.” “So you’re going to leave me in Camilla’s clutches for an entire evening?” he asks, looking crestfallen. “Taking me to the dance would be like pouring gasoline on an open fire, so yes, you’ll have to deal with your ex for

a few hours.” Am I jealous? Maybe a little, but I know he has no interest in her, so that makes it easier to decline his invitation. I know Blake well enough to know that he’s going to be absolutely miserable that entire evening. “What about the game?” Blake asks hopefully. “You really want me there?” I ask as I study him. I know football isn’t all that important to him, so I haven’t made any real effort to go to a game. “Only if you want to come,” he says with feigned nonchalance that I see right through. “You don’t have to since you know football isn’t my life or anything, but if you have nothing going on…”

“I’ll think about it,” I tell him. He wants me there, but I’m not willing to commit just yet. “Adam’s throwing a huge party after the dance. You game for that? I have a stupid company banquet to attend with my family on Saturday, so that evening is already spoken for.” “I thought we weren’t going public,” I remind. He looks me straight in the eye. “I don’t really care what anyone thinks.” “What about your parents?” He doesn’t say anything. “Exactly. Why make things more difficult at this point if it’s not necessary?” I ask lightly.

~*~ I climb through my window a short time later and move through the dark to turn on the light. Then I walk over to the dresser and set my backpack down. That’s when I notice that the two drawings Nick had given me aren’t sitting where I’d left them. Immediately suspicious, I open the first dresser drawer, scanning my bras and panties. It looks like they’ve been rummaged through. Alarm suddenly sweeps over me, and I rush to the mattress on the bed and lift the corner, searching for the stash of cash that I’d hidden. It’s where I hide all my extra money.

I grab the wads of bills and quickly sit down on the bed, counting out every single one. I’m relieved to find that it’s all there, and I release a huge sigh of relief. As I neatly refold the bills, I think over how Catherine had been in my room, searching through my things. I’m grateful she’d just been nosy instead of after the money I’m saving, but I’m also deeply offended that she’d invaded my privacy. I’d better find a new hiding place, and I should also consider a doorstop since the door doesn’t have a lock on it. If Catherine ever tries to walk in on me, she’ll be pissed if she can’t enter the room, but I think I should be allowed the

comfort of assured privacy. I decide it’s not worth worrying over unless it happens. Now that I’m in need of a new hiding place, my eyes roam the room until I finally hide the cash between the dresser and the wall. There’s just enough of a crack to slip it through, and it shouldn’t be too noticeable if Catherine comes back to snoop. After I strip down and climb into bed for the night, I let my mind drift to Blake, and a smile curves my lips. It hadn’t been as bad as I’d thought it would be confiding in him, and I kind of like that he worries over me—it makes me feel cared for. The thing is, there’s a fine line

with Blake, and I have to be careful not to cross it. He’s a natural when it comes to wanting to solve other people’s problems, and I think if I’d allow him to, he’d probably start pushing money at me to make my life a little easier. I might be emotionally needy, but I’m not looking for someone to take care of me.

Fifteen On Friday, I manage to track down Nick between classes. His long-legged stride is no match for me, and I call his name, drawing a few curious looks my way. Nick glances back, and when he spies me among the crowd in the hall, he sidesteps out of traffic and waits for me to catch up. “Hey,” I greet breathlessly. “Everything okay?” he asks immediately, his eyes searching mine. “Why wouldn’t it be?” “You never track me down,” he points out. He’s right, I realize. I typically wait

for him to make the first move. I shrug, trying not to make my next comment much of a big deal. “So I’m switching things up.” His lips tilt upwards just a smidgen in the corners, but he doesn’t say anything. “Do you work tonight?” I ask, wanting to get down to business before the next bell rings. “No.” “Want to hit the game with me?” He blinks, completely caught off guard by my invitation. “You mean the homecoming game?” “That’s the one,” I confirm. “Am I just a stand-in until Blake is

done?” he asks as his eyes narrow. “What?” I frown. “No, of course not. I’ve never been to a football game before, and since I don’t have to work, I’d like to stay out of the house this evening. I don’t have any plans with him today or tomorrow,” I add, wanting him to know that I’m being sincere with the invite. “Isn’t he going to the dance?” he asks. Now I grin. “Probably since he’s certain he’ll be named Homecoming King again.” Nick frowns. “He didn’t ask you to go?” “He did, but I said no.” “Why?”

I roll my eyes. “Nosy much?” “Can’t blame me. Alright, I’ll go to the game with you. I’ll swing by and pick you up.”

~*~ Later that evening, I climb into Nick’s car and close the squeaky door. I buckle my seatbelt and peer at him with disappointment. “Why didn’t you bring the motorcycle?” He pulls away from the curb. “I’m not leaving my bike in a parking lot full of idiots that can’t drive worth shit. I worked my ass off to buy it, I’m not taking any chances.” “You leave it with the idiots during the day,” I point out. “That’s in daylight. Nighttime is a different.” I watch him as he drives, admiring his profile. He looks really good tonight

in jeans and a gray, long-sleeved shirt. I like how the color brings out the gray of his eyes. “I take it you usually don’t go to the games?” I ask. He slows down for a stop sign. “No.” “But you’re going because I asked.” He gives me a warning look. “Don’t let it go to your head.” I smile to myself. Nick pulls into the school parking lot a short time later. “I’m sure the lot by the field is full, so we’ll have to walk from here,” he explains. I scan the crowded parking lot. “Looks like this one is almost full, too.” We find a parking space and lock the car, and then we begin walking down the

sidewalk. The football field is located one block over and around the corner. The evening is a little on the cool side, and I’m glad that I’d decided to wear a sweatshirt tonight with my jeans. Nick tucks his hands in his front jeans pockets as he walks beside me. “You’ve never been to a high school game?” “No.” “What did you do when you weren’t in school?” he asks with interest. “I had a job waiting tables.” “What about friends?” “I didn’t have any.” Nick’s eyes slide to mine, and he watches me. “Why not?” I’m not ashamed of who I am. I might

be unhappy with some of the choices I’ve made in the past, but at least I’m trying to lead a better life than what I’d had with my mom. I meet Nick’s gaze unflinchingly. “I had a tendency to sleep with their crushes or their boyfriends.” Nick doesn’t say anything, but he also doesn’t look away from me. “I was the school slut,” I say bluntly. He reaches out and touches my arm, causing me to stop walking. “Hey, you know that’s just a load of bull, right?” Now I’m amused. “I was there, I would know.” “There are a lot of people our age that explore sex and enjoy it with others. The only thing that set you apart from

them is that people found out about it and put a label on you. Who you sleep with doesn’t define who you are, Fallon,” he says seriously. I look at him, momentarily impressed by the way he sees the world. “Are you secretly an adult posing as a teenager?” His dark eyebrows lift questioningly. I shake my head, slipping my arm through his. “You talk like you’re wise beyond your years.” We start walking again, arm in arm. “Some of us have no choice but to grow up faster than others,” he says. I silently agree with him. Now that we’ve turned the corner, the football field and bleachers come into

view, and the street is bumper to bumper with cars lining it. “Wow, that’s a lot of people,” I say, instantly growing uncomfortable at the sight of so many strangers all crammed into one place. We leave the sidewalk and start walking along the grass to enter through the front gate. “The stands on the left are ours, the other side is for our rivals,” Nick explains. There’s a line, and it dawns on me that we have to pay to attend the game. “I didn’t think to bring any cash,” I tell him as my face reddens. “I got it,” Nick says easily. He pays our way, and then he takes my hand and leads me through the mingling crowd

towards the stands. I peer at all the people, and now I’m extremely thankful that I hadn’t tried to come on my own. “Can we sit at the very top?” I ask hopefully. “I was going to drag you up there whether you wanted to sit there or not. I hate crowds,” Nick says under his breath. We make our way up the short set of stairs that leads to the stands, and then up the walkway to the very right. When we reach the top, we find a place to sit, and I see that the game is about to start as the rest of the empty seats begin to fill up. I spy Blake’s jersey number down below as he stands with his teammates.

Blake is naturally charismatic, and he definitely draws attention in his uniform. I turn my attention on Nick. “Can I ask you something?” “I’m sure you’re going to even if I say no,” he says with a hint of humor dancing in his gaze. “How close were you and Blake?” He goes still, and he centers all of his attention on me. “Why do you ask?” I shrug. “I’m just curious. You both were friends and now you’re not. Were you really good friends?” Nick seems to think over his answer before responding. “We became friends in middle school, and things fell apart our sophomore year.”

I’m disappointed when he doesn’t elaborate. “Were you friends with his friends?” I press, fishing for more information. “No. I never fit in with them, and they had no interest in hanging with me.” His eyes shift to where Blake and his teammates are jogging onto the field. “That’s the thing about Blake, he doesn’t care too much about what others think unless it’s his parents. We were friends regardless of what his friends thought.” “He’s a genuinely decent guy,” I murmur. “He is,” Nick agrees. “So why all the animosity between you two?” I ask. The polite thing to do

would be to let the subject rest, but I’m a naturally inquisitive person, so of course I want to pry. Nick and Blake are about as opposite as can be, but yet I sense that they’d been quite close. What could destroy a friendship so badly that they would avoid each other completely? “I wouldn’t exactly call it animosity.” “You guys got in a fight,” I remind. “Because he blindly put you in a shitty situation,” he says as his eyes harden. “He can’t control Camilla,” I argue back. “Blake is blinded by the fact that he likes to see genuine goodness in people. It’s his one fault. It takes a lot for him to

turn his back on anyone, and despite Camilla being a bitch, he’ll continue to give her the benefit of the doubt because he grew up with her.” “So something really bad happened between you two? Was it a girl? Was it Camilla?” I persist. Nick gives me a look that warns me I am treading on thin ice with the topic. “No, it was something I did that can’t be taken back,” he says in a flat voice. “Blake can’t forgive you?” That doesn’t sound like Blake. “Something like that.” “Would you fix it if you could?” His eyes shift as he watches Blake on the football field. “In a heartbeat.”

I figure I’d better let the subject rest or I risk upsetting Nick more than I already have. I turn back to the game and watch Blake. Soon, our team is winning, and the bleachers are buzzing with excited voices and cheering. During halftime, Blake is crowned Homecoming King, and Camilla is crowned queen. I’m amused more than anything as Camilla beams at the crowd while Blake looks like he’s being tortured. Nick and I stay until the game is over, and we follow the crowd towards the gate. We then veer off towards the sidewalk instead of heading for the field’s parking lot. I slip my hands inside my sweatshirt pockets as we walk, and

our shoulders brush every so often. “What are you doing tomorrow night?” I ask. “I work.” “How late?” “Nine or ten. You?” he asks, peering at me. “I have the night off. Want to go to a party or something?” He thinks it over and asks, “Who’s throwing the party?” “I don’t know. There’ll be one somewhere in the area.”

Sixteen “So is this what you had in mind?” “Not really,” I say with a laugh. Nick and I are perched on a patio deck railing, sitting side-by-side as our legs dangle. I’m sipping from a plastic cup as we watch people our age milling around the backyard, and a few of them I recognize from school. Loud music filters out into the yard from inside the house, and there are people sitting around a bonfire, drinking. I’d been hoping for something wilder tonight, but this will have to do. At least I am slowly developing a good buzz. Nick, on the other hand, is just sipping a

beer since he’s driving tonight. “Are you and Blake taking a break?” Nick asks from out of nowhere. His question surprises me, and I glance at him to see that he’s watching the bonfire. “What makes you ask that?” “This is the second night in a row that you’ve been with me instead of him.” “He has some banquet or something that he has to attend with his parents,” I explain. “Ah. They drag him to a lot of those. In that family, appearances are everything,” he mutters. I recall Blake mentioning that he has no one he can talk to. “Did he used to confide to you about them and stuff?”

Nick looks at me strangely. “He’s talked to you?” I nod and sip my drink, preferring not to offer up any details. Blake had trusted that I wouldn’t divulge what he’d shared, and I would never betray him. “He’s never going to be happy until he stands up to them,” Nick finally says. “Do you think he ever will?” “Someday, if he wants something bad enough, he will.” Across the yard, I watch as a girl climbs onto a guy’s lap and starts kissing him. “You said you were different a couple years back. What were you like?” “I was a troublemaker. I had other

friends besides Blake, but they weren’t really friends, just acquaintances that were bad influences.” “How so?” “It was easy for me to succumb to drugs and all that shit. It was Blake who rode my ass about trying to stay clean if I didn’t want to end up like my dad. When Blake walked out of my life, it was the wake-up call that I needed, and I really started taking a hard look at where I was heading if I didn’t pull myself together. I cleaned myself up and cut all the temptations out of my life. Now I do my own thing and concentrate on building my future.” I’m quiet as I think over what he’d

just revealed. Nick is so calm and intense; I can’t imagine him being anything else. I bet he was interesting in his wild days, but I really like the guy he’s turned into—the one that’s sitting next to me today. “This party is getting old,” Nick comments, letting me know that he’s bored and ready to leave. “My dad’s probably gone. We can hang at my place if you want,” he offers. I look down at my empty cup. “Let me snag another drink, and we’ll take off.” “You’ve had two.” “Two’s not enough.” Nick frowns. “Why do you want to get tanked?”

