Rourke
FOR THE REST OF the day, I couldn’t wipe the smug expression from my face. She agreed. Six agreed to take a chance on me. Yeah, she wasn’t overly enthusiastic like I hoped she would have been, but I’d take friendship.
I could work with friendship.
I had a feeling she wasn’t used to this – to guys. Obviously, Six wasn’t a virgin. A girl that looked like her had to have been snatched up long ago, but something about her screamed innocent and I was not going to screw that up. She deserved better. I intended to give that to her.
“You’re looking mighty pleased with yourself,” Daryl noted when we met at our lockers after last period. He looked me over and I watched as a slow grin spread across his face. “You get laid?” he asked, arching a brow. “Is that what you and Sissy were doing when you skipped out of Bio?”
“Daryl,” I warned with a slow shake of my head. “Don’t talk about her like that.”
He frowned. “Like what?”
I paused, wondering what he’d said that had offended me and came up empty. I had no idea why, but this huge surge of possessiveness was shooting through me. I didn’t want anyone talking about Six. I didn’t want them thinking about her. Not even Daryl.
“You have it bad,” Daryl said with a grin. “Oh, man.
“Don’t ask about her,” I finally said. “She’s… not a topic I’m up for discussing, okay?”
“Alright, man,” he replied good-naturedly.
“You still going to Molly’s party after the game tonight?” I asked then, veering the subject away from Six.
“Molly?” Daryl looked puzzled as he rammed his books into his locker. “Who the fuck is Molly?”
“Dude.” I bit back the urge to roll my eyes. Daryl was my best friend, I loved the guy like he was my brother, but he was fucking terrible when it came to girls. “Six’s friend. The petite blonde.” The one with the burns, I mentally added.
Awareness dawned in Daryl’s eyes and he threw his head back and laughed. “Molly? Shit, man, I’ve been calling her Katie.”
“You’re an asshole,” I replied dryly. Girl was completely hung up on him. A blind man could see it.
Daryl shrugged, not bothering to defend himself from what was only the truth.
“Her name is Molly Peterson. She went to school with us until the third grade.”
“Yeah, I’ll head over after the game.” He waggled his brows and grinned wolfishly before slamming his locker door shut. “Should be interesting.”
“Listen, man. I’m not trying to tell you your business or anything, but… be gentle with that girl.” I cleared my throat and looked around the hallway to make sure no one was listening in on our conversation before adding, “She’s been through hell and she doesn’t need you leading her on.”
Daryl frowned and I felt like slapping the douche over the head. “What do you mean?”
“You have the worst fucking memory, Daryl,” I shot back, voice low. “She’s the one whose mom and brother burned in that house fire when we were younger.”
Daryl gaped. “She’s that Molly Peterson?”
I nodded. “Yes, asshole.”
“Didn’t her family move away like eight years ago or something?” he asked, clearly confused.
“They came back,” I hissed, irritated. How did he not know this? “Dude, she came back Sophomore year.”
“Fuck,” Daryl said with an apologetic sigh. “I didn’t know.”
“Well, now you do,” I replied. “So don’t screw around with her.” The girl had been through hell and back.
Surviving the house fire that had claimed her mother and little brother’s lives couldn’t have been easy on Molly.
I remembered when it happened. It had been fucking horrible. All of the kids in Molly’s class had attended her mother and brother’s joint funeral.
It was a really bad fucking day.
“Dad sold Mr. Peterson the house down on Seaport Front,” I explained, drawing myself from my thoughts. “The one a mile or so down the shoreline from our house.”
“She doesn’t look like before.” Daryl frowned, obviously remembering back to that period in our lives.
“Yeah.” What Daryl meant was Molly didn’t look burned. “It’s mostly on her arms and legs,” I explained, reeling off what Amelia had once told me.
“So, it’s just Molly and her father now?”
I nodded. “As far as I know.”
“Goddamn,” Daryl muttered, shouldering his bag. His brow was set in a deep frown. “God fucking damn.”
I had a feeling from the look on Daryl’s face that his plans for tonight had taken a drastic turn. “Don’t tell me you’re that fucking vain, dude,” I growled, looking at my friend with a disgusted expression.
“Huh?”
“The burns.” I cocked a brow. “You’re bailing tonight, aren’t you?”
Daryl looked stunned as he registered my words. “Are you serious?” he finally hissed, tone angry. “You think I’m that fucking superficial?”
I shrugged but didn’t respond.
We both knew he was.
“I liked that girl when we were kids,” he shot back, voice laced with heated vindication. “She was –” He paused for a moment before saying, “sweet.”
I raised a brow. “Sweet?”
“Shut the hell up,” Daryl grumbled. “You just go ahead and worry about banging your stepsister and leave her friend to me.”
Mercedes
“HOW IS YOUR FIRST WEEK at school going, sweetheart?” my mother’s soft, girly voice filled my ears as I was making my way to the parking lot after school on Thursday. “Did you make friends? What are your classes like?”
“I survived,” I replied, biting back the urge to say if she really cared she would have been here or, at the very least, would’ve called me on Monday. “Classes are fine.” I leaned against the hood of my car and sighed. “And I’ve already made a friend. Molly, remember?”
“Just her?” I could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Mercy, you should be making lots of friends.”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re not all like you, head cheerleader.”
“Those were the best days,” Mom sighed dreamily, and I had to fight back the very real urge to puke.
