Mercedes
THE DANCEFLOOR WAS jam-packed with an assortment of drunk girls, drunker boys, groping couples, and groups of overly boisterous teenagers from school as they danced, swayed, and basically jumped around like lunatics. I didn’t care about any of them though. I was too busy reveling in the feel of being wrapped up in Rourke.
He’d arrived onto the dancefloor twenty minutes ago and hadn’t taken his hands off me since – or his mouth.
He was kissing me like it was the first time we’d ever kissed; fiercely, possessively, and making me weak with want.
I’d been so stupid to worry about the whole calling me Britt thing and Rourke was letting me know it, looking at me and only me.
He was so big and broad as he rocked against me, pressing his hard muscles against my soft body.
The smell of his cologne filled my senses and I sagged against his chest with my arms wrapped tightly around his neck, allowing my body to sway to the music, as he punished my lips with his own.
I had no freaking clue of what had gotten into Rourke, and I cared even less. His entire focus was on me and being the object of his sole attention was making me feel like a freaking supermodel. Oh, and the erection digging into my stomach for the past twenty minutes? Yeah, that was a major ego boost.
Bad Girlfriend from Theory of a Deadman blasted through the speakers, distracting me from my lust filled thoughts, and I dragged my mouth away from Rourke’s before squealing, “Oh my god. I love this song!”
Turning in Rourke’s arms, I backed my ass up against his crotch and began to twerk, moving my body to the rhythm of the song. This was a dirty, sexy song and my movements mirrored every lyric.
I felt Rourke’s hands clamp around my waist before he twisted me around and dragged me roughly against him. “You shake this for me,” Rourke growled in a warning tone, dropping a hand to squeeze my ass cheek hard. “And no one else.”
Knotting my fingers in the front of his shirt, I pressed my chest against his stomach and leaned up for a kiss. “I know.”
Rourke’s other hand landed on my ass. “You’re mine, Six,” he said, holding me flush to him. “You got it?”
Breathless, I nodded and continued to roll my hips against him. Rourke’s eyes were dark and hooded with desire as he watched me watching him, our bodies grinding against each other.
“Owens, wasn’t this your theme song last year?” some wise ass with a tie wrapped around his forehead called out as he shouldered past Rourke, managing to knock us apart. “See you’ve found a replacement for Britt,” the guy said with a sneer. He swayed on his feet, his words slurred – obviously wasted. “Does this one put out, too?” he asked, nodding in my direction.
“Walk away, Westbrook,” Rourke snarled, pulling my back to his side. “Do it now, Daniel, before I lose my ever-fucking mind and rip your head off.”
“Try it,” the guy taunted. “You know what’ll happen if you’re caught fighting with one of us again.”
Fighting with one of us?
Was he one of the Jefferson boys?
And then the name dawned on me; Daniel Westbrook.
I’d heard that name being tossed around tonight.
He was Jefferson’s quarterback.
What the hell was he doing here, at our school’s homecoming dance?
“I’m here with your ex,” Daniel added, seeming to read my mind, except his attention was still focused entirely on Rourke. “Hey, thanks for breaking her in for me.” Laughing, he added, “It’s becoming our thing, ain’t it, Owens? You do the dirty work and I reap the benefits.” Daniel’s eyes trailed over me and he smiled darkly. “Damn, bet this one’s a freak in the sheets.”
“Fuck you, asshole,” I hissed before turning my back to him. “Come on,” I said to Rourke, placing my hand on his forearm and trying to lead him away “He’s not worth it.”
Instead of ignoring Daniel and coming with me like I expected him to, Rourke shrugged my hand off his. “No,” he snarled, his voice hard. Unyielding. His eyes were…furious. “Go up to our room,” he ordered. “I’ll be up in a minute.”
“Rourke, don’t bother –”
“Just do what I fucking say, Six! Please,” he bit out, jaw clenched, eyes locked on Daniel.
“Well, sweetheart, am I right in thinking you’re a real, bad bitch in the bed?” Daniel called out, focusing his glazed eyes on me. “I ain’t got a room here tonight, but my car’s parked out front if you wanna show me.”
That was it.
That was all it took to make Rourke snap.
Shoving past me in a violent haze, Rourke plowed into Daniel. Both boys went crashing to floor, their fists a blur, and my screams were swallowed up by the hooting and cheering of everyone at the dance who were now forming a circle around the boys.
“Rourke!” I screamed, attempting and failing to shove my way past the circle of onlookers, desperate to get to my boyfriend and stop him from doing something that could potentially get him thrown off his beloved football team. “Rourke, stop!”