I roll my eyes at him. “What else is there to do?” “We’ll find something. C’mon.” He sets his beer on the railing and hops to the ground. I watch as he holds his arms out to me expectantly. After setting aside my glass, I ease off the railing. Nick’s warm hands immediately wrap around my waist, helping me to the ground. I’m too aware of his body, and I step back immediately so that his hands drop away from me. I really need a distraction so that I don’t throw myself at him. “One more drink and we’ll go,” I tell him. “I’ll give you something to drink at

my place.” Nick’s never offered me anything in the form of alcohol before. “Like what?” I ask suspiciously. He hesitates. His hesitation confirms that he has nothing to offer—at least nothing alcohol related, and I shake my head. “One drink,” I repeat firmly. Before he can protest, I turn and hurry back towards the house. My one drink turns into two shots before Nick drags me out of the house. He’d driven the car tonight, and I sink comfortably into the passenger seat as he pulls away from the curb. “You’re no fun,” I tell him sullenly as

I stare out my window. “Thanks,” he replies dryly. “It wouldn’t hurt to just let go for one night.” “I can’t when I’m with you.” I peer at him in the darkened interior of the car. “Why not?” “Someone needs to watch out for you.” “What do you think is going to happen if you’re not there?” I muse. “I don’t want you doing something you might regret.” “It’s just a party, what…oh. Scared I might revert back to my slutty ways?” He looks at me sharply. “That is not what I said,” he says levelly.

“You didn’t have to say it.” I shrug. “It’s fine. We both know I’m fine with screwing whoever’s available.” He releases a sigh and mutters something under his breath. “I’m not going there with you tonight. Not when you’re drunk.” “I’m not drunk,” I say with exasperation. “You will be soon with as much as you drank.” “Nick, you’re killing my buzz.” “And that’s bad?” “Shut up.” Nick deliberately turns on the radio, and we both are silent until he pulls up to the trailer. The only vehicle parked

outside is his motorcycle, so we go inside. The second we enter his bedroom, I flop down onto his bed, studying him. He’s so frickin’ hot. I wish he’d quit keeping me at arm’s length so we could enjoy each other. Nick snags a pack of cigarettes off his dresser, and he catches sight of my expression as he sits down near me. “What?” I prop my head on my hand, eyes boldly curious. “When’s the last time you had sex?” His eyebrows lift, but he answers anyway. “A couple months ago. Why?” “You’re really sexy, but I’m betting you already know that.”

He studies me. “You think so, huh?” I sit up and move closer to him, smiling provocatively. “I think about you, you know.” Nick is silent, a cigarette and lighter in his hand, his eyes on me. “I wonder what it would be like,” I murmur. He looks away. “We can’t, Fallon.” I’m getting the vibe that he’s trying to resist the temptation, and I pluck the lighter and cigarette out of his hand, tossing them aside as I climb onto his lap, straddling him. He stiffens, and I slip my arms over his broad shoulders, my eyes meeting his. “Blake and I are casual. You know that,” I say softly.

Nick draws in a deep breath before exhaling, and he gazes at me with regret mixed with longing. “I don’t want that with you.” I run my hand down his hard chest, taunting him as I gaze at him encouragingly. “We can still be friends.” I lean closer, my lips hovering inches from his. “Just give me a chance to show you how good it could be,” I whisper before I kiss him. He goes completely still beneath me, and I nip at his lower lip, urging him to have a little fun. When he still doesn’t respond, I run my tongue along the seam of his lips, trying to provoke him. He suddenly catches my lower lip between

his teeth, and he bites me. It doesn’t hurt. Instead, it excites me. “Again,” I demand, my hands lifting to clutch the back of his head, refusing to let him put a stop to what we’re starting. Nick bites my lip again, harder this time, and I go damp between my legs. “You like that?” he breathes in a rough voice, coming alive beneath me. I sink my fingers into his dark hair, and I tighten my grip. “More.” “You’re not in charge, Candy Girl.” Then he swiftly rises to his feet, his arms tightening around me briefly before he adjusts his grip and tosses me onto his bed. A startled yelp escapes me as I

bounce once on the mattress and still. I stare up at him, taking in his predatory gaze. Oh shit. I’ve never been with anyone that’s ever had that look before. There’s sex, and then there’s fucking. Going by his expression, Nick likes to fuck—probably roughly too, and I’m more than interested in exploring that aspect of sex with him. I think it’s because I can relate to him, so I trust him. We both have been through so much, and I understand his need for control. “We’ll see,” I murmur in reference to his comment, knowing that I’ve just challenged him. I probably shouldn’t tweak the tigers tail, so to speak, but

when have I ever been cautious over anything? Nick’s eyes darken further, and he reaches down and strips off his shirt, tossing it aside. My eyes run over him, taking in the finely sculpted muscles of his chest. Whereas Blake is broader and muscular, Nick is slightly leaner, but just as impressive. I’m not given much of a chance to admire him, because he’s on the bed in an instant. I try to sit up, but he pushes his body on top of mine, his mouth capturing my lips. I try to buck him off so that I can top him, knowing that he’s enjoying our little battle, and he growls. His knee slides up between my legs and

presses against my center. I go still, knowing it’s a tactic to divert my attention, but I don’t care. I spread my legs further and arch my back as I begin rubbing myself against him. We’re both wearing jeans, but it still feels damn good. “You’re a little firecracker, aren’t you,” Nick mutters against my lips. He slips his hand between us, pulling my shirt up and past my ribs. “Arms up,” he orders. Then to guarantee that I do as requests, he presses his knee more firmly against me. My heart is thrumming inside my chest, and I’m so turned on that I don’t care anymore who wins this battle. I lift

my arms, and he pulls my shirt up over my breasts, past my shoulders, and over my head. My bra soon joins the shirt on the floor, and Nick deliberately places my wrists above my head, his right hand holding them in place. In this position, my full breasts are jutting out, and my nipples are distended and tingling. His eyes shift to them, and I can tell that he likes what he sees. “Nice, really nice. How sensitive are they?” “Very,” I say huskily. He straddles my hips and reaches out, flicking one of the buds with his finger, causing my back to arch. Then he gently pinches it, and I groan as his eyes watch me attentively. “Too much?” he asks.

I shake my head. The slow grin that forms on his lips has my lower belly tightening. Then his lips are on mine as he settles on top of me, his left hand twisting and tugging on my nipple. The more I moan, the more pressure he applies. When his lips leave mine to trail down my neck, I close my eyes and push my breasts out, wanting his mouth on them. His mouth covers my right nipple, and he bites it. I let out a startled cry as a zing of pleasure shoots down to my groin. “Tell me what you’re feeling so that I don’t hurt you,” he says in a thick voice. “More,” I say breathlessly. He bites me again, and his left hand

pinches the other one as his right hand continues to hold my wrists in place. I’m moaning loudly now, writhing beneath him. His left leaves my breast and moves down my body and tugs on the button of my jeans. The zipper is pulled down, and he shoves my jeans and panties halfway down my hips. His mouth begins to suck hard on my nipple as he slides a finger inside me. I gasp at his penetration and part my legs the best that I can. When he adds a second finger, I helplessly begin to undulate. My eyes close as I enjoy what he’s doing to me. He begins to pull his fingers out, causing me to whimper, and then he buries them deep before pulling

out again. He plunges his fingers over and over, and I cry out, begging for more. The only sound in his room are my cries and the sounds of his fingers slamming into my wetness. He’s putting a little more force behind his thrusts now, but my hips are more than willing to meet him halfway. I’m vaguely aware that he’s no longer sucking on my nipple, and I open my eyes to find him watching me, his lips flattened, eyes dark with lust. My lips part, because what he’s doing to me is hot as hell. He hovers over me, and his fingers curl inside me as he shortens his thrusts. My eyes widen as he manipulates my G-spot. Then I arch my

back, and I let out a throaty scream as I fly over the edge and explode with pleasure. His fingers stay inside me as my inner muscles spasm, and I slowly sink into the mattress, going limp. Nick’s fingers gently slide out of me. With closed eyes, I struggle to draw air into my lungs. That was… It was… I lie there and enjoy the aftermath of a really good orgasm. I wet my lips and open my eyes, meeting Nick’s heated gaze. “You got a condom?” I ask huskily. Nick blinks and abruptly eases off of me, his expression darkening. “Shit. We can’t do this.” He rises to his feet and exhales loudly as he runs his hands through his hair.

I stare at him with dismay. “Of course we can.” He drops his hands to give me a long, hard look. “You and I want two completely different things.” “Nick, look at me. I am mostly naked and ready for you. The only thing you need to think about is what is happening now, not what will happen later. It’s just sex.” Something flashes in his gaze. “Exactly,” he says grimly. Unfortunately, the mood has been ruined, and I can tell by Nick’s expression that I can’t talk him into it. I reach for my panties and jeans, pulling them up and fastening the button. “I don’t

understand,” I say with a frown. “That’s the problem, Fallon.” A flash of light coming from the window interrupts us, and we realize it’s headlights. Nick quickly walks to his window and pulls back a few of the blinds to peer outside. His bare shoulders stiffen, and I get a clear look at the tattoo on his back. I’d thought I’d glimpsed something on his shoulders the night I’d tricked him into going in the pond, but I hadn’t been sure, so I’d never asked. Now I see that he has the name Amber tattooed in gothic script across his tanned, broad shoulders. I’m instantly jealous that he has another girl’s name permanently inked on his

body, which means whoever Amber is, she means something to him. Nick turns around, his expression grim, eyes alert. He quickly grabs my bra and shirt off the floor and flings them at me. “Get your clothes on. I need to get you out of here.” I frown at his tone, and we hear a car door slam outside. “Now Fallon!” he snaps when I don’t move. I’m stunned and more than a little hurt over his abruptness. “Move!” Nick growls at me. He grabs his shirt off of the floor, yanking it on before he pulls the blinds up and opens the window.

It’s sinking in that Nick is upset and anxious. If Nick is acting the way he is, there’s a reason—probably not a good one. I quickly dress, and I’m just yanking my shirt over the waistband of my jeans when we hear the outer trailer door open. “You home boy?” a slurred voice calls out. Nick bends down and grabs my shoes, and he hurries to the window and tosses them outside. “Hurry,” he orders, reaching for me. Alcohol has dulled my mind, but I still see the urgency on his face, so I rush over, nearly stumbling in my haste. His arms wrap around me, and he lifts me up

into the window, steadying me when I wobble. I clutch the sides of the window, hesitating. “Don’t break your neck,” he orders. Then he gives me a shove as someone pounds on his bedroom door. A loud squeak escapes me as I drop out of the window and fall onto my hands and knees. I’m struggling to right myself when Nick drops down beside me, and he bends down and yanks me to my feet, my shoes in his free hand. He jogs me over to his car and quickly deposits me in the passenger seat. He then practically flings himself in the driver’s side and starts the car. We’re just pulling away from the trailer when

the door opens, and a man stands in the doorway, his fist raised angrily. A heavy silence fills the interior of the car as Nick turns onto the road, and the trailer and angry man is left behind. “Nick?” I ask tentatively. “Don’t. Put your seatbelt on,” he says curtly. Even with alcohol clouding my mind, I know that it’s time to keep my mouth shut, and I reach for the seatbelt and slip it on. I’m worried about Nick, and I’m aware that with as fast as he’d ushered me out of the trailer—through the window no less—it can only mean his dad is bad news. When Nick pulls up to the corner near

Catherine’s house, he stares straight ahead, refusing to look at me. He’s upset, and I know that I’d pushed him too far tonight. I messed up. Badly. Without a word, I open my door, climb out, and rush off towards the house.

