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by Ashley Jade
We both know that’s not the case.
Or is it? I’m almost positive Bianca’s lying about Sawyer messing around with her boss, but on the off chance it’s true, it’s going to pose a big problem for me.
But I can’t think about that right now. I have more important things to worry about.
Turning on the charm, I flash her a smile. “To tell you how beautiful you look tonight.”
Those big brown eyes study me like I’m bacteria under a microscope for several seconds before she bats her eyelashes.
“Really?”
Shit. This is going to be easier than I thought.
Nodding, I move to the other side of the tub so I can be closer to her.
“That sweater really brings out your…” Pausing, I peruse her curves from head to toe before lingering on those juicy tits. Christ. It’s like they’re begging to be in my mouth. “Ti—eyes,” I finish, catching myself in the nick of time.
I’m not sure what to make of the expression on her face. For a moment, I think she’s going to punch me, but to my surprise, she blushes.
“You’re so sweet.” Biting her lip, she whispers, “But why are you suddenly being so nice? I thought you hated me?”
“I don’t hate you.”
There have been times where her holier than thou attitude and ability to see right through me have annoyed the ever-loving fuck out of me, but I never once hated her.
On the contrary. She amuses me and I relish getting under her skin.
Plus, the look of condemnation she gives me whenever I go too far never fails to make my dick hard.
She might act like she’s repulsed, but deep down, I know she’s curious.
Since complimenting her is getting me nowhere and I need to speed things along, I try a different tactic. “So, I have a problem and I was hoping you could help me with it.”
I can tell I’ve piqued her interest because she arches an eyebrow. “What kind of problem?”
“Well, there’s this girl.” I hold her gaze. “She’s not my type and we’re all wrong for each other, but I’m fucking crazy about her.”
“Oh.” She swallows hard. “I’m not really sure what—”
“I’m afraid to tell her how I feel because I’m scared she might not feel the same way.” I give her an earnest look, luring her in a little more. “What do you think I should do?”
She shuffles her feet. “I don’t know.” Those baby browns cut through me like a hot knife through butter. “Perhaps you should start by being honest with her.”
There’s a slight edge tacked on to the end of that sentence and I’m not sure why.
“You’re right.” Standing so I’m eye-level with her, I place my hands on the edge of the tub. “Be my girlfriend, Sawyer Church.” I flash her a coy smirk. “How’s that for honesty?”
Her eyes widen. “Oh my God. You can’t be serious right now.” A cynical laugh pops out. “We haven’t even gone on a date.”
Undeterred, I run a finger down her arm. “Okay. Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t.” Shaking her head, she takes a step back. “I mean…I can’t.”
I’m not sure what’s going on here, but I feel like I’ve been booted out of the driver’s seat and the train is starting to veer off track.
I don’t like it.
“Why?”
Averting her gaze, she says, “I’m not allowed. My parents…you know, being Jesus freaks and all, won’t let me.” Her teeth sink into her lower lip. “Not unless you ask their permission.”
Record. Skip.
“Let me get this straight. In order to date you, I have to ask your parents’ permission first?”
Meeting parents isn’t my thing. Hell, the only reason I met Casey’s is because they showed up at my games.
Nodding, Sawyer takes a step closer. “That would be a start.”
“A start?” I all but croak out.
I’m asking their daughter out on a date. Not proposing marriage.
“I’m sorry, but if my parents don’t like you, we can’t date. That’s just the way it is.”
Well, fuck me.
“But if they do, you’ll definitely date me?” I clarify.
I’m not going through this song and dance unless I have a guarantee.
Edging closer, she skims her finger along my chest.
It’s a move that draws all my focus elsewhere.
Closing the distance between us, I cup her cheek. “Is that a yes?”
She’s so silent you could hear a pin drop.
My heart hammers in my chest when she leans in. “I wouldn’t date you if you were the last guy on earth, asshole.”
Before I can fully process her statement, white hot pain shoots through my groin and she shoves me.
I’m so caught off guard I fall right back into the hot tub.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I sputter to her retreating back. “I confess my undying love for you, ask you to be my girlfriend, agree to meet your goddamn parents…and you punch me in the balls?”
Nostrils flaring, she turns. “Cut the crap. I know about the bet you made with Cortland, you motherfucking arrogant, selfish, good-for-nothing piece of douchebag shit.”
Son-of-a-bitch. Which fuckface on my team told her?
“Wow,” I note, climbing out of the tub. “How very Christian of you.”
That only fires her up more.
“Don’t you dare.” She points an accusatory finger at me. “I always knew you were a jerk, but agreeing to that bet was low. Even for you.”
She marches toward the house, but I grab her elbow.
“How did you find out? Did Courtland tell you?”
She balls her fists. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” This time when she looks at me, her eyes are glassy. “How I found out doesn’t matter. What matters is how much you hurt me. How much you keep hurting me.”
