His Stubborn Girl (“HIS” #6)
Chapter 1
Torrin
My foot pauses on the step and the railing gets strangled under my grip. His door is open and there’s noise coming from within. I just passed Mom in the kitchen making dinner, and Walter’s in his office, which means… he’s here . I didn’t think he was coming. I was hoping he wouldn’t. But I’m guessing his dad demanded he be here for my graduation.
A coup rises inside my stomach as my nerves wage their war. I look back down the stairs at the front door. I could make a run for it. Hide at Kami’s house tonight. Stay there until he leaves town. But then Mom comes walking in, staring right up at me and gives me away.
“Hey, Torre, do you want rice or potatoes with the roast tonight?”
I don’t want anything. My nerves are taking up every crevice of my stomach. I’d rather hide in my room than sit at the table across from Lukas. Having to form a coherent thought and participate in a conversation isn’t something I’m ready for. But our parents won’t let me get out of dinner. It’s the first time he’s been home since Christmas. They’ll want us all to be together. One big happy family.
“Potatoes,” I tell her, knowing they’re Luke’s favorite. He likes them with a little butter and a sprinkle of Italian seasoning, and a dollop of sour cream on top. The details are ingrained from when we were kids. I used to think it was gross that he wanted herbs—which I always pronounced with the h —on his potatoes. I wish I could also remember the feelings that went along with those memories, but my body seems to have blocked them out. All I remember is the way I felt when I saw him last month.
“Potatoes it is. Did you see the surprise?” She looks toward Lukas’s open door, and I nod, forcing the smile.
I certainly did, and indeed it was a surprise. My entire system is frozen in shock. Overwhelmed and practically shaking. I didn’t have time to prepare for this. I wish someone had warned me he was coming so I could mentally gear up. Though, it was probably a shock to them too that he actually showed. Family is no longer a priority to him. They were probably expecting him to cancel and make promises that he’ll come in as soon as he can get away from his “busy” life. I would’ve been fine with a congratulations text. He can go back to the girls and his teammates, and I’ll be able to breathe again.
I turn, knowing that it’s time to face the inevitable. The sooner I can figure out how to be in the same room with him, under the same roof, breathing the same air, the better.
“Hey.” I step up to his door, clinging to the wooden frame to keep myself steady. “Did you just get home?” I wish my voice wouldn’t sound so unsteady, and that my cheeks wouldn’t feel so hot. He’s going to wonder what’s wrong with me. I could always blame it on being sick. After all, that’s what I am. A sick and twisted human being.
“Hey, Torre.” He turns, and the butterflies lift their wings