~*~ My actions last night weigh heavily on my mind the next day. It’s Sunday, and since I don’t work, I have nothing to distract myself from my humiliation. I’d thrown myself at Nick, and for a short time, it had been really, really good. That is until he’d put a stop to things. A chime comes from my phone that I’d tossed carelessly onto the bed earlier. A bit reluctantly, I sit down and pick it up, expecting it to be Nick. He’s sent me multiple text messages this morning telling me that he wants to talk about last night. I haven’t been able to bring myself to answer a single one. I just don’t know what to say. Nick has

been adamant about just being friends and not crossing that line, yet I’d pushed myself on him that night at the pond, and once again last night. He doesn’t want me that way, and it hurts. Unable to help myself, I glance at the new text. It’s from Blake. U busy? My mood immediately brightens. No, I send back. I’m at the corner, he replies. I have to re-read his message before it sinks in, and I scramble to my feet and hurry to the window. Sure enough, Blake’s Camaro is parked at the curb. Anticipation builds within me as I quickly slip my feet into a pair of sneakers and climb out my window,

careful to be as quiet as possible. Catherine is home and still sleeping in her bedroom. I dart across the yard and walk down the sidewalk to the corner. The second I climb into the car, Blake pulls away from the curb as I secure my seatbelt. He’s oddly silent, and I look at him with a frown. “Is everything okay?” “Yeah.” I don’t believe him. Blake drives us to the empty lot by the football field and parks the car. “What are we doing?” He turns to face me, and his dark eyes turn tentative. “Talking.” “Okay,” I say warily. He looks

serious, so I brace myself for whatever is on his mind. “I know we’re casual, so I don’t know if I have the right to ask this.” “Ask away.” He watches me closely. “You were with Nick at the game, and I heard that you two were out again last night. Are you two hooking up?” I’m not sure how to answer that, but I know that I need to be honest with him. “We messed around,” I say cautiously. His head turns and he stares straight ahead, his expression unreadable. “I see.” Alarm stirs within me, and I begin to worry. We had both agreed that we

weren’t serious or anything, so I’d naturally assumed that I was free to mess around with others. “Are you mad?” His eyes shift back to me. “No, but I am jealous,” he says honestly. “If it makes you feel any better, Nick put a halt to things. He…it wasn’t what he wanted. He’s insisting on being my friend and only my friend.” He simply studies me, and I can tell he’s caught up in his own thoughts. “Blake, what happened between you two?” I ask, switching the topic to their friendship. Both of them are goodhearted and quite loyal. What could have possibly caused Blake to turn on Nick? It might

be wishful thinking on my part, but if I could just find out what happened, maybe there’s a way to fix it. Life would be so much easier if they could patch things up, and I would love to be able to hang with them at the same time. Not that I’m only thinking of myself, it’s just that I know they both could use a friend right now. Nick needs more than just our… friendship. He could really use a close guy friend, and Blake needs someone he can trust, someone who sees him for who he is, not what he has. “That’s something that Nick should share with you, not me,” Blake says, breaking the heavy silence. “But if it involves you…”

“It’s something he did, Fallon.” I look at him searchingly. “Something you can’t forgive?” Something twists in his gaze. “It’s not a matter of forgiveness. It’s more along the lines that I can’t…wrap my head around it. I’m not ready to.” “I’m making it worse, aren’t I?” I ask in a troubled voice. He shakes his head, his eyes softening. “No, it doesn’t involve you,” he assures. “But you guys got into a fight, and that was because of me. I’m not helping the situation.” “Fallon, you’re not making anything worse. I promise.”

“Was it over a girl?” I press, unable to give up on the conversation. “No.” “Can I somehow help fix it?” “No,” he says firmly. “Blake, can you give me something at least?” I plead. His eyes fix on me. “No offense, but you don’t need to know. It doesn’t involve you,” he reminds lightly. I look at him sadly. “I care about you both; it just frustrates me that your friendship doesn’t seem to be salvageable.” His lips immediately pull up into a warm smile. “I care about you, too.” “Can I at least ask one more thing?” I

ask carefully. “Is there a possibility that I might get dragged into whatever happened between you two since I spend time with you both?” Blake’s quiet, and he seems to think over what I’d asked. “I don’t know.” So it could affect me after all. “Maybe I can help in some way.” He shakes his head. “You can’t, Fallon.” “Does anyone else know?” “No.” “Wouldn’t you feel better talking to someone then?” I coax, and I know I’m being pushy, but I want to give it one last try before I give up. He releases and audible sigh. “I

can’t, Fallon. It might change the way you look at him. I don’t want to hurt him more than I already have, and it’s pretty clear he likes you. A lot.” “Nothing’s going to change how I feel about him,” I vow. “He’s my friend, Blake. I won’t walk away from him unless he walks away first.” Blake’s eyes search mine. “What about us?” I draw in a deep breath and say, “You’d have to walk away first, too.” He reaches for my hand, his eyes brightening at my declaration before they dim with regret. “I want to talk to you about him, but I’m worried it might mess things up.”

“Between us?” “No, for you and him. Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than happy to throw a wrench into any future plans of you messing around with him, but I don’t want anything to damage your friendship,” he grudgingly explains. The fact that he’s even concerned about my friendship with Nick tells me that Blake still cares about him. “I already told you, it won’t change anything,” I insist. “It might,” he warns. “If it’s something that Nick is worried I’m going to find out, let’s just get the awkwardness out of the way so the three of us can move on,” I suggest.

Blake sighs and rubs his forehead, looking torn. “I want to tell you, but it has to come from him. He might see it as a betrayal on my end.” “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have tried pressuring you,” I apologize, squeezing his hand to let him know that I’m being sincere. “I just get the impression that you both wish the situation was different, and I want to try to fix it for you.” I give him a look. “I know I can’t, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to try.” “It’s okay. I really do want to tell you, but out of respect for Nick, I’m going to tell you that it’s best you take your questions to him.”

“I understand.” His brown eyes peer into mine intently. “Can I ask you something, Fallon?” “Of course.” “Does the idea of commitment scare you?” I’m caught off guard by his question, and I think about it for a moment. “I don’t know. I’ve never considered it before.” Blake is silent, clearly lost in thought. “Why?” I ask. “Just curious.” He straightens in his seat and starts the car. “Let’s go grab something to eat, I’m hungry.”

Seventeen On Monday, Nick’s waiting for me at my locker when I arrive at school. I’d known that he would likely track me down, but I’m still embarrassed over how I’d tried to seduce him on Saturday. My face warms, and I find myself hesitating in the middle of the hall. What if he’s going to tell me that he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore? Nick’s slate eyes lock on mine, and they narrow when he sees that I’m considering turning around to avoid him. The look he gives me warns that he’s going to be seriously pissed if I do. I draw together my tattered pride and

walk over to him. “We need to talk,” he says bluntly. I nod in agreement. “You work?” “Yes.” “Me too. Wait for me if I’m running behind?” he asks questioningly. “I will.” He looks like he wants to say more, but he changes his mind. “I’ll see you tonight.” Without saying anything more, he straightens and walks away. I stare after him, feeling uneasy about our ‘talk’ tonight. There’s a lot about him that’s a mystery, and I’m hoping we’ll still remain friends so that I have a chance to get to know him better. I blow

out a sigh and turn to open my locker. If I’m going to keep him in my life, I need to stop reverting back to my old ways. I’m used to sex when I’m around guys, and it’s hard to be around Nick— someone I am extremely attracted to— and stay platonic. Nick can think what he wants about my past and claim that I was never a slut, but the truth is, I slept with anyone that was willing. Things are strangely different here. With Nick and Blake in my life, I’m not as desperate or as needy. Nick is slowly teaching me that relationships don’t have to revolve around sex, and Blake is showing me how to let go and simply enjoy life. My time with him is

spent focusing on the present or the future, not my past. After I switch out books in my locker, I head to class. The day seems to fly by, and so does my shift at the candy store. Before I know it, Nick and I are at the pond, sitting close as we gaze out at the water. He’d left the headlight on, and the night is cool and slightly breezy, but his body heat beside me is enough to ward off the chill. “I didn’t mean to hurt you the other night,” Nick says in a heavy voice as he starts the conversation. I wrap my arms around myself and gaze out at the water. “You didn’t,” I lie. “Bull,” he says softly, and I can sense

his eyes on me now. “Look, I was harsher than I intended, but I really wanted you out of there before he could see you.” My attention turns back to him, and I try to read his expression, but the headlight only shines on half his face. “Why?” “All you need to know is that he’s a bad man, and it’s best if you never meet him.” “Okay,” I say quietly, not wanting to pry. “Um, I’m sorry about kinda jumping you. Between the alcohol and my attraction to you, it was kind of hard to resist.” I hurriedly continue, “I get that you don’t want me the way I want you,

and I’ll work harder on controlling myself.” “Fallon, I want you just as much as you want me,” he says calmly. “The reason I put a stop to things is because I don’t want you that way.” “What do you mean?” He looks out over the pond once more. “When I look at you, I don’t see casual sex. I see more, and I want more.” My eyes widen over what he’s just revealed. Nick looks at me, catching sight of my expression. “Do you understand now why we can’t? You’re with Blake, and you can’t have anything more with me if

you’re sleeping with him. I don’t want to just be someone to screw, Fallon.” I’m still staring, and I blink as his words sink in. He wants more? Like more-more? Nick continues talking, and I listen attentively as he speaks. “I think Blake really likes you, and I don’t want to come between that. I think friendship is about the only thing that makes sense at this point. That’s all we can be to each other.” “Wait, I’m still stuck on ‘more.’ What do you mean by more?” His eyes hold mine. “I want to be your friend, your boyfriend, the guy that you want to spend your time with.”

“Boyfriend…” I echo, testing the word out loud. His lips quirks. “Is it that hard for you to believe?” “Are you forgetting who you’re talking to?” I manage to ask. “Right.” He sobers. “Fallon, you deserve so much more. I wish you could see that.” He’s offering me everything I’ve ever wanted. He actually cares about me. “What if I want that too?” I dare to ask. “Do you want it bad enough to quit seeing Blake?” he asks deliberately. My chest automatically tightens with alarm. End things with Blake? I ache just at the thought.

Nick gives me a look of disappointment. “That’s what I figured.” I swallow the lump in my throat, wishing I could somehow find a way to have Nick in the way that I want so badly without having to give up Blake. “What happened between you two?” I ask, thinking of the conversation I’d had with Blake yesterday. My question has him looking at me sharply. “Did Blake mention something to you?” I quickly shake my head. “I can tell by the way he talks about you that you two were once close. You also just said that you didn’t want to come between me and Blake. I think you guys still care

about each other.” Nick doesn’t deny it. “What happened? Why can’t it be fixed?” He scrubs his hands over his face, avoiding my gaze. “I don’t want you to look at me differently. It ruined my friendship with him, and it might change your opinion of me.” “Why would I see you in a different way?” “Because Blake looks at me differently now,” he states grimly. I reach out and touch his arm, urging him to look at me. “No matter what you did, I won’t look at you in any other way than I am right now. I promise, Nick.”

He looks at me, his lips twisting. “You should probably know anyway. That way it’ll kill all that sexual attraction you feel for me.” “Nick, what in the world are you talking about?” “I kissed Blake,” he announces flatly. I stare at him, letting it sink in. “You kissed him?” I ask slowly, wanting to make certain that I’d heard him correctly. “We’d been drinking and…I couldn’t resist. Blake freaked and bolted. We haven’t talked since,” Nick says, refusing to look at me as he stares straight ahead. “So…you’re into guys and girls?” I

ask, trying to wrap my head around this news. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I’m very much into girls, and I haven’t felt any attraction to any other guys except for Blake.” “Did you like it when you kissed him?” He clears his throat awkwardly. “Yes.” I think over what he’s just told me, and I find that it doesn’t bother me. “So you’re bi-curious,” I murmur. Nick’s eyes swing back to me. “You’re not bothered that I kissed a guy and liked it?” “No,” I say firmly as I hold his gaze.

He studies me. “You’re really not, are you?” I shake my head. “I’m pretty open when it comes to sex, you’ve probably figured that out by now.” “Have you ever thought about experimenting?” “Not really. Does it mean I won’t ever? No. I suppose it would depend on the situation.” I flash him a grin. “And Nick, I’d still screw you in a heartbeat; you’re still as attractive to me as you were before I knew.” The smile that curves his lips is one of relief. “Good to know.” He turns serious. “Besides Blake, you’re the only other person I’ve told.”

“Have you felt an attraction to any guys since you kissed him?” I ask with interest. “No. I think it has to do with how close we were.” “Did Blake kiss you back?” “He did at first, and then he pushed me away and left, walking out of my life permanently,” he says, his voice full of regret. I wonder if Blake might possibly be attracted to Nick too, only it scares him, and he can’t handle the idea of it. “I should have known the kiss wouldn’t faze you,” Nick comments. “Not at all,” I confirm. “It just makes me want you all the

more,” he confesses. I squeeze his arm. “We can, you know. Nick, I like you both, very much. I can give you everything you want without Blake coming between us. You both are important to me in different ways.” “You can’t commit to me if you’re seeing him.” “But why does what I do with him matter? It doesn’t affect our time together,” I point out. “We can continue on as we are, except things will be different because we’ll be having sex, too.” He shakes his head. “I can’t share you like that.”

There’s nothing more I can say that’ll change his mind. I know it’s probably selfish to want them both, but I can’t help how I feel. “We’re better off as friends,” Nick says with a hint of finality in his tone. “How am I supposed to ignore that you want me?” “The same way I’m going to ignore that you want me back.”

~*~ My conversation with Nick is still rolling around in my head the following morning. I want everything he wants, but I don’t want to give up Blake for it. I know I am being completely selfish by wanting them both, but in reality, that’s exactly what we’ve been doing anyway. I’ve been dividing my time between them, and the other has still known about it. I mean, what about the cheaters that cheat on their girlfriends or wives? They’re carrying on two relationships at once, can’t I do the same except without the deceit? Since Blake and Nick would know about each other, it wouldn’t

technically be cheating. I just can’t imagine cutting one of them out of my life so I can be with the other. After my first class of the day, I find Blake waiting for me at my locker, and I come up short. What is he doing? What does he have to say that he couldn’t have said earlier in his car? We both had agreed that we wouldn’t go public with our relationship. I look around the busy hall and tentatively walk over. “What are you doing?” I ask, keeping my voice low so that no one can overhear our conversation. His body language is calm, and he doesn’t seem to care that we are

drawing unwanted attention from the other students. “I don’t want to hide how I feel about you.” I feel my face go slack, and I quickly snap my mouth shut, giving him a look. “Isn’t this something that should have been discussed on the way to school?” “Here is fine,” he says simply. “Blake, your parents…” “Don’t you get it?” he cuts in as his eye flare with emotion. “I don’t care anymore. I’m not ashamed to be seen with you, Fallon. I want you in my life, and I’m sick of hiding and sneaking around. Let’s not deny what is developing between us. I want you to be mine.”