“So, you guys will be back next week, right?”
Long pause.
Not good.
“Mom?” I pressed, holding my phone a little tighter to my ear. “You’re still coming home next week, right?”
“Yes, Mercedes. We’ll be home next week,” Mom shot back, tone sullen, and I knew right there she was pouting. I could read the woman like a book.
“Good. So, um, how’s the uh, pregnancy coming along?” I grimaced at my words. Pregnancy. Yuck.
“Wonderful. I’m only four and half months along but I’m so big already,” she replied with a giggle. Yep, the woman was thirty-three years old and still giggled. Ugh. “Gabe is being so attentive.” Lowering her voice to a whisper, she said, “He’s like an animal lately. Can’t seem to get enough of me.”
I shuddered at the thought. “Too much information, Mom.”
She laughed at my protest like it was the funniest thing I’d ever said.
It wasn’t.
Mom needed to remember we weren’t friends. She was the parent in this relationship and I didn’t need to know about her sex life.
“How is Rourke treating you?” she asked then, thankfully changing the subject. “Is he being nicer to you?”
Dammit, not this subject!
“Um…yeah,” I squeezed out, feeling the burn in my cheeks spread all the way down to my toes. “Rourke and I are actually sort of…cool now.” It was a lie. A big, fat lie that caused my face to burn and palms to sweat, but I couldn’t exactly tell my mother that her stepson was being nice to me because he wanted to get into my pants. I had a feeling that wouldn’t go down well.
“Cool?” Mom squealed excitedly. “Are you two friends now?”
I think I love him. I stopped myself from blurting that little tidbit; telling my mother that particular fear would be too traumatic. It would make it too real. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him, dammit. “Um… I guess you could say that?”
“Oh, honey, you have no idea how happy you’ve just made me.”
I frowned in confusion. “I have?”
“Yes,” Mom confirmed, sounding genuinely delighted. “Gabe will be so relieved,” she added. “Rourke has struggled to accept anyone in their lives since his mother died. You two being friends?” She sighed happily. “Is a big step for him.”
“I guess,” I muttered, feeling like a fake. Rourke didn’t want to be my friend. He wanted to sleep with me. I, in turn, was harboring some pretty intense feelings for him.
I didn’t believe in love. I was a realist – I always had been.
I’d spent my life watching my mother fall in love over and over again. I knew that I wanted no part of something that was so easily bent and broken.
But Rourke?
What I felt for him scared the hell out of me.
I wasn’t stupid, and knew the chances of Rourke actually meaning what he had said were slim, but dammit, those words were imprinted on my brain. I couldn’t stop thinking about it… about him.
Did agreeing to this weird ‘friends with benefits’ thing make me a slut?
Probably.
Did it make me pathetic?
I was certain it did.
Did I care?
Not enough to change my mind.
A blonde head of curls entered my peripheral vision then, causing me to lose my train of thought.
“Uh, Mom, I have to go,” I muttered, watching Britt and her minions stalk towards me. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
Mentally preparing for an ass kicking, I tipped my chin up and stared straight back at the blonde bitch giving me the evil eye.
“Can I help you?” I’d managed to avoid Brittany Beckitt all week and I had been hoping to continue that. Unfortunately for me, Britt looked as though she had other ideas.
“Help me?” Her finely pointed brows rose in surprise. “No, sweetie, there’s nothing on the face of this earth you could possibly help me with.” Stopping less than a foot from me, she placed her hands on her slender hips and narrowed her gaze down at me. “But let me give you some advice; stay away from Rourke or we’re going to have a problem.”
“News flash,” I shot back, forcing down the urge to roll my eyes at the sheer stupidity of this girl. “I live with Rourke.”
She scowled down at me. “You know what I mean.”
Of course I knew what she was talking about.
I just didn’t care.
“No.” I shook my head and smirked. “I don’t think I do.”
“Rourke’s mine,” Britt hissed, leaning closer to me. “We’re going through some stuff right now, but don’t for one moment think that means he won’t come back to me.” She moved closer, until her lips were close to my ear. “He always comes back to me.”
Playing down how unnerved I was by her words, I smiled brightly up at Britt and said, “Maybe that’s because he hasn’t had a better offer until now.”
What was I doing?
Why was I taunting her?
I never cared about shit like this. High school was a circus and bitchy girls and bullies were the monkeys, orchestrated by a ring leader. It was glaringly obvious that the ring leader in the Academy was Brittany Beckitt. The rest of the student body were her monkeys. Well, not me, and this girl right here, wasn’t worth my time.
“If you even think about taking him from me, I will destroy you,” Britt threatened, eyes glittering with menace.
“He’s not yours to take,” I replied coolly. “Now back the hell off.”
“Don’t push me on this, Mercedes James,” Britt warned. “You really don’t want to get on my bad side.”
Now, I rolled my eyes; I couldn’t help it.
She was such a delusional bitch.
“Listen, bitch,” I hissed. “I don’t know what went on between you and Rourke, and I really couldn’t care less.” Turning my back on her, I yanked my car door open and sank in. “But it’s pretty clear that whatever it was, it’s over.”
“It’s not over,” Britt hissed. “Me and Rourke? We will never be over and you’re a fool if you believe otherwise.”
Ignoring her, I cranked the engine and tore out of my parking spot, determined to get away from the crazy blonde I had a bad feeling had just declared war on me.