Chapter 7
APRIL
Rain.
It’s the bane of my existence.
Staring out my apartment door, I want to scream.
It’s not that I hate the rain; I don’t. I actually love it.
However, I despise having to walk in it.
Back home, I’d be dancing in it, laughing, twirling with my arms stretched out.
But not here. Here, it’s nothing but a nuisance when I have to go anywhere.
Sure, I could drive, but what’s the point when I’m only going to the library, and it’s only a five-minute walk?
It started raining last night, not long after I got home.
Thankfully, I’d already stopped in town to grab a few groceries I knew I needed.
More coffee. Lunch meat. Bread. Some flavor packets for water, and a lasagna.
I’ve been craving pasta, and I didn’t want to order from in town. Frozen is just fine with me.
Sighing, I step back and close the door again.
I won’t be going out without my rain jacket and umbrella.
I turn toward the hall closet by the front door, open it, and grab everything I need.
Pulling on my jacket, I pick up my bookbag, keys, and phone, then open the door.
Thankfully, my jacket is light enough that I won’t get hot, and it’ll keep the rain off me.
I could just stick to my umbrella, but there’s still a chill in the air here that wasn’t back home.
So, instead of tank tops and shorts, I’ve got my ripped jeans and T-shirt, paired with my black-and-white Chucks instead of flip-flops.
Taking a breath, I step out of my apartment and into the rain.
It’s not so bad that I need my umbrella, but I have it just in case the rain starts coming down harder.
On the way to the library, I keep my head down, not only to keep the rain out of my face but also to keep anyone from noticing me.
There are several people I know, friends of Samuel’s, who are still here. Those who didn’t go home for the break.
All I want to do is get to the library without any issues from them or anyone else.
Thankfully, I’m able to do just that. When I step through the doors of the massive library, I take a breath of relief.
The library is open 24/7 for students, and there’s usually someone around. Now, though, with so many still gone and on spring break, it’s completely empty. Kind of freaky with no one here.
However, that’s fine with me. At least I don’t have to worry about someone approaching me.
I find a spot, drop my stuff, take off my jacket, and get to it.
I can do this. I simply need to focus on getting my schoolwork done.
If I stay ahead, I can finish early enough that I won’t worry about anything or anyone again.
Then, after graduation, I won’t have to be here anymore.
I won’t have to deal with any more torment.
I won’t have to debate running away or dropping out.
I’ve been so determined not to let them win.
I refuse to let anyone get in my way of finishing what I started, but it hasn’t been easy.
Not in the last four years. This one, though, has been the worst. But I need to get through the next few months.
After spending several hours in the library, I’ve made progress, and I’m happy with what I’ve done so far. Gathering my things, I make my way outside into the cloudy yet now dry afternoon.
Instead of going straight home, I make my way to the coffee shop on the corner.
It’s locally owned and way better than any franchise.
Don’t get me wrong, I love a good pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks, but this place is better than everything else.
The barista here — she’s a master at getting the flavors just right — makes everything from caramel brulé to pumpkin spice, s’mores, and even a cinnamon blend.
Once I have my coffee in hand, I make my way back out into the world, feeling a bit of a pep in my step.
Weird as it sounds, I’m feeling good. I’ve made a dent in my assignment, one I’ll finish before we get back into the classroom.
But feeling this way makes me feel lighter.
Granted, that’s the effect of Margo’s coffee. It always makes me feel this way.
Rounding the corner to my apartment building, savoring the last of my coffee, I falter at the sight of someone sitting on my front steps.
The building itself used to be a house that the owners remodeled into apartments, each with a separate entrance.
There’s even a walkway to the back for those who live on the second level.
But sitting on my little steps isn’t just anyone. It’s someone I didn’t expect to see again.
I certainly wasn’t expecting to see him here of all places. Fool.
I slow my steps, watching him closely, his eyes on me. Only when I get close does he stand to his full height.
“What are you doing here?” I manage to ask without sounding breathless.
The sight of him standing in front of me, wearing jeans that fit him in all the right places, a fitted dark gray T-shirt under his cut, and boots on his feet, makes him look hot.
Hotter than hot. Even better are the shades he’s wearing over his eyes.
Despite the clouds, he's still wearing those dark sunglasses.