My heart should be bursting with happiness over his confession, but instead, a hint of dread is unfurling in my stomach. Blake wants what Nick wants: me. Things are changing, and I don’t know what to do about it. Never in a million years would I have ever thought I’d be in this kind of predicament. I have two guys wanting me to commit to them. I never thought that it would be possible to even have one guy seriously interested in me, let alone two. Blake steps closer, his eyes earnest. “I want you to be my girlfriend. I want everyone to know that you’re no longer available, and neither am I.” I tear my gaze away from his and look

around uneasily, noticing that we’ve gained quite a few interested looks. “Blake,” I say lowly, “I don’t fit into your world. Can’t we just be happy with what we have?” “I don’t want you to fit into my world. Hell, I’d like to run from it if I could,” he says under his breath, his lips flattening. “Can we talk later? In private?” He gives me an unwavering look. “I said I’m done hiding.” “And you’ve completely blindsided me!” I hiss back. His jaw clenches. “I thought you’d be happy about this.” “Things are…complicated right

now.” Comprehension flares in his gaze, and his expression tightens. “This has to do with Nick.” “I need some time to think, Blake.” He looks disappointed as his eyes move away from mine, and then they promptly sharpen when he spies someone further down the hall. I follow his gaze and see Nick, and even though he has his head tilted down as he walks, he’s still tall enough for us to see the bruising on his jaw, and his split lip. Blake curses under his breath. I push away from my locker and hurry towards Nick. When he sees me coming, he tries to turn away in the opposite

direction, but Blake suddenly pushes past me. He manages to grab Nick’s arm and forcibly pull him out of the hallway traffic. I quickly follow and see Nick trying to hide a grimace of pain. There’s a hint of dark purple around his left eye, and my heart skips a beat when I realize someone had beaten him last night. Blake releases Nick’s arm. “You have to get out,” he says flatly. A muscle begins to tic in Nick’s jaw as he gazes back at Blake, his eyes coolly detached, not a hint of warmth in their depths. “It’s no longer any of your concern, remember?” “I don’t have to be your friend to worry about you. One of these days, he’s

going to go too far,” Blake warns. “Guess I’ll worry about that when it happens.” Nick’s eyes slide to me, and his jaw clenches before he abruptly turns, brushing past us and walking away. I instinctively try to follow, but Blake gently catches my arm, halting me. “Don’t,” he says in a heavy voice. “Nick’s pissed he even has to be seen looking the way that he does. If you chase after him acting all concerned, it’s going to make him madder, and he’ll resent you for it.” Nick is now out of sight, and I turn to Blake. “Who did that to him?” I demand. Blake looks troubled as his lips turn

down in the corners. “His dad.” My heart sinks. “Does this happen a lot?” “Unfortunately, yes.” I’d known that Nick’s home life probably wasn’t all that great, but I’d been hoping that a drunk father was the worst of it. Blake seems to know Nick better than I do, so I ask, “What do I do? I don’t want to make the situation worse.” “Treat him like you usually do,” he says in a neutral tone. “If you make a big deal out of it, he’ll shut you out.” “Okay.” Blake hesitates. “Fallon, we need to finish our conversation. Can we talk

tonight?” I shake my head. “I work and so does Nick. He’ll be giving me a ride home, and that’s the perfect opportunity to talk to him.” Blake falters, looking wounded. “Right,” he says, clearing his throat as he tries to cover up his disappointment. “Pick you up in the morning?” I reach out and touch his arm. “I do want what you want, but things are such a mess right now.” “You mean the mess is Nick,” he corrects dryly. My silence is his answer. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” Blake turns and walks away.

Feeling disappointed with how the morning is turning out, I walk back to my locker to finish grabbing my books. During lunch, my first instinct is to track down Nick, but Blake’s warning echoes in my head. Deciding it might be wise to give Nick his space, I follow my usual routine and go to the library. Instead of working on homework, I find one of the computers available and log onto the internet. I may not be able to solve Nick’s issues for him, but maybe I can put my own into perspective and figure out what to do where Nick and Blake are concerned. There has to be plenty of relationships that aren’t by the book, and

I think a relationship is defined by those who are in it. There has to be other people like me out there, women or men that don’t want to commit to one single person, they feel they can handle multiple relationships. Maybe it’s the way I grew up without knowing love that makes me greedy for more than just a two-person relationship. Is what I want unhealthy? I’m thinking it might be a good idea to do a little research and find out. I read with avid interest about the many different kinds of romantic relationships that people can have or are interested in. I’m not alone with wanting more than what is considered normal,

and that makes me feel a little better. Triad relationships aren’t uncommon, but definitely not as common as monogamy. The lunch hour flies by as I read article after article, and by the time I walk out of the library, I have more of an understanding as to what I want and how I feel about it. I’m not delusional. I know that neither Nick nor Blake will be open to the idea, but I need to find a way to avoid being pressured into choosing one or the other. Since it’s not something I have to figure out right away, I push aside my thoughts on relationships and begin concentrating on Nick. I don’t want him

going home tonight, and I’m hoping that I can talk him into staying with me.

~*~ I couldn’t get Nick to utter more than one or two words on the way to work, so I’m prepared to try a different tactic as we walk towards his car after our shifts. I climb into the passenger seat and close the squeaky door before securing my seatbelt. Nick’s silent as he backs the car out of the parking space, and it looks like he has every intention of remaining uncommunicative. “Do you snore?” I ask offhandedly. My question has caught him by surprise, and he glances at me. “Snore?” he echoes, looking bewildered by my question. “Yep.”

“I don’t think so.” “Good. I should warn you though, I’m a restless sleeper,” I tell him. We slow down at an intersection, and he looks at me once more. “Why would I need to know that?” “You’re staying with me tonight,” I say firmly, bracing myself for the inevitable argument that’s coming. Nick promptly scowls, and he stares straight ahead, his entire body visibly tense now. “Fallon, I don’t need you protecting me.” “I’m not.” The light turns green, and the car moves forward again. “Yes, you are,” he says with irritation.

“No,” I correct. “I am being selfish. I want to cuddle with that sexy body of yours.” A snort escapes him as he drives, his expression more than a little aggravated. “Fine. If you don’t stay, I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight because I’ll be thinking about you. That’ll lead to text messages filling up your phone throughout the night since you couldn’t be nice enough to share my bed.” Nick is broodingly silent now. “You know how you once said that friendship isn’t about giving or taking, it’s about being there for one another? This is me being here for you. You’re my first real friend. Let me in,” I say softly.

Nick sighs heavily. “Now you’re playing dirty,” he grumbles. “Does it help that I have a twin bed, so that means lots of cuddling?” I coax. “Sold,” he grudgingly says. A triumphant grin spreads across my face. I’d hated using his own advice against him, but it worked. “What about your aunt?” he asks. “She never checks on me at night.” A few minutes later, Nick parks his car at the corner, and we walk through the dark to the house. I lead him to my window, but Nick hesitates. “What’s wrong?” “Are you sure about this?” he whispers.

“She’s not home, so you don’t have to be quiet. And absolutely.” I turn and push open the window and climb inside. Nick pulls himself into my room, and he tries to hide a grimace as he straightens. “Why not use the front door if she’s not home?” I shrug and walk to the light switch, turning it on. “I like the window. Now let me see your ribs,” I say calmly. He looks at me mutely, his eyes warning me not to make a big deal out of what had happened to him. I place my hands on my hips, unfazed by his surly mood. “You’re going to have to take your shirt off anyway unless you plan on sleeping in your clothes.”

His eyes narrow, and then he gives me an adorably sullen look before reaching for the hem of his shirt and easing it off. My eyes run over his chest, ignoring his sexy abs and the muscles that I wish I could explore. He has bruising along his ribs, and that tells me that he’d either been hit with fists repeatedly or kicked when he’d been down. My heart aches for him, and I want to kiss each bruise in hopes of easing his pain, but I am going to heed Blake’s warning. Nick is watching me closely, so I move to the bed, drawing back the sheets. “You make yourself comfortable first,” I suggest, meeting his gaze.

He blinks, his eyebrows pulling together. “We’re going to bed?” “If you haven’t noticed, I don’t have much in here, so we’re going to be sitting around anyway,” I point out. His eyes scan the room. “True,” he agrees. He sits down on the bed and leans over to unlace his black boots. Then he rises to his feet and hesitates, his fingers on the button of his jeans. “Did you go commando today?” I ask with interest. “No.” I wave a hand at him, turning away to dig out some clothing from my dresser. “Go ahead, I don’t mind.” While he takes off his jeans, I begin to change

with my back to him. I don’t really care if he sees me naked again, but I know that if I face him and strip down, he’ll claim I’m deliberately baiting him. I slip off my shirt and bra, pulling on a tank. Then I shimmy out of my jeans and put on shorts. When I turn around, Nick is already in bed, the sheets pulled up around his waist. My heart constricts, because I really wish he were lying there under different circumstances, waiting for something more than just a little cuddling. “I’m going to brush my teeth, I’ll be right back,” I tell him. I’m back in my room five minutes later, and I open the top dresser drawer

to pull out the doorstopper I’d bought. After squatting down and jamming it beneath the door, I switch off the light and walk over to the bed. I carefully ease in beside him, careful not to nudge him where he’s bruised. Nick helps me get comfortable, and I end up cuddled against his side, my cheek resting on his pectoral muscle, my right hand flat on the center of his chest. We’re both silent until I can’t hold back any longer. “Can I ask about the tattoo on your back?” I ask cautiously. “It’s my mom’s name.” I’m immensely relieved that it’s not an ex-girlfriend’s. “I know she’s gone, but do you mind if I ask what

happened?” “She died when I was five. She was hit by a car; it was a hit and run,” he says with a hint of bitterness in his tone. “I’m so sorry,” I say softly. “Me too. I have very few memories of her, but the ones I do have are of a beautiful, kind woman that loved me unconditionally.” “She sounds special. My mom always hated me,” I quietly reveal. Nick’s hand touches my lower back and gently begins running up and down in a soothing manner. “Why?” I think the best way to coax Nick into opening up about his father is for me to confide in him first. I’ve never spoken to

anyone about my mom, so I’m nervous to tell him the things that I’ve never told anyone. “She hated me because I was simply there. I was always in the way, and most of my childhood was spent in a locked room. Sometimes she’d remember to feed me, but most of the time I was forgotten,” I say, struggling to keep my tone as detached as possible. There’s no point in crying over the past. Nick’s arms wrap around me, and they tighten as if he’s trying to protect me from the bad memories that are being dredged up. “My mom was young when she had me, only eighteen,” I continue. “She couldn’t hold down a job for long, so

she made money however she could, either on her back or doing something else in exchange for cash. I don’t know why she even had me in the first place. I’m guessing maybe so that she could hold onto someone, maybe my father? She claims she doesn’t know who fathered me, but sometimes I wonder.” “Did she ever hit you?” Nick asks softly. “No, but some of her boyfriends could be kind of aggressive. I was pushed around from time to time, and a few even tried to…you know,” I say softly, feeling dirty even just thinking back on those bad times. Nick’s entire body goes rigid.

“Tried?” “I was pretty young the first time, so I couldn’t get away,” I whisper, my hand curling up into a fist on his chest. “He was just curious, so it didn’t go too far. The second guy I ran from and locked myself in the bathroom. After that, if anyone looked at me in that special way, I would hide until they left.” Nick’s body remains tense beside mine. “God, I had no idea the shit you’ve already gone through…” he says, sounding troubled. “Relationships are new to me. I never had one with my mother or with anyone else growing up. I was always so lonely and just wanted someone to care, to give

me some sort of attention, you know?” “Which is why you rely on sex, because you know what to expect. You can control it without opening yourself up emotionally,” Nick says slowly as his body relaxes again. “I want someone to care about me, someone who I can count on and be close to. I want it so badly, and yet it kind of frightens me at the same time.” “Why?” “Because to have it and then have to let it go when it’s over…it would hurt.” “Life hurts, Fallon. You can’t avoid it.” “I know. I’m pretty messed up, aren’t?” I ask with a wary sigh.

