Chapter 28
“ A re you sure your dad’s not gonna be mad when he finds out you took off?” Bo asks me. Bending, his faded jeans stretch tight over his ass as he gathers a stone from the shore.
“I told your aunt where we were going.” I try not to stare at him. With the sun setting over the water behind him, his entire frame from his wide shoulders to his scuffed Dr. Martens is silhouetted in celestial gold.
“Sure, that was the responsible thing to do.” He selects another stone from the shore. “But you didn’t leave with just anyone. You left with me.”
“Why would that make a difference?” I ask.
“You do remember that your dad hates me?” He turns around to fully face me, and my breath catches. With his heart-arresting green and gray eyes, his tousled brown hair, and his classically sculpted features, Bo Jackson is easily the most handsome boy I’ve ever seen.
“I’m not sure hate is the correct word.” I tip my head back to maintain his gaze. Even though he’s standing lower on the sloped shoreline, he’s taller than me.
“He hates me.” His voice drops an octave, and that dip registers low and warm in my belly. “Trust me on that.”
“Why?” I tilt my head to an inquiring angle as he stares at me as if he’s noting differences in the way I look since the last time he saw me too. “Has something happened that you’re not telling me?”
“Only that I wish you had told me about your glasses.” His biceps flex as he leans to the side and releases a stone, making it skip across the tranquil surface of the lake. “You look incredible wearing them, by the way.”
“You’re just being nice.” I brush off the compliment that makes me tingle inside. It means a lot coming from him, but it doesn’t have the power to erase the pain from all the insults.
“I’m not nice.” He frowns.
“You’re nice to me.” I drag my gaze up from his perfectly chiseled lips. Every time he speaks, my attention is drawn to them.
“Your dad doesn’t think so.” He shakes his head. “And he’s going to be pissed if he finds out you were spending time with me today.”
“Only because he thinks you’re a bad influence on me,” I grumble.
“He’s right. I am.” He glances away, his hand going to his stomach where Mark punched him.
“You’re hurt.” My lips turn down. He got hurt defending me. My dad doesn’t understand how wrong he is about Bo. “You should let me have a look. Maybe?—”
“No way.” His gaze on mine, he waves me off. “I’ve had worse.”
I don’t like the idea of that.
“When?” I step closer. “At school?”
“I attend a military school for troubled boys.” Bitterness creeps into his tone that curls his upper lip. “What do you think?”
“I think kids can be cruel. At your school and mine.” Unable to resist the urge to touch him, I smooth a wayward strand of brown hair away from his gorgeous eyes. His hair is silky soft, and within his gaze, I find pain that mirrors my own. “I’m sorry you got hurt. At your school. And on my account today.”
“I hate that you’re being bullied.” He captures my hand before I can return it to my side. “I had no idea. I wish you had told me.”
“I wish you had told me what you were going through too.” I gnaw on my lip. It seems we’re both holding back things, but with him right here, I don’t want to pretend anymore. “The way Mark and the others treat me at school makes me feel weak and pathetic,” I blurt out the ugly truth. “And sometimes, I wonder if they might be right. Maybe I am a loser.”
“You’re not weak,” he disagrees, his tone adamant. “And you’re not a loser. You’re one of a kind. If anyone is a loser”—he points at himself—“it’s me.”
“No way,” I breathe. Taking his hand, I squeeze it. “I think you’re brilliant.”
“Failing my classes brilliantly, maybe,” he quips.
“I can help with your schoolwork.”
“That’s okay.” He looks down at our joined hands. “You do enough.”
“I don’t do anything.” I thread our fingers together and sigh. “I hate you being so far away.”
“I hate it too.” His tongue darts out to moisten his distracting lips. “It was worth every hour on the bus to get to see you.”
“Is that how you got here?” Staring at his mouth, I think about kissing him again and my pulse quickens.
“Yeah.” He nods, and the swath of hair I smoothed flops forward again, shadowing his gaze. “My dad didn’t want me here, so I used my own money for a ticket.” His gaze narrows. “I tried talking to him today. I told him about all the practicing I’ve been doing. I told him I learned every fucking chord of Tempest’s new song, but he refused to let me play with them.”
“Things aren’t any better with him?” I ask.
“Fuck no.” He raises a dark brow. “How about you with yours?”
I shake my head. “They’re worse.”
“I’m sorry, PJ.”
“It’s okay.” I glance away.
“Don’t lie. Not to me.” He tugs on my hand. “Give me your eyes, pretty girl.” Getting me where he wants me, he gently turns my head and lifts it.
“I don’t want your pity,” I admit softly.
“I don’t pity you. Far from it. You’re the most important person in the world to me. The only one on this miserable planet I can really talk to.” He lightly touches my nose. “I hope you feel that way about me. I want you to be able to share anything with me.”
“I want to.” I want to share everything with him, even the really humiliating stuff.
“Peace, baby.” He frames my face.
“Yes?” I ask, my skin shimmering from his touch.
“Hold still.” He brushes the edges of my lips with his thumb. “I need to do something.”
“Okay,” I agree in a hushed whisper. The sudden glimmer of intensity within his gaze mesmerizes me. I’m dizzy with his woodsy and citrusy scent swirling around me.
“Been wanting to do this for a while.” He lowers his head. Is he finally going to kiss me? I place my hands on his chest and go up on my toes. His muscles are hard and his skin is warm beneath his cutoff T-shirt. The air crackles between us. Hoping I’m finally going to know what it’s like to be kissed by him, I start to close my eyes.
“Peace!” my dad yells, and I jump. Bo’s hands fall away. Cold air rushing over me, I want to cry.
The moment ruined; I turn my head in the direction of my dad’s voice.
“Peace!” Dad shouts again. “Where are you?”
“Fuck, he’s coming this way.” Bo takes a step backward and sweeps me behind him.
“What the hell is going on?” My dad crashes through a break in the overgrown bushes that separate the manicured lawn around the house from the lake. My eyes widen when I see how mad he is. Glancing back and forth between Bo and me, he dislodges stones as he marches toward us. The stones knock together like my knees do. They cascade down the embankment as he comes closer. “What the hell are you doing? Alone out here with Bo in the dark?”
“It’s not dark.” I latch onto the one thing I can deny.
He makes a scoffing sound.
“We were just talking,” I mumble.
“Talking about the mountain of trouble Bo has gotten himself into, I’m sure.” Dad grabs my arm and pulls me away from Bo.
“What trouble would that be?” Bo asks.
“Does the name Mark Lewis ring a bell?” Dad counters with a question of his own.
“Douche had it coming.” Bo jerks up his chin.
“How do you figure that?” Dad’s brows draw together.
Bo glances at me, then rolls his shoulder. “Maybe I just didn’t like the look of him.”
I frown at Bo. That’s not really the case, but I know what he’s doing. He’s lying to protect me.
“Not the guy you should have tangled with.” Dad shakes his head. “If his looks irritated you, then you should have found somewhere else to put your eyes. Mark’s dad is the chief of police, and he’s up at the house looking for you.”
“Why?” Bo asks while maintaining his belligerent stance.
“He wants to talk to you about what happened to his son,” War replies. “Your dad and mom are up there too. So are the parents of the other boys involved.”
“Fuck.” Bo’s hands form fists at his sides.
“Yeah.” Dad nods. “This is a fucking mess.”