Remorse—the genuine kind—infiltrates my chest. “Tell me what I can do to fix it.”
“You can start by leaving me alone and never talking to me again.”
She heads for the patio door again, but I stop her. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
She looks at me like I’ve just asked her to drink the water in Mexico. “What part of never talk to me again don’t you understand?”
I get she’s upset, but she’s not looking at the big picture.
“You said you wanted honesty, right? Well, the only way I can give you that is if you stop walking away and hear me out.” I hold her gaze. “What I did was wrong.”
She studies me for several agonizing seconds before she waves a hand. “And?”
Isn’t me admitting I was wrong enough?
“That’s it. That’s all I got.”
She pushes me out of the way. “You’re ridiculous.” Rage flashes in her orbs. “Did you really think I would fall for your stupid flirty bullshit?” She laughs to herself. “Oh, God. Of course you did. You probably thought the fat girl would be so desperate for your attention she’d fall at your feet, huh?”
Whoa. This is an unhinged side of her I’ve never seen before. “You’re not fa—”
“Fuck you.” The finger in my face is back. “I was there when you declared it to the whole entire school, remember?”
She doesn’t understand. If I hadn’t done that, everyone would know something happened between us. “I didn’t—”
“No. Don’t stand there and try to defend or excuse what you did in order to get me to go along with your dumb bet.”
Swallowing my pride, I whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“Take your apology and shove it, Covington. I want nothing to do with you. Not now. Not ever.”
My stomach knots. I’m losing.
I can’t lose.
“Then make me pay,” I say in a last-ditch effort before she leaves. “If you agree to be my girlfriend, it would not only make me eat my words publicly, it would give a giant middle finger to everyone who ever made fun of you. All the people who think you’re
not pretty or skinny enough to land a guy like me.”
Chapter 15
Sawyer
Just when I think it can’t get any worse…it does.
“Good Lord, you’re conceited.”
My nemesis nods. “True, but you can’t deny how good it would feel to see the expression on Casey and her little minions’ faces when they find out we’re together.”
I hate the tiny part of me that agrees with his statement. But it’s still not a good enough reason to help him.
Not after what he’s done.
“Sorry, champ. There’s nothing you can say to make me change my mind about dating you.”
“What if I give you money?”
Jesus. That’s downright insulting. “Do I look like some kind of hooker?”
The expression on his face would be endearing if he wasn’t such a dick. “I didn’t…that’s not what I meant.”
Popping my hands on my hips, I glare at him. “Then what exactly did you mean?”
He blinks. “You’re poor, right?” Before I can scream my head off, he holds up his hands. “I’m not trying to insult you. I’m just stating facts.”
“Oh, well, I have a few facts for you, sunshine.” I start ticking things off with my fingers. “One, you’re a—”
“Motherfucking arrogant, selfish, good-for-nothing piece of douchebag shit,” he finishes, repeating my words back to me. “Duly noted.”
Evidently, the boy can listen.
“Great.” I gesture to the door. “I’m going inside. Don’t follow me.”
I’ve barely taken a step when he calls out, “Sawyer, wait.” Grabbing me by the shoulders, he spins me around. “I know I don’t deserve your help, but I need it. I need you.” He comes closer. Too close. “Tell me what I have to do to get you.”
The ice around my heart starts to thaw a little.
“Tell me something real,” I utter, my heart in my throat. “Something that hurts.”
For the last three years, I’ve wanted nothing more than to crack Cole Covington wide open and see what’s inside.
The real him.
Not the fake version he shows everyone else.
He opens his mouth to speak, then clamps it shut.
“Never mind.” I detest the disappointment brewing in my chest. Just this once, I was hoping he’d prove me wrong. “I should have known better.”
“I can’t—”
“Can’t…or won’t?”
“Can’t,” he whispers.
“Then that makes two of us.”
The look he gives me pierces my soul. “My—” A group of people walk out onto the patio at that moment.
“Lucky Seven!”
Without missing a beat, Cole juts his chin at the group. “What’s good?”
Whatever. I’m so over this.
I start toward the door yet again, but his hand swallows mine and he tugs me toward the tiny outdoor changing room.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Not bothering with a response, he shoves me inside and closes the door behind us.
The small space is cramped enough as it is, but with two of us in here, it’s almost suffocating.
I go to flick on the light, but he stops me.
“No.”
“I don’t have time for your stupid games, Cole. Let me out.”
“This isn’t a game.”
“Then what is it?”
“Me being real.” My breath hitches when he places my hand over his wildly beating heart. “But I should warn you…it’s dark inside.”
Chapter 16
Cole
Past…
“Mom,” I say for what must be the hundredth time in the last five minutes.
Ignoring me and the paper I’m trying to show her, she continues furiously cleaning the house.
She must be feeling better today.
Last week she was in bed for four days while our dad was away on a work trip. Jace had to feed us and do the laundry.
He claimed she was sick, but she didn’t sound sick.