Relief flooded my body when I watched a trail of security guards, led by Mr. Trimble, our teacher chaperone for the night, break through the crowd and drag the boys apart.
That relief was quickly replaced with sheer fucking horror as I watched Britt walk right up to Rourke and throw her arms around him.
Rourke didn’t push her off or try and step away from her, either. He just continued to launch slur after slur at Daniel who was being half dragged, half carried out of the room by two security guards, his face a bloodied mess.
If I was just a passerby and didn’t know better, I would have sworn Rourke and Britt were a couple. They looked like a couple with Britt fawning all over Rourke and dabbing her fingers against the cut on his bottom lip, and him standing there, letting her.
And then Rourke was also moving, being escorted from the room by security with Britt hurrying along after him in her pink princess-cut dress and stupid blonde hair.
Rourke
“ROURKE, YOU’RE BLEEDING! Omigod, you’re bleeding!”
“Back the fuck up, Britt,” I warned for the tenth fucking time, jerking my head back from her. I was fully aware I was bleeding.
Westbrook busted my mouth up tonight. My only consolation was the fact that I’d beat him to a pulp. The satisfaction I’d felt when I watched him being helped from the room tonight had somewhat calmed my temper. I was still burning mad though. What he’d said about Six? I should have fucking buried him in the ground.
Motherfucker.
“I’m trying to help you,” Britt hissed, reaching up with a cotton pad to swipe my lip.
“And I told you, I don’t need your goddamn help. Christ!” I snarled, catching her hand and knocking it away. “Why are you even here?” I demanded, gesturing to the small room security had placed me in while management called my father.
Tonight was one of those rare nights I thanked Jesus that Gabe was my father. His name and my mother’s money were the only two reasons I hadn’t been hauled off in handcuffs tonight. My father owned half the town and he was a respected business man. Not by me, but the grown-ups of Ocean Bay seemed to like him and, right now, those were the ones I needed on my side.
Christ, Dad was going to be mad as hell with me when he found out I’d been fighting again. I’d barely gotten off without serving time in juvie last time.
In my defense, what brother wouldn’t beat the shit out of the prick he caught molesting his sister?
Courts didn’t see it that way though…
“I didn’t ask you to come with me,” I added, turning my attention back to Britt. And I certainly didn’t want her here. “So, why don’t you just go?”
“Rourke!” She looked genuinely taken aback. “I’m here because I care about you.” She sniffled, before adding, “Because I still love you.”
I didn’t reply to that because in all honesty, what could I say?
That I hated her?
No.
That I didn’t care about her?
I couldn’t say that either.
“I don’t…” I paused and pinched the bridge of my nose as I searched for the words to make this as painless as possible. I didn’t want to hurt Britt, but I needed her to let me go once and for all. “The boy in me will always love you, Britt,” I finally said with a pained sigh.
“Then take me back, Rourke!” With tears streaming down her cheeks, she continued to beg me “Please. I’m sorry, I am. I’ve learned my lesson. Just take me back.”
“But the man?” I held a hand out, warding her off. “The man in me got over you a long time ago.”
“You don’t mean that,” she cried, taking a step towards me and then two more back.
“I do,” I replied hoarsely. “I’ve moved on, Britt. I’m in love with Mercedes.”
“But you were fighting with Daniel tonight.” she sobbed.
“Because he disrespected Mercedes,” I replied in an exasperated tone. “I hit him for her, Britt. Not for you.” Fuck, this didn’t feel good, but I was done protecting Britt’s feelings. “I’m all in with her,” I added. “One hundred and ten percent, B.”
“You said that about me once, remember?” she shot back, angry and hurt.
“I did,” I agreed. “But I was just a kid who couldn’t tell the difference between loving a girl and lusting after one.” A sob tore from her throat but I continued to speak anyway, knowing we both needed to hear this. “I never loved you like I love her. I’m not saying this to hurt you, or get you back for hurting me. I’m telling you the truth here, B. I see a future with Mercedes. One I never saw with you.”
Mercedes
SWINGING OPEN THE side door of the hotel, I practically threw myself outside. Kicking off my heels, I picked them up and stumbled blindly down the neatly trimmed lawn towards the beach. If I had known today was going to be such a fucking horrible day when I got out of bed this morning, I wouldn’t have bothered shaving my legs.
I couldn’t breathe.
Pain was engulfing me.
I felt winded and broken and fucking crushed.
Why couldn’t Britt just leave him alone?
Why couldn’t Rourke leave her alone?