“No, I don’t think so. You’ve just had the wrong people in your life, but I’m working on that.” I smile and turn my head, pressing a tender kiss to his chest. “I really, really like you, Nick Parrish.” “I really, really like you back, Fallon McAllister,” he says, rubbing my back. “Nick?” “Hmm?” “Can I ask you about your dad?” I ask carefully. Thankfully, he doesn’t shut down on me, and he continues to run his hand over my back, letting me know that he’s not as put off by the topic as he had been earlier. “After my mom died, he started

getting to know the wrong kinds of people. It wasn’t long before drugs and alcohol took over his life. If he’s not drunk, he’s high. He also deals drugs and is involved with a lot of shady people. That’s why I didn’t want you around him. He’s bad news, Fallon. I wouldn’t put it past him to try something with you, especially with how you look. I’ve seen the way he’s been with other women, and he’s… It’s just not wise to have you anywhere near him.” “Okay,” I agree, and now I understand why he’d rushed me out of there the other night. “He’s the reason I started getting involved with drugs. It’s what I learned,

how I grew up. Blake did everything he could to get my head on straight, and it was working to some extent until I kissed him. When he walked out of my life, it pushed me to change everything instead of only the bits I felt like changing. One of my dad’s old friends had kicked his bad habits and started a new life, one that didn’t involve drugs and violence. I went to him for advice on how to turn things around for myself, and he’s been helping me ever since. He’s the one who offered to give me the job at the shop.” His hand stills on my back. “I’m sticking it out with my old man until I turn eighteen; then I’m out of there and

looking for an apartment. I am not going to turn into him. I’m not going down that road,” he says with gritty determination. “When do you turn eighteen?” “I’ve got nine more weeks to go.” “That’s not bad. I’m older than you,” I tease. “When’s your birthday?” “At the end of the month.” “Ah, a Halloween baby,” he murmurs. “Have I mentioned that I have a thing for older women?” I lift my head and peer at him in the shadows, smiling. “Good to know.” His hand leaves my back to reach up and brush a strand of hair away from my face. “You’re so tempting, especially

tonight,” he confesses. “So give in and be with me. Forget all the problems we have and just focus on how much we like each other,” I cajole. “No sex. When we get to that point, I want it to mean something,” he says firmly. I nod and brush my lips across the corner of his mouth. “No sex,” I agree. “Even now, it would mean something to me, but I don’t want you to regret it,” I whisper. Then I kiss him before he can reply. His lips part, and he shifts me so that I am on my back, his body easing on top of mine. He immediately takes control of

the kiss, and it’s hot and intense right from the start. There is no slow build. My hands sink into his hair, and he nips at my lower lip before his lips trail down my jaw. I absolutely love how sensitive my neck is, and I shiver in Nick’s arms as his lips brush across my skin. When he scrapes his teeth just below my pulse, I let out a low moan, my hips undulating beneath his. He bites me, and I arch into him and writhe on the mattress as he begins to seductively soothe the area with his tongue before sucking gently. My hands reach down to slide beneath the waistband of his boxers so that I can put my hands on his tight ass.

He actually growls against my neck until we hear the garage door beginning to open. His lips leave my neck as we both freeze. “Playtime is over,” I grumble with irritation. Catherine’s early tonight. Nick sighs and shifts so that he’s on his back, my body cuddled into his side. “Are you positive she’s not going to check on you?” he whispers. “I’m sure.” “Set your alarm for six so I can clear out early.” “My alarm clock is on the dresser, so I’ll set it after my aunt goes to bed. I don’t want her to hear me moving around my room.”

We both fall silent as we listen to Catherine walking around the house.

Eighteen Nick had given me a hickey last night, and as much as I try to cover it with makeup, it’s still noticeable. There is no way that Blake is going to overlook it. I don’t regret it, but I know that it’s going to cause further problems today. As I prepare for school, my mind shifts to Nick. I’d enjoyed sleeping in his arms last night, and I like that my sheets still carry the scent of his cologne. I feel much closer to him now, especially with sharing our pasts with each other. He really does seem to understand me, and our connection is so different compared to the way Blake and

I connect. Nerves flutter in my belly as I walk to my window so I can watch for Blake. I’m anxious about seeing him this morning. He wants me to commit fully to our relationship, but there’s no way I can willingly walk away from Nick. God, I want them both so bad. There has to be a way to keep both relationships without coming off as self-centered. If only I could find a way to explain that my reasoning isn’t because I’m simply greedy, it’s because I care about them too much to give up on what I could have with them both. When Blake’s car pulls up at the corner, I leave the house and take a deep

breath as I approach it. The drive to school is probably going to be strained with tension. “Hi,” I greet lightly as I climb in and close the door. Blake leans over to give me a kiss, but he stiffens when he sees my neck. His expression hardens as he moves back, his eyes lifting to mine. “I guess I know what you were up to last night,” he says with disappointment. “We didn’t have sex,” I say, knowing that information probably won’t make him feel any better, but I still want him to know that it didn’t get that far. Blake releases a sigh, his hands tightening on the steering wheel as he

stares straight ahead. He makes no move to pull away from the curb. “Fallon, I don’t want just a part of you, I want all of you.” “You have me.” “Not if Nick has you too,” he bites out. I draw in a nervous breath, preparing to tell him how I feel and what I want. “I know this is messed up, but I want you both.” He turns his head so he can look at me, and he frowns. “Life doesn’t work that way.” “Blake, there’s no rule that states a person can’t have multiple relationships.”

His expression tightens, and he shakes his head. “You can’t have us both. It’ll never work, and I don’t want to share you.” “You wouldn’t have to share me,” I insist. “If you’re with him when you’re not with me, I am,” he counters back. “I’d be with him when I wouldn’t have been with you anyway. Like when you’re at practice, or you have other plans. What does it matter?” His jaw clenches, and I can tell he’s trying to stay calm. “It matters. A lot,” he says stiffly. I look down at my hands, my heart sinking. I’m not doing a good job of

explaining any of this to Blake, and I don’t know what else to do or say. “What if I said I wanted to see someone else when I’m not with you?” Blake asks, breaking the heavy silence. “I don’t know,” I say honestly. He runs a hand over his face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” “What do you mean?” He looks at me. “It was just supposed to be good sex, but along the way, I started wanting more. You’re unlike any girl that I’ve ever met, and it’s amazing.” Frustration shines in his eyes now. “You started out as friends with Nick, why can’t you stay platonic with him and be with me?”

“Blake…” “You need to figure out what you want,” he says quietly. “I already know.” His eyes hold mine. “I’m not content hiding anymore. That means going public and committing. Fallon, I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Commitment, stability, someone to count on… We’d be really good together.” “I want that too, Blake.” “Then let go of Nick,” he says bluntly. “It’s not that simple.” Blake makes a sound in the back of his throat, and he looks at me with disbelief. “I don’t mean to be a dick, but

you’re delusional thinking you can date us both,” he says with controlled gentleness to offset the harshness of his words. “I know it sounds crazy,” I say steadily, refusing to give up just yet. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t be done. There are a lot of people out there that have multiple relationships. If you would just do a little research on the topic, you’ll find that there are plenty of people who want more than just a monogamous relationship.” His lips part, and he looks like he’s at a loss for words. “You’ve been researching this stuff?” he asks slowly. “I sometimes use one of the library’s

computers when I’m bored during lunch.” “Fallon,” he groans, letting his head fall back against the headrest. “Just because you read something doesn’t mean it can actually work.” His head lifts, and he looks at me again. “I get that you’re not used to being in a relationship. You’ve made that pretty clear, but just because you read something doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s right for you.” I shoot him a reproachful look. “Do not act like I have no clue what I am talking about. I’m not wanting it just because I read about it. I researched it because I already felt that way before I

even read the articles. There’s a lot of people out there that have these types of relationships.” “Fuck.” Blake curses under his breath, and he looks at me with conflicted eyes. “Damn it, I’m not trying to belittle how you feel or make you feel bad for wanting this. I just…have you really thought through something like that? Do you have any idea how complicated it would be?” I nod. “There’d have to be some set rules.” His eyes search mine. “Fallon, I’m not going to warm up to the idea. I’m not comfortable with you seeing Nick.” “You were once close with Nick… I

would think if you could tolerate anyone, it would be him.” “This is a pointless conversation.” I look away, staring out my window. I’m a fool to think that I can get Nick and Blake to agree to what I want. I just wish we had the chance to try it. If Nick has feelings for Blake, and if Blake might have those same feelings for Nick, wouldn’t that make all three of us compatible? “We need to go or we’ll be late. Am I dropping you off a block away from school?” Blake asks as he pulls out into the street. “Yes, please.” Blake makes no effort to start a new

conversation. He’s upset, and now I’m starting to regret bringing up the subject. Both of them want me to open up to them, yet this is what happens when I do —at least with Blake. I haven’t really tried pushing the topic on Nick yet. Blake turns onto a side street near the school and pulls over to the curb. I reach over and touch his arm. “Blake, I really care about you.” “Apparently not enough,” he says bitterly. Tears sting the backs of my eyes, and I hold them back. “That’s not true,” I deny. He gives me a hard look. “Prove it. Choose me over Nick.”

“Blake…” “Just go. I don’t want you to be late,” he says. There’s nothing more that can be said, and I climb out and watch him drive away. Then I turn and start walking. I just barely manage to make it to my first class on time, and the day seems to drag on as my heart weighs heavily in my chest. Is what I want really all that wrong? To me, it makes perfect sense. It just feels right, especially with Blake and Nick. I have this gut feeling that it could work, and that it might rebuild Blake and Nick’s friendship. Yet Blake thinks it’s wrong and unrealistic. Is it possible that

my childhood messed me up so much that my thoughts on relationships are completely skewed? It’s not until after lunch that I get my first taste of real jealousy. I spy Blake at his locker, and Camilla is standing close to him, her hand on his arm as she talks. The bottom drops out of my stomach at the sight. I want to go over there and yank her fingers off him, declaring that he’s mine. As I watch Blake and Camilla, he flashes her that devastating smile of his. That smile crushes me, and it’s beginning to sink in that I’m going to lose him if I can’t help him feel secure in what we’re building. I draw in a deep breath and walk

over to them, touching Blake’s shoulder. “Hey, Blake.” He’s momentarily rendered speechless by my sudden appearance, and he stares at me. “We’re having a private conversation,” Camilla pointedly says to me, giving me a look. I level her with a cool stare of my own. “And now you’re not.” Everyone in the hall is watching us, and it bothers me that we’re causing a scene, but there’s not much I can do. It’s either this or allow Blake to grow even more distant towards me. Camilla looks at me dismissively. “You don’t own him, and he’ll certainly

never be yours.” I look up at Blake. “Are you mine?” I dare to ask. His eyes flare with approval, and he gives me one of his sweet smiles. “Completely.” “You were saying?” I ask Camilla, my eyes swinging back to her. Her eyes dart between me and Blake, and I can tell that she’s struggling to process what’s just happened and how everything had gone downhill so fast—at least for her. “I’ve moved on, Camilla,” Blake says gently, obviously not wanting to hurt her. Then he steps closer to me, slipping his arm around my waist.

Camilla’s expression tightens momentarily, then she smiles snidely at me. “Good luck keeping him,” she mocks before walking away. Blake immediately turns to face me, his eyes searching mine. “Does this mean what I think it means? That you’re mine?” I bite my lip, not wanting to agree to something that I can’t commit to. “I don’t know.” I didn’t really think this through. His eyes narrow, and he cups my cheek with his hand before leaning down and kissing me in front of everyone. As usual, I lose myself to the sensation of his lips on my own, his tongue stroking mine. When I remember that we have an

audience, I end the kiss and pull out of his arms. Blake smiles. “You are now.” It sinks in that he’d just kissed me to mark his damned territory, metaphorically speaking, and my eyes shoot daggers at him. “I am not a fucking dog,” I hiss. Regret flickers in his gaze. “Forgive me?” “I’ll think about it,” I say sourly, and then I turn and walk away before I can really let him have it. That’s when my eyes connect with Nick’s, and he’s staring at me from across the hall with a guarded expression on his face. Shit.

~*~ “Can we talk? Please?” I plead with Nick, refusing to climb onto his motorcycle. We’re behind the tattoo shop, and Nick still plans on giving me a ride home, but he’s been extremely uncommunicative since Blake kissed me earlier at school. Nick gives me a brooding look from where he sits on the motorcycle. “What’s to talk about? You made your choice. Give me some time to deal, and then we’ll see if we can salvage the friendship we started.” “Nick, I didn’t make a choice.” “You kissed him.” “He kissed me!” I practically yell

with exasperation. “It doesn’t matter who started the kiss. You guys went public, so that means you guys are together.” “That wasn’t what I was trying to do when I approached him.” “Wasn’t it?” “I want you both!” I exclaim. Nick shakes his head, looking disappointed. “I get that you feel that way. I don’t blame you, especially with the way you were brought up, but what you want would never work.” “Think about it, Nick,” I argue. “You like Blake, and what if Blake’s attracted to you after all? That would make all three of us compatible.”

“If he was attracted to me, he wouldn’t have shut me out. He never even gave me a chance to explain myself,” he says flatly. I look at him challengingly. “What if the kiss scared him instead?” Nick’s quiet now. “What if giving me a chance, therefore him, gives you the possibility to explore things with him? What if I can help open that door?” I reason. “First off, I didn’t plan to kiss him, it just happened. I don’t even know if I’d be comfortable doing it again, much less more. Second, Blake definitely wouldn’t be game for it, and lastly, wouldn’t that bother you?”