She sounded sad.
As usual, my older brother was trying to protect us from the truth.
Something was wrong with our mom, but it wasn’t something you could see.
Just like a secret superpower, it was invisible.
Only instead of making her strong and powerful…it made her weak and fragile.
I’m pretty sure it also made her hate me.
It never made her hate Liam though.
“Mom.” Feeling frustrated, I shove the paper into her hand. “Can I do this? Please?”
Finally, she looks at it.
I’ve never been good at anything. Unlike my siblings, I don’t get good grades and I have a hard time staying interested in stuff for very long.
But the day Jace threw me a football and I caught it—it was like something inside me clicked into place.
I was meant to do this. It was in my blood. My soul.
And when I saw the poster at my school for peewee football, I knew it was fate.
She has to say yes.
“No.” She screws up her pretty face. “Football is dangerous, and I don’t have time to take you to practice.”
I wanted to argue that if she spent less time lying in bed, she would, but I already had it covered.
“You don’t have to. Jace said he would take me.”
There. She couldn’t say no.
“It’s dangerous.”
“I’ll be safe. I’ll wear all the equipment and everything. Promise.”
I can tell she wants to cave. She just needs a little push.
I give her my best puppy eyes. “Please, Mom. I really want to play.”
“Play what?”
Liam. Leave it up to him to swoop in just when I was making some progress.
He and Bianca usually sleep in whenever they get the chance, so I figured morning would be the perfect time to approach her.
Guess I was wrong.
“None of your business,” I snarl before turning my attention back to Mom. “Please.”
“I don’t know.” She looks at Liam. “Do you want to play football with your brother?”
My stomach fills with lead. This can’t be happening. My future with football shouldn’t rest on his shoulders.
“No—” Liam starts to say at the same time I yell, “Come on, Mom. We’re not five. We don’t always have to do the same things.” I glare at my brother. “Besides, everyone knows Liam sucks at sports.”
Just the other day, Ben Phillips whacked him in the face with a dodgeball and made Liam cry in front of everyone.
Not that I was surprised. The wuss was always crying about something or someone.
Namely me.
“That’s not true,” Liam whines, his lower lip trembling.
Case in point.
“How many times do I have to tell you to stop making fun of your brother?” my mother scolds as he runs into her open arms.
“Yeah, Colton,” Liam sniffles, nuzzling his head against her chest.
He’s the only one who ever calls me by my real name, and I hate it.
Which is exactly why he continues doing it.
“Shut up, you big baby.”
Twin or not, I can’t stand him.
Every day I wake up wanting to bash his face in for existing.
For being everything I’m not.
Ever since the womb, he’s been stealing my thunder.
According to our mom, our parents didn’t even know we were twins until a few weeks before we were born.
Apparently, Liam had been blocking me during the ultrasound visits.
No surprise there.
It wasn’t until my mom insisted something was wrong, due to her gaining so much weight and being so tired she could barely stand, that they finally found me.
Behind Liam.
Too bad I didn’t eat him.
If I had, I wouldn’t have been subjected to the Liam show from the moment I to
ok my first breath.
Approximately two minutes and twelve seconds after he did. Go freaking figure.
Like always—he took center stage.
Liam was the one my mother wanted.
The twin she knew about.
The one she was excited to have.
And she’s not the only one. Everyone in our family acts like he’s some kind of saint who poops rainbows and sunshine.
But he’s not.
I see the real Liam for everything he is…or rather, everything he isn’t.
“Cole.”
I knew that tone. It was a warning my mom was reaching the end of her fuse. I had to act quickly.
“Please, Mom. I’ll do anything.”
She runs her fingers through Liam’s hair. “How did you do on your math test last week?”
Panic lodges in my throat and my palms grow sweaty. I flunked.
But she doesn’t have to know that yet. I can spill the beans after she signs me up.
“I don’t know,” I say, giving Liam a death glare. “Mrs. Myer hasn’t graded them yet.”
Her lips twist. She’s contemplating.
I meet Liam’s eyes. I loathe him, but there’s no denying this weird twin connection we have.
He better keep his mouth shut.
I didn’t have to tell him how much I loved football for him to know it’s true.
I need this. I telepathically communicated, hoping he’ll understand.
I was dying inside. Little by little with every passing day.
However, with a ball in my hand…life wasn’t so bad.
It was the one and only time I was free to be myself.
The one and only thing Liam couldn’t take away from me.
“Yes, she did,” Liam tattles and it takes everything in me not to throttle him.
My mom places her hands on her hips. “Why did you lie to me, Cole?”
Another lie is prepared to roll off my tongue, but it’s too late.
“Because he failed,” Liam tells her.
I swear I see a hint of a smirk on his stupid face.
“It was a really hard test,” I exclaim.
She huffs. “Did you study?”
No. “Yes.”
“Liar,” Liam whispers under his breath.
She looks down at him. “What did you get on the test?”