And why the fuck had I been so stupid as to fall in love with a boy who obviously still harbored feelings for his ex?
“The boy in me will always love you.
The words I had overheard Rourke say to Britt continued to haunt me with every step I took. I couldn’t stand to listen to another word after that. I had bolted from my perch outside the door, desperate to get away from the both of them.
He still had feelings for her. I hated even thinking it, but lying to myself was what had gotten me into this mess in the first place. Deep down inside, I had always known something like this would happen and I had no one else to blame for this but myself.
Rourke had been straight up with me from the beginning. He told me over and over again that this wasn’t long term. I could have backed out at any time. I didn’t. My broken heart was on me.
Pure emotion bubbled up inside of me, the urge to run back into his arms almost overpowering, but I managed to keep going – keep moving away from him.
The moment the country club was out of sight, I lost it.
Dropping to my knees, I doubled over on the sand and screamed.
This was too much.
I felt broken. I knew that sounded pathetic and contrived, but it was the truth.
He was the best thing that had ever happened to me. And I had lost him to a girl who treated him like he was a fucking backup plan.
Boys were fickle, they were a dime a dozen, but I knew I could travel the four corners of the world and never find a boy like him again.
Not in my lifetime.
“Mercedes?” a familiar voice called out in the darkness. “Is that you?”
Turning my face in the direction of the voice, I let out a choked sob when I recognized the familiar blond head. “Oh, hey Mason,” I managed to say just before bursting into tears.
“Damn, sweetheart,” he muttered, concern evident in his voice as he walked over to where I was kneeling. Removing his jacket, he placed it over my shoulders before sinking down on the sand and loosely hooking his arms around his knees. “So, are you gonna tell me what happened at the dance, or am I gonna have to guess?”
“You didn’t see?” I asked, surprised.
Mason shook his head and smirked. “Nah, girl. I ditched ten minutes in when I got an offer from Casey Garza I couldn’t refuse.”
“Gross.”
“Surely whatever happened can’t be worth this amount of tears?” he surprised me by asking.
“He’s still in love with her.” Sniffling, I clasped the lapels of his jacket and pulled them across my chest. My voice was hoarse and raw. I didn’t sound like myself when I spoke. “Rourke. He’s still in love with Britt.”
“Bullshit,” Mason surprised me by saying. “Rourke ain’t no cheat.”
I turned and looked at him. “You didn’t even hear me out.”
“Don’t need to,” Mase replied confidently.
“He got in a fight with Daniel Westbrook over Britt tonight,” I protested, adding evidence to my claim. “I know you think he doesn’t, Mase, but you’re wrong. He’s still in love with her.”
“You’re wrong,” he simply replied.
“I am not wrong!”
“Listen, sweetheart. I know Rourke Owens. And he wouldn’t do that to you.” Frowning, Mason added, “He wouldn’t do that to any girl, but especially not you.”
“What do you mean especially not me?”
“Have you lost your mind inside that pretty head of yours?” he asked, turning to face me. “Rourke’s in love with you.” Smiling, he added, “Hell, the whole world knows it except Rourke – and maybe you.”
“You’re wrong,” I whispered.
“Am I?” Mason countered, raising a brow. “Come on, Mercy James. Do you honestly think I’d sit here and defend Rourke to you if I wasn’t absolutely certain the guy was obsessed with you?”
“Yeah, probably,” I mumbled petulantly. “You guys are friends.”
“Hell fucking no,” Mason shot back with a laugh. “Friend or not, if there weren’t feelings involved, I would be on your fine ass in a heartbeat.”
“Ew, Mase. That’s disgusting.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “What I’m trying to say is, I know Rourke loves you. It’s the only reason I bowed out.”
“Bowed out?” I cocked a brow. “When had you bowed in?”
Mason laughed again. “At the party that night for about five seconds before Rourke walked in and staked his claim on you.”
“I don’t know what to do, Mase,” I admitted quietly. “What should I do?”
“Go back to the hotel and talk to Rourke,” he replied without a hint of hesitation. “Talk the shit out of this with him. Tell him how you’re feeling. I can promise you, sweetheart, you won’t be disappointed.”
“No way. I can’t,” I said, shaking my head in protest before releasing a choked sob. “What if you’re wrong?”
“Damn, you’re as stubborn as he is,” Mase muttered under his breath before climbing to his feet. “Come on. Stand your sexy ass up and I’ll walk you back to your boyfriend.” Turning back to me, he held out a hand and said, “And for future reference, sweetheart? I’m never wrong.”