“You mean you two hooking up?” I ask. “Hypothetically, but yeah.” I think it over before responding. Would I be jealous? No, I don’t think I would be, because they’d still be mine, and I’d be theirs. “No,” I say with an unwavering look. Nick’s expression says he doesn’t believe me. “You wouldn’t?” he asks doubtfully. “I’d have to be put in that position to really know for sure how I’d react, but just thinking about it doesn’t bother me.” Nick rubs his face. “Fallon, we’re only seventeen, going on eighteen. We’re too young to be even considering

something as complicated as what you want.” “We’re old enough to have sex, right?” I persist. “Yes.” “Then we’re old enough to figure out what kind of relationships we want to build.” Nick reaches out, touching my hand with his. “Sweetheart, it’s not going to happen,” he says gently. I draw my hand from his and drop my head into my hands. “I know it sounds so crazy, but it’s all I can think about. There’s something inside me that won’t let the idea go,” I say miserably, my voice muffled.

“Come here,” I hear Nick say. I automatically step closer as I peer at him, and he rises slightly, wrapping his arms around me. “Whether you like it or not, you’re going to have to decide which of us you want more.” Tears sting my eyes, and I press my face into his chest. I don’t want to make a choice. Don’t they see that it’s impossible? “I need to get you home,” Nick murmurs. I look up at him hopefully. “Can’t we do something?” “Not tonight.” I sigh, and knowing the subject is closed, I climb on behind him. Instead of

watching where we’re going, I close my eyes and struggle with the realization that Nick is right. I am going to have to choose. When I feel Nick pull up to the curb, I lift my head and climb off as he cuts the engine. That’s when I see Blake’s Camaro parked in front of us, and my heart sinks. This isn’t going to lead to anything good. Blake climbs out from the driver’s side, and both Nick and I wait for him to approach us. Blake looks at Nick, his expression calm but unreadable. “She needs to choose,” he says simply. Nick nods in agreement. “I’ve told her the same thing.”

They both look at me expectantly. A lump has formed in my throat, and I try to swallow past it. “It’s not that easy,” I say in a thick, emotional voice. “The second you two took things past the boundaries of friendship is when you knew that you would have to eventually make that decision, Fallon,” Blake chides. I glare at him. “It’s true, and you know it,” he says softly. Nick turns on me, gaining my attention. “We just talked about this, Fallon. You’re going to have to make a decision, you can’t put it off any longer.” I back away from the both of them,

angry that they are siding with each other with the intention of pressuring me. “You both are complete asses if you’re expecting me to decide right here and right now.” Nick and Blake exchange a look. I’m done. I can’t deal with them right now. “Good night,” I say tightly. Then I turn and walk away towards the house, my stiff posture daring them to rethink any possibility of trying to continue this conversation further tonight. The second I climb into the bedroom and close the window, I drop onto the bed, tears falling from my eyes as I curl up in the darkness. Today was a complete disaster. I want what Blake

wants so badly. He’s the light to my darkness, and yet Nick embraces the dark parts of me, and I like how he understands me. They both are special in different ways. How am I supposed to give one of them up?

Nineteen I have no idea how Blake is feeling the next morning, so when I find him waiting for me at the corner, I hope that it’s a good sign. I silently climb into his car, worrying that if I say anything, it’ll start our conversation off on a bad note. “Here,” Blake says lightly. My eyes drop to the small tube of clear lip gloss that he’s holding out. I blink, accepting it and noting that it’s my favorite flavor, strawberry. “What is this for?” “Peace offering,” he says with a crooked smile. He then turns serious, and the weight of his gaze holds mine

captive. “I was a bit of a dick yesterday. Look, I’m not trying to be insensitive to your situation, but it drives me crazy that you want him as much as you want me.” I hate that I am upsetting him, and my eyes lower to the lip gloss. Needing a moment to pull myself together, I twist it open and begin applying it. When I’m finished, I slip it in my backpack and look at him sincerely. “I’m sorry.” Blake sighs. “I don’t understand how this became so complicated in the first place.” I chew my lower lip, telling myself not to bring it up, that it’ll make things worse. However, I really need to know where Blake stands when it comes to

Nick and the kiss. How can they let their friendship fall apart over it? “Nick told me that he kissed you,” I say carefully. Blake stiffens in his seat. “Did you like it?” I dare to ask. His expression shuts down, but his eyes deliberately stay on mine. “No,” he says emphatically. “Then all he did was make a mistake while intoxicated. Why can’t you forgive him?” I ask gently. “It changed everything, and that’s all I’m saying on the subject. What happened is our business, not yours.” “Yet what goes on between him and me is yours?” I can’t resist asking. Blake groans. “I don’t want to fight

with you, Fallon.” “I don’t want to, either.” “Then let’s not talk about Nick.” “Fine with me,” I agree. His expression smooths out. “I have an away game tonight, and tomorrow evening I’ll be out of town with my parents.” He scowls. “I swear they are insisting I come with just to keep me from seeing you.” “They probably are.” “I need to stand my ground with them, but sometimes it’s just easier to go along with what they want.” His eyes lock on mine. “Except when it comes to you.” “Have they asked you to quit seeing me?”

“Yes,” he admits. “What have you said?” “That you’re the best thing to happen to me in a very long time,” he says without any hesitation. My heart warms, and I can’t help but grin at him. “I feel the same way.” “Good, because I am done dropping you off a block from school,” he says firmly, his tone warning me that arguing is pointless. He pulls out onto the street, and I settle back in the seat, deciding it’s an argument that’s not worth having. Blake turns into the school parking lot and finds an empty space. After he cuts the engine, he looks at me. “This thing between us, it’s real, Fallon. Nothing

about us is temporary.” “I know,” I say softly. He reaches out, brushing my cheek with his hand. “As much as you’re hating the pressure, you need to sort out what you want, the sooner the better.” I look away and his hand drops. “I want to be everything and all that you need. Give me the chance to be that for you.”

~*~ “Fallon!” I’m just about to open the library door when I hear Nick call my name. I turn with surprise to find him walking towards me. The last time I’d seen him was when he and Blake had cornered me outside my aunt’s house, and I’m instantly wary. Nick walks up, his expression alert as his eyes meet mine. “Hey, hang with me for a bit?” He’s sought me out, and that has me feeling a little giddy, but I’m also perfectly aware that this has everything to do with what had gone down last night. I’m not willing to give up extra

time with him though, so I nod and we both start walking down the hall. I follow him, and he leads me all the way to the back of the school, down a hall, and past a restroom. There’s a narrow stairwell that’s hidden around the corner, and he leads me up the stairs to a flat area that has a window with a bench below it before the stairwell turns and goes up to the second floor. “So this is where you spend your lunch?” I ask. “This is it,” he confirms. He sits on the bench, setting his backpack on the floor as he motions for me to sit beside him. “It’s too far out of the way, so everyone uses the other stairwell,” he

explains. I sit next to him and look around. Up on the second floor, I see a hallway, but it appears to be empty. “I’m surprised you’ve managed to keep this to yourself,” I comment. Nick turns amused. “It hasn’t been easy.” “What do you mean?” “Some of the jocks tried to take it over at one point, but I refused to back off. Some couples still try to makeout here during lunch, but when they realize I’m not leaving, they wander off.” I draw my knees to my chest, letting my arms wrap around them. I like that Nick is sharing his favorite spot with

me. He is definitely a loner at heart while Blake eats with all his friends in the lunchroom. I still can’t get over how opposite they are. “I’m sorry about last night,” Nick says, drawing my attention back to him. “You probably felt ganged up on. I had no idea he would be there, and things just went…downhill,” he finishes dryly. I look away, and that familiar ache begins building in my chest. I really don’t want to talk about this with him. After my conversation with Blake earlier in his car, I’m even more frustrated, and I have no idea how to handle any of this. “I know you’re really feeling

pressured right now, and the last thing I want to do is make it worse for you.” I look at him once more. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” He nods. “I’m not asking you to make a decision right now or anything, but I want you to understand why I want something with you that I can count on. Something that is stable—without another guy added to the mix.” “Okay, I’m listening,” I say quietly. “You and I had similar childhoods when it comes to abandonment. After my mom died, my dad just seemed to lose it, and all he cared about was drowning his sorrows. He lost interest in me, and I had to fend for myself. You know how

that feels, and you understand that desperateness of wanting to feel needed —for someone to care.” I nod with understanding. “You also fear getting hurt, just like I do. Fallon, I need someone to want to be there. Someone who will make our relationship a priority, someone that I can count on. I don’t want to be filling space for a short period of time until your interest fades. I need more.” “That’s what you think? That you’re just a temporary fix of some sort?” I ask with shock. “It’s how I feel.” “That’s how I felt with both of you. No one’s ever been interested in me, and

you two are the first ones who actually want to stick around. I’ve come to realize that you both plan on being in my life if we can ever sort out this mess we’re in, and I need you to understand that if I thought either of you were temporary for me, my decision would be much easier.” Nick is silent. I look at him pleadingly. “I swear I care about you both. I don’t want you thinking I’m playing some sort of game; this is real to me.” “I know,” he says, his eyes holding mine. “The thing is, you have the power to hurt me, and after Blake, that would be a shitty thing to have to deal with.”

“It goes both ways, Nick. You can hurt me back.” He looks at me soberly. “I just needed you to hear where I’m coming from with wanting to keep you to myself.” “Thank you for telling me. I just wish I could somehow explain myself better to the both of you, but I’m having a hard time sorting it out myself.” I flatten my lips, looking at my thumbnail on my right hand. “Growing up, no one ever wanted to hear what I had to say, so I’m not good at explaining my feelings or what I want,” I confess. “I wish I would have known you when we were kids. We would have

made quite a pair,” Nick says lightly. A smile forms on my lips as I turn my head to look at him. “We would have been best friends,” I agree. We look up as someone comes down the staircase. The girl blushes when she sees Nick, and then she hurries past us and disappears down the stairs that lead to the first level. I tilt my head closer to Nick’s. “She thinks you’re cute,” I tease. “Not my type.” “You’re right, she doesn’t look like the type to put out on the first date.” “I meant she’s not you,” he muses. “Such a sweet talker,” I say, playfully giving his shoulder a shove. Then my gaze roams over the areas on his face

that are still bruised. “Nick, can I ask you something?” “Ask me anything,” he says simply. “How often does your dad hit you?” His jaw hardens. “When he’s drunk and I’m unfortunate enough to be around.” “How often is that?” “Not too often anymore. I try to avoid him, and I’m pretty good at climbing out the window if I have to.” “We both have a thing for windows, don’t we?” I murmur. “That we do.”

~*~ Saturday evening, I walk around the college district, searching for a party to ease the turmoil I’ve been feeling. Blake is out of town with his parents at some business function, and Nick is working. It’s probably for the best that I avoid them this weekend. The pressure is just too much, and I know that if I see one of them, they’ll push for my decision. It doesn’t matter that both have apologized, they still want me to make a choice. I walk until I come across a loud house party that is so packed that I’m brushing up against people just trying to move from room to room. With a drink in hand, I enjoy the loud music and

watch the college students interact. I have no intention of drinking myself stupid tonight, I don’t want to land in someone’s bed or end up in a situation that I am too drunk to get out of. The point of this party is to get out of the house for the evening so that I can take a break from all the drama in my life—not party and go wild. A few guys approach me, and I just smile and tell them that I’m waiting on my boyfriend. They wander off, and I walk to the rec room to watch a game of beer pong. As I stand against the wall, trying to go unnoticed, I can’t help but think back to when I’d first arrived here in Ohio, and I’d gone in search for a

party. I’d been alone, looking for a good time and some good sex. It’s ironic how much has changed since then. Even though I’m supposed to be distracting myself, I still can’t turn my mind off where Nick and Blake are concerned. I’ve thought long and hard about what my options are, and it all comes down to one—the only one. I’m not choosing. I won’t. If they want me to be with only one of them, they are going to have to make that choice for me, because I refuse to make it myself. Granted, no matter what happens, I’m going to be devastated. Sure, I could date Blake and try to hold

onto Nick, that way I’d still have them both in my life, but I think that would be torture. I wouldn’t be happy with just friendship, and I’m betting Nick would be in agreement. One of them is going to have to walk away, and I’m quite certain it’s not going to be easy for them to decide. If they want this sorted out immediately, then they can find out what it’s like to have to make a decision that they don’t really want to make. As I sip my drink, my brows furrow. I completely understand their need for commitment—well, sort of. I mean, a two-person relationship is the norm, but I’ve known for a long time that I am

anything but normal. Did my past cause me to want more than one relationship, or would I have turned out this way even if I’d been brought up in a loving home? I have no idea, and even if I knew the answer, it still wouldn’t change the present. Suddenly, I hear screams rise over the music and a loud pop-pop-pop sound coming from one of the other rooms. Everyone looks towards the doorway, and we see people running past. Someone pauses long enough to shout into the room, “Someone’s got a gun!” My cup falls from my fingers. It’s a mad-dash to the door, and I’m jostled and elbowed. We enter the hall, and I

hear another pop as a girl screams behind me, shoving at me to move faster. Whoever is firing the gun is at the front of the house, which means there’s a crowd of people in the hall, trying to rush towards the back of the house. I feel like I’m going to suffocate as bodies push into me from every which way, and with my height, a lot of them are taller. Someone’s pushing hard into my back, and I’m pressed against a broad, male back that’s in front of me. I struggle to draw in a lungful of oxygen. The girls in the hallway are screaming, and the guys are shouting as everyone fights to flee the gunfire. There’s another resounding pop, and the crowd surges even more.

I stumble, and the only thing keeping me from falling to the ground and getting trampled is my tight grip on the shirt in front of me. The fabric tears but not enough for me to lose my grip on it. The mass of pushing bodies is inching forward, and it feels like it’s taking forever to escape. When we approach a narrow doorway, I understand now why it’s taking so long. The doorway isn’t wide, and too many people are trying to go through at once, and it’s causing a jam. People are being squished to the side— mostly girls—as the bigger guys push through the doorway and into a kitchen. I’m going to end up one of those terrified

girls being crushed if I don’t fight to stay where I’m at—behind the big guy in front of me. I literally wrap my arms around his waist and flatten myself to his back. He stiffens, trying to push my hands off his stomach, but then he gives up as he changes his mind and shoves the guy in front of him. He bulldozes his way through, and the second we push our way into the kitchen, I let him go. Everyone is fleeing out the back door, and I am one of them. I’m relieved when I feel fresh air on my face, and then I bolt down the stairs and run like everyone else. I don’t know if it’s one person shooting, or multiple people, or if their

target is still running behind me, in front of me, or still inside the house. I veer off from the crowd and dart through a backyard and come upon a wooden fence that is waist-high. I don’t even think about it, I just climb straight over and run across the yard until I reach the other side. I’m up and over the second fence in seconds. As I try to distance myself from the crowd that had fled the shooting, I run through yards and down streets. Eventually, I am winded, and I have no idea how long I’ve been running down random streets. The houses are now fewer and farther between, and up ahead, I think I see the shadows of what

looks like a playground. My side hurts, and I press a hand against it as I walk towards the swing set. When I approach it, I see that the top it is leaning, and I scan the area. Even in the dark, I can tell that the playground is very dilapidated and probably rarely used. Shit. I’m now in a bad area of town. Since I don’t trust the swing to actually hold my weight, I walk over to an old, wooden picnic table. After pulling my phone out of my back pocket, I sit down and swipe the screen to turn it on. My heart is still pounding out of control from my ordeal, and I’m anxious for Nick to come pick me up since I

don’t want to wander around an unknown area. With shaking hands, I put the phone to my ear as it rings on the other end. It rings, and it rings until Nick’s voice curtly says, “Leave a message.” “Nick, it’s Fallon. I know you’re working, but something bad happened. I need you to call me back,” I say as calmly as I can before ending the call. I’m chilled, and I wrap my arms around myself as I anxiously wait for him to call back. Five minutes go by, and it’s at that point that I realize he might not check his phone until after his shift. If I recall correctly, he’s working a late one tonight.

I don’t want to bother Blake, but I really need to hear a calm and reassuring voice. I call his phone, and his voicemail promptly picks up. Instead of leaving a message, I disconnect the call. My eyes roam the park, and I shiver. What am I going to do now? I’m startled when my phone chimes in my hand. It’s a text message from Blake. In the middle of something right now. I’m bored to death. Didn’t mean to bother you. Just needed to hear your voice, I send back, feeling a little better now that I am in contact with one of the guys. Everything ok? Blake sends back. I look around once more, and I hate

that I am stuck here until I venture out on my own or Nick checks his phone. I just have a bad feeling that I’m going to run into trouble if I don’t get away from here soon, which is why I decide to be honest with Blake. Maybe he can help contact Nick. I quickly type, There was a shooting at a party, and now I’m in a bad area of town. Nick’s not answering his phone. I wait for Blake to reply, and my phone rings a minute later. It’s Blake. “What do you mean there was a shooting?” he demands. “There was gunfire at a party and everyone panicked. It was awful, Blake. I thought I was going to get trampled to

death or suffocated,” I say shakily. “I ran as soon as I escaped the house. I didn’t know who the target was or what was going on, so I tried to distance myself from the rest of the crowd. Now I don’t know where I am, and I’m scared to walk around any further.” “Fuck. Where exactly are you at the moment?” “At a playground. It’s really old.” “What about a street sign? Are you close to one?” he asks as his voice calms. I look up and down the long and narrow street. There doesn’t seem to be any roads connecting to it, at least not in the vicinity that I can see. I must have

zoned out while I was running, because I can’t remember how I ended up on this street. “There isn’t one nearby.” “What about a park name? Is there a sign anywhere?” “No.” “I’m an hour and a half away, Fallon,” he says grimly. “I know,” I say miserably. Then I think I hear voices, and my breath hitches as I look up. Two shadows are walking down the street, and they look like men. “Fallon?” Blake asks sharply. My eyes dart around as I look for a place to hide. There’s a small, wooden playhouse over by a merry-go-round that

I hadn’t noticed earlier, and I rush for it. After squeezing through the door, I crawl to the corner and hide in the dark. I put the phone to my ear and whisper, “Someone’s coming. I have to go.” I disconnect the call and quickly turn my phone to vibrate. Through the crack in the wall, I watch as two guys walk over to the picnic table, their cigarettes glowing in the dark. I can’t hear what they are saying, but they have hoods up over their heads. My phone vibrates in my hand, and I’m frightened the sound might carry, so I turn off the phone completely. I hate to lose my only connection to safety, but I can’t let those guys know that I am here.

I clamp my lips tightly together and peek through the crack, watching them intently. When they continue to talk and smoke, I begin to relax. They have no idea that I’m here, and there’s no way they are going to crawl inside this little playhouse without a reason. As the minutes tick by, they light up new cigarettes, and I rest my head against the wall of the playhouse.

Twenty “Come on out, little girl. We’ll have ourselves a tea party. Doesn’t that sound fun?” I cringe as his voice comes through the door, and I huddle in the bathtub, trying to make myself as small as possible. The lights are off, and I’d locked the door, but I’m not sure if it’ll be enough to keep him out. I want to call for mommy, but I’d seen her asleep on the couch, and I know she’ll be of no help to me. The last guy that offered to play with me had touched me in places that I didn’t want him to touch, and the memory

causes my shoulders to tremble as I wrap my thin arms around my bony knees. “If you come out, I’ll give you some candy. I heard you whining earlier that you were hungry. Don’t you want some candy?” he coaxes. I press my lips together tightly, my heart thundering in my chest. Something hits the door, and I flinch. “Come out, you little brat.” I wake with a start, and for a moment, I think I’m still that seven-year-old little girl, hiding in the bathtub in the dark. Then the party and shooting come back to me, and I quickly put my eye to the crack. The guys are gone. Very

cautiously, I crawl to the doorway and scan the playground. It looks empty. I scramble backwards and lean against the wall, too scared to actually leave my hiding place. I turn on my phone and look at the time. A full hour has gone by, and I have several voice messages and multiple texts. Blake is out of town, so I quickly try Nick again without checking any of the messages. He picks up on the first ring and asks tersely, “Why the fuck haven’t you answered your phone?” I’m relieved to hear his voice, and I welcome his anger. “I had to shut it off. There was a shooting at a party and I ran off. I got lost and found a park, and then

two guys arrived, so I hid.” “Blake already filled me in,” he cuts in before I can say anything more. “I’ve been driving past all the playgrounds in the area searching for you.” “Blake called you?” “He called the shop’s number, which is what you should have done. We’re not supposed to keep our cell phones on us during work hours.” “Oh.” Nick sighs. “Describe the playground that you’re at.” I quickly tell him about the leaning swing set, the merry-go-round, and the little playhouse. “I think I drove past that one about

fifteen minutes ago. I’m turning around and headed back to that area.” I release a quick sigh of relief. “Thanks, Nick.” “Are you safe?” “I’m still hiding in the playhouse.” “Good. Stay put until I arrive and call your name,” he orders. “I need to call Blake back, he’s flipping out over the way you disconnected your call with him,” he adds. “Tell him I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to take any chances that the vibration would carry,” I say guiltily. “You did the right thing. It’s just been a hellish hour not being able to contact you. Call me if anyone approaches the

playground before I get there.” “Okay.” “See you soon,” he promises. I end the call and peek out the crack again, verifying that the playground is still empty. Now that I know Nick is on his way, I begin to relax as I wait patiently, watching for headlights. This really is an abandoned area of town, because there’s not a single car in the area, and the few houses that line the street are completely dark. If those guys had found me, I’m betting there wouldn’t have been anyone in the surrounding area to hear me scream. After what feels like forever, but was likely only five or ten minutes,

headlights appear driving slowly down the road. Instead of moving to the door, I watch through the crack as the car pulls over. “Fallon?” Nick calls. I quickly scramble out the door and launch myself to my feet, running across the playground. The driver’s side door opens, and Nick climbs out and strides towards me. As soon as I am close enough, I fling myself at him. His arms wrap around me, and he holds me close, pressing a relieved kiss to the crown of my head. “I’ve been going out of my mind,” he breathes with relief. “Sorry,” I mumble into his neck. “Shit

luck tonight.” “I’d say. Come on, I want to get you out of here.” We pull apart, and I quickly hurry to the passenger door, climbing in. I sink back into the seat, relaxing as Nick pulls away from the curb. “So you went in search of a party tonight,” Nick comments, and I can tell that he’s not happy I’d gone out on my own. “I just wanted a distraction. Not with anyone,” I quickly add. “I just didn’t want to sit around at my aunt’s.” He doesn’t say anything. “Did you hear anything about the shooting?” “It was on the radio. Sounded like it was gang related,” he replies.

“Anyone dead?” I ask softly. “Three.” I blow out a breath, recalling the panic I’d felt as everyone had tried to escape at the same time. “It was really scary.” “I bet it was.” “Are you taking me home?” “No, I’m taking you to my place as long as my dad isn’t home. Blake is headed there, and last I knew, he was twenty minutes away from town yet.” “Blake’s on his way back?” I ask with surprise. Nick glances at me. “You thought he’d stay with his parents?” “Kind of.”

He shakes his head but doesn’t comment further. When we pull up to the trailer, we’re relieved to find that his dad isn’t there. The second we step inside, Nick immediately draws me into his arms once more, pressing me tightly against his hard chest. “You scared the shit out of me tonight.” My arms wrap around his waist, and I press my cheek to his heart, listening to the steady, soothing sound of it beating. “I’m sorry.” Nick pulls back, and I look up only to have his lips touch mine in a sweet kiss. I close my eyes and enjoy the sensual, slow dance of his tongue twining with

my own. The kiss is slow and mindnumbingly delicious. His lips linger a little longer until he gently ends it. I open my eyes, and I peer up at him searchingly. That kiss was different than the ones I’m used to sharing with him. As his slate gray eyes gaze into mine, I know that he’s trying to let me know how much he cares without pressuring me. I smile and stand on tiptoe, giving him a soft kiss on the lips. His lips curve upwards, and he leads me to the couch, his expression sobering. “Tell me what happened tonight.” After we settle comfortably among the cushions, I tell him about everything that had happened. By the time I’m

finished, headlights are flashing through the windows, announcing Blake’s arrival. I watch as Nick rises to his feet and walks to the door, opening it for Blake. With both of them here in the same room, I know I’m going to have to face what I’ve been trying so hard to avoid. Blake steps into the trailer, and the second his dark eyes rest on me, he strides over. I stand, and he pulls me to his chest, hugging me tightly. “Don’t ever do that to me again,” he says lowly into my ear. I nod against his chest. “Nick said they never knew you were there?” he asks, referring to the men at

the park. I shake my head. Blake releases a shuddering breath that has his solid chest trembling against my cheek. “Thank God. I had horrible thoughts when I couldn’t call you back.” I ease out of his hold so that I can look up at him. “I was worried the vibration of the phone might carry. I didn’t want to take any chances,” I explain. He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, and his eyes run over me. “You’re really dirty,” he muses lightly. I am? I look down, and for the first time, I notice that the knees of my jeans are stained with dark smudges, and I’m

betting my butt looks the same. I lift my hands, and they too are dirt-stained. My nose wrinkles. “Ew. It was dark, so I have no idea what was on the floor inside that playhouse.” “Go wash up,” Nick suggests. I look at him, and I bite my lip. He’d just watched me with Blake. His expression isn’t angry, but it’s certainly not pleased. I quickly turn and walk down the narrow hall to the bathroom. As I wash my hands in the sink and run water over my face, my mind races. I’m grateful that Blake and Nick had worked together to make sure I was safe, but I also know that there will be consequences. I won’t be walking out of

this trailer without another discussion about how I’m supposed to choose one of them over the other. They are not going to be happy when I tell them what my decision is. With a grimace, I wipe my hands on a towel and exit the bathroom. I can hear their low, masculine murmurs in the living room, and when I return, they both fall silent as they gaze at me. It’s impossible not to stare back. They are so different, like night and day. Nick stands there in a tee with a skull on the front, his jeans well-worn but sexy as hell, his feet encased in his black boots. Then there’s Blake, who is wearing a white dress shirt with a tie,

and black pants. He looks sophisticated, and all I want to do is pull that tie off and use it to immobilize him so that I can play with his body. I quickly shake off my naughty thoughts. Wanting to put off the inevitable, I focus on Blake. He’s standing a few feet away from Nick, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders relaxed—which is surprising since the sight of Nick typically puts him on edge. “You walked out on your parents?” I ask warily. He meets my gaze. “Yes.” “What did you tell them?” “That a friend was in trouble. They probably knew it was you.”

I worry my bottom lip, wishing I had my lip gloss on me. “They’re going to be mad,” I say with regret. “Fallon, I don’t care. You’re all that matters,” he says simply. I guess it’s not worth worrying over at this point. I look at Nick, and he’s studying me. My eyes dart between him and Blake, and they both look at each other too. An awkward silence falls upon us. “I think we should talk about the elephant in the room,” Nick finally says, breaking it. Yep, I knew it was coming. I need to sit down for this, so I walk over to the couch and sink into the cushions, trying

to pull myself together so that I can explain myself clearly. Nick walks away to retrieve a chair from the table, and it rakes across the linoleum until he brings it into the living room. Blake hesitates and then walks over to sit beside me. Nick situates the chair in front of us, and he straddles it, his expression giving nothing away except for the tightness around his eyes. Both of them direct all their attention on me. My throat is suddenly dry, and I’m nervous over how they’ll react. “I’ve made my decision, and you both are going to have to respect it,” I start out. They both exchange a long look, and

it’s as if they have their own silent way of communicating. I sense a lot was just said between them even though they hadn’t uttered a word. “If you both are insisting that I only see one of you; then you guys can be the ones to make that decision. I’m refusing to choose,” I say simply. I sit back and let them process my announcement as a heavy silence fills the room. Blake looks at me with disbelief as his entire body goes rigid. “You can’t do that, Fallon.” “She just did,” Nick says dryly. “Which means you two figure out which one is walking away…from me,” I say softly.

Blake’s eyes automatically swing to Nick’s. “Fuck that,” he says flatly to him. “I’m not going anywhere. She needs me.” Nick’s eyes narrow ominously. “You don’t think she needs me too?” he asks in a deceptively calm voice. Uh oh. “Guys…” Nick’s eyes suddenly shift to me, and I see anger in their depths. “You wanted this, now you’ve got it.” I draw in a sharp breath as alarm stirs within me. I lean forward, holding up a hand to ward off further accusations from him. “Nick, I don’t want a fight or you two to argue—” “What exactly did you expect,

Fallon?” Blake cuts in. Shit, shit, shit. “I don’t know!” I exclaim. “I just know that I care about you both too much to let either of you go. I can’t make that decision, which means it’s up to you guys.” Blake shakes his head, rising to his feet as he begins to pace. “I’m not walking away,” he says to Nick. “You have no idea what we’ve got going on between us.” “And you think what she and I have is less important?” Nick asks coolly from where he sits. Blake stops short, glaring. “You don’t know the shit she’s dealing with at home. She needs someone like me in her life.”

Nick’s eyes sharpen as he goes still. “So you know about her past?” Blake blinks, looking confused. “What do you mean?” “What are you talking about?” Nick counters back. “Stop it,” I cut in, shooting them both looks. “This isn’t a competition over who knows what. God, I only confide in you guys when I’m actually wanting to. It’s not about keeping you both updated on the same shit,” I say, feeling disgusted with them. Nick’s eyes swing back to me with suspicion. “There’s more going on with your aunt than you’re letting on, isn’t there?”

“It’s never been relevant during our conversations,” I tell him levelly. “So he knows about your past, and yet you refuse to discuss it with me?” Blake’s expression turns wounded as he folds his arms over his chest. I drop my head into my hands. What the hell am I doing? Every time I think I’ve got it all sorted in my head, the guys’ reactions make me feel confused— like I’m doing something wrong with not wanting a regular relationship. Maybe it is wrong. I don’t know. I just know that my heart won’t let me choose, and after my research, what I want makes more sense to me than a monogamous relationship.

Blake sighs. “This is growing more complicated by the minute.” If we’re ever going to work past this difficult conversation, I need to be completely honest with them both. I drop my hands and rise to my feet, walking over to Blake. I touch his arm, my eyes earnest. “I didn’t tell you about my past because I don’t want it to touch us. Maybe it sounds weird to you, but I feel that my past has no place in our relationship. You make me focus on the present, and all the bad stuff fades away. It’s like a huge weight is lifted off my shoulders when I’m with you, and I love how you make me feel. Our future is more important than my past,” I say

softly. “But your past makes up who you are,” he disagrees. “You don’t need to know it to be with me,” I point out. I turn and face Nick, who has risen from his chair, his expression grim. Everything I’d just said to Blake had likely made him feel like shit, and I can’t have him feeling that way. “He’s right, the past does make me who I am, and I can’t ignore the dark parts of me that find it impossible to escape those memories. You understand them, you understand that side of me. When I’m with Blake, I feel like I’m home, but when I’m with you, it’s the same feeling.

Like I belong. You help me understand myself better, and I’m more connected to that part of me when I am with you. The way you make me feel is indescribable.” I look at them both, trying to get them to understand what I see in each of them. “Blake, you’re like a light that beckons me, and I let everything go when I’m with you. It’s the most exhilarating feeling ever, and you bring me a sense of peace that I’ve never had before.” Blake stands there, unmoving, his lips parted slightly. My attention shifts to Nick, who is watching me with those penetrating eyes of his. “And you, you’re the very thing that keeps me stable. You understand the

side of me that needs someone to relate with, and that anger within me, that desperation to feel, you embrace it and make it better. You make me better. Don’t you guys see? You both touch my soul in different ways.” They are silent, and I stand there, my eyes darting between them as I implore them to listen to what I am saying—to try to understand it. “I am one person, and I know I am complicated, but each of you make me better in different ways. You both make me feel good about myself, and I’ve never felt that way before. I see the world differently when I’m with you guys. Maybe I’m too much for one

person to handle, and that’s why both of you ended up in my life,” I say dryly, trying to lighten the mood. “I have no idea why it happened this way, but I do know that I’m not supposed to walk away from either one of you.” Neither one of them make a move to speak, and their expressions are indecipherable. I just bared my soul to them, and my face heats. “So there you go. Make what you want out of what I’ve just said, but that’s the best I can do. I’m not good with sharing stuff, but I’m trying,” I tell them quietly. Nick finally speaks up. “It was… enlightening.”

I look at him tentatively. He looks contemplative as he absorbs everything I’d just revealed. “I don’t know about Blake, but I think I understand now where you’re coming from with all this,” he adds. “You do?” I ask hopefully. He nods, his eyes dark with emotion now. “I get it.” I look at Blake. He shifts restlessly where he stands. “He’s right,” he says reluctantly. “I think we both understand why you want what you want, but does that mean we understand the actual reality of it? That’s still pretty blurred, but at least it’s making more sense than it did

yesterday.” I breathe a huge sigh of relief, not bothering to hide it. “That’s all I wanted was for you both to understand where I’m coming from with what I want.” “It still doesn’t change the fact that we don’t want to share you,” Nick reminds gently. “I know,” I say miserably. “We also have a new problem,” Blake says in a subdued tone. We look at him, and he reaches up to loosen his tie. “I think we should sit down,” he suggests. I glance at Nick, and he’s looking at Blake with a sense of bewilderment. He too has no idea what Blake is thinking.

Blake and I take our seats, and Nick settles onto his chair, his forearms resting on the back of it. He looks at Blake coolly. “What’s this new problem? Haven’t we got enough already?” Blake scrubs his hands over his face. “You heard everything she’d just said, right?” “Yes.” “Then if she ends up with one of us, that means her mind will likely be on the one she lost, wondering if things could have worked out and all that shit. She’ll be missing the other, and if anything, the more she misses him, the more she might resent the one she’s actually with,”

Blake says in a heavy voice. I’m struck speechless, and I look at Nick to see dawning comprehension in his gaze. His jaw tightens, and now he looks frustrated. I’d never even considered how losing one of them would make me feel towards the other, and Blake is trying to look at the situation from both sides. He may not want to acknowledge it, but he is anyway, because that’s the only way this is going to get sorted. “Trust me, it’s not something I even want to think about or deal with, but one of us is going to end up with her, and that’s going to be one of the possible consequences,” Blake adds.

Nick rakes a hand through his dark hair. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “I’m sorry,” I whisper in a hollow voice. There seems to be no end to the problems developing, and I’m the reason for it all Nick looks at me sharply. “Stop apologizing. You can’t help the way you feel, Fallon. We don’t blame you for this, it’s just…not something him or I want.” “I know, and the last thing I want is to force you guys into something that you’re not comfortable with,” I say softly. “Hypothetically speaking, how would it even work?” Blake asks me cautiously.

I blink, and hesitate. “I don’t really know. All I can do is go by how I feel and what instinct is telling me. I know you two don’t want to be around each other, so I would have separate relationships with both of you, like we’ve been doing. The only difference is you guys are accepting my relationship with the other. There can be ground rules set if you want so that everyone is comfortable with the situation.” I look at them both. “We would decide together how to work it out.” Blake is silent now, clearly thinking. “This isn’t really what I want, but it’s something to consider since neither I nor

Blake are willing to walk away,” Nick says grudgingly as he flexes his fingers along the back rim of the chair. My breath stalls. Is this really happening? Blake looks at Nick meaningfully. “Things could always change. Shit happens, you know.” He’s referring to the possibility that the other relationship could crumble and fall apart, leaving me with only one of them in the end anyway. My heart sinks. If we decide to do this, both of them are going to be secretly hoping that the other relationship will fail, but I tell myself I can’t let it bother me at this point. They are willing to explore this for my sake,

and I’m damned lucky with just that. Both Nick and Blake study each other, and it’s as if they are having another silent conversation. I sit quietly, my fingers fidgeting in my lap as I wait to see what they decide. Blake leans back in his seat, looking defeated. “Fine. I’m game, if he is.” Nick slowly blinks, and then shakes his head with a hint of disbelief. “Alright, I’m in.” Holy shit. They’re giving me what I want, but the coming weeks will definitely not be easy. Blake leans forward again, his eyes on mine. “So right now, you feel that multiple relationships fit what you need.

What’s to stop you from deciding you want a third relationship, or a fourth?” Blake asks bluntly “I’d like to know the answer to that myself,” Nick adds. “I haven’t looked at another guy since you two came into my life, but I also can’t predict the future. I don’t know what will happen, but right now, I can assure you both that it’s just you two. No one else.” Blake looks at me broodingly. “So how are we going to do this?” “I don’t know,” I confess. “From what I’ve read, every relationship is different. We would just have to be as open as we can and learn from our

mistakes. Rules are probably going to be a good idea.” “I can tell you right now, I don’t want the three of us to spend time together at the same time,” Blake says in a carefully controlled tone. Nick looks away, his jaw clenching, and his hands have tightened into fists. Blake’s announcement had hurt him. Blake notices too, and he winces. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just meant that I don’t want to see you two together. Right now, that’d be like pouring salt on an open wound,” he explains. Nick visibly relaxes, and I’m relieved that Blake had smoothed things

over. “Okay,” I say, wanting to get back to the business of setting rules. “So I spend time with each of you on my own, no group time. I think that’s reasonable,” I agree. Then I look at Nick. “That okay?” He nods his acceptance. “How about no text messaging or calling Fallon during a time that she’s with the other unless it’s an emergency?” Blake sinks back again, looking dazed. “I can’t believe I am agreeing to this.” “Me neither,” Nick says with resignation. “I know this is going to get complicating, and I’m quite certain I am

going to mess up once in a while, but I can promise you this, when I am with you, you’re the only one on my mind. I’m going to prove to you both that you have no reason to be jealous of the other. I wouldn’t suggest this if I felt that I couldn’t make you both happy,” I state firmly. Both of them are momentarily silent. “What do we do about school?” Blake asks, speaking up once more. “I can answer that,” Nick cuts in. “If anyone finds out she’s seeing both of us, there’s a good chance the fallout is going to land in her lap, and that won’t be pretty. You guys have already kissed in public, I can handle everyone thinking

you are dating. She can see me in private; I’m not much of a socializer anyway,” he says in a detached tone that he likes to use when he’s hiding his true feelings. “I don’t want to hide my relationships with either of you. I’m not ashamed,” I say steadily. “We know,” Blake says. “But Nick’s right.” I look at them uncertainly. “I hate that you both feel pressured into this.” Nick shrugs warily. “Both of us like you too much to give you up, so this is what we’re stuck with.” “What if you guys start resenting me?” I ask worriedly.

“We’ll worry about that if or when it happens,” Nick says with a shake of his head, telling me it’s not worth fretting over at this point. I gaze at both of them, knowing that they are now mine, and my heart constricts. “You have no idea what you both have given me, and I will do everything under the sun to make sure you both are comfortable with this. I will never give you guys a reason to think that I favor one over the other,” I vow. Nick holds my gaze. “This either works, or it’s going to tear us all apart, Fallon.” “It’s going to work,” I say

confidently. Anything else is unacceptable. Everything has changed, and I will do whatever is necessary to keep them in my life. Blake, Fallon, and Nick’s relationships continue in the second installment of their story, Reckless— coming soon! Please consider leaving a review before you move on to the next novel on your device. It is very much appreciated. Thank you!