I wish he weren’t wearing them so I could see his enchanting emerald-green eyes again. The ones I find so beautiful that they followed me into my dreams the night before.
“You left before you could give me your number,” he says. My eyes drop to watch his lips as he forms each word. “Found out you go to school close by and where you live, so I decided to stop by.”
“You decided to stop by because you didn’t get my phone number?” My heart hammers in my chest at the very idea that he’d even want to do anything of the sort.
“Yep.” He smirks and steps closer. So close I can smell the woodsy cologne on him. It’s heaven. All wood and leather, mixed with spice.
“So, you found out where I live and stopped by.” This makes little sense to me. Why would he . . . Wait a minute? I narrow my eyes and demand, “Were you put up to this?”
“Put up to what?” he asks, one of his brows lifting over his shades.
“Come on, I’m not stupid,” I snap. “I know someone put you up to this. To come out here and check on me.” It’s the only thing that makes sense. If that’s the case, I swear I’m going to lose my mind on whoever put you up to this.
“Nope,” he says, far too easily.
It would be so easy to believe him, but I don’t. I know my best friends and their dads far too well.
“Don’t lie to me,” I whisper, dropping my gaze and shaking my head. “I can’t stand people who lie to me.”
Fool closes the distance between us, reaches out, grips my chin, and tilts my head back, forcing me to maintain eye contact.
The first thing I see as he lifts the sunglasses to the top of his head is the intensity in those green orbs staring back at me.
Well, I don’t know how to decipher the look on his face.
“I don’t want to be someone you can’t stand or think will lie to you, so yeah, they asked me to look into what’s going on with you.
Our club isn’t that far away, only thirty minutes, so it’s not a big deal to come here.
However, I’ll have you know, finding out you’re this close to me .
. . well, there’s no way I couldn’t come see you.
Besides, you left without saying goodbye. ”
“Why?” His admission baffles me more than I care to admit. It also warms a part of me I don’t understand.
“Why what?” he asks, stroking his thumb across my bottom lip.
“Why would you come here to see me if not because you were told to?”
“How about we go inside your place so I can explain that to you?” Fool suggests, dropping his hand, only to take my free one in his.
“Um, okay.” I don’t know why I’m agreeing to let him into my apartment, but that’s what I’m about to do.
Hand in hand, the two of us walk up to my door. I let go of his hand to dig my keys out of the side pocket of my bag and unlock the door. I step inside with Fool right behind me. He closes the door, sealing us inside. Immediately, the air feels a lot thinner than it usually does.
I’ve had no one in my apartment besides Kayla and Mercy, or their parents. And those who came up from the club, like JC or Lo, when they were doing something they felt needed to be done and didn’t trust others to do it for me.
I glance around, seeing everything in order.
Just the way I always keep it—nothing out of place.
My little couch sits as a divider between my kitchen and the rest of the space.
The TV hangs on the opposite wall, placed there by JC when he was here last Christmas.
The kitchen, though, is small and barely big enough for one person, but it works for me.
I need little space. It’s not like I do a lot of cooking or baking in there.
The only important thing is that I have my Ninja coffee maker set up on the small counter. I thrive on coffee while at school.
“Nice place,” Fool mutters, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Thanks,” I tell him, then step back to put my stuff away and take my shoes off.
I’m not one for wearing shoes in my space.
I hate shoes, period, but I wear them out of necessity.
Plus, outside in the world, who knows what you could step into.
The last thing I want is to step into a pile of dog poop.
My upstairs neighbor has a little Shih Tzu that doesn’t care where it goes, including my front step.
And that neighbor barely ever picks up after it.
Usually, I have to clean it up if I don’t want to smell it everywhere.
After putting everything down, I return my attention to Fool only to find him yet again in my space.
It’s not just in my space; he’s in my space. His hands slide around my waist, his head comes down, my head tilts back, and his lips find mine.
Oh. Oh. Oh.
My. God.
Fool kisses me, and it’s nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Lips. Tongue. Control. He’s taking control, dominating as if we were in bed and he were inside me. But how can that be? It’s just a kiss.
Without breaking his mouth away from mine, Fool walks forward as I go backward. Our lips are fused together, his tongue dueling with mine. He stops us at my couch, twists to sit, and brings me with him, my legs going on either side of his waist.
Oh, mighty God, please don’t let this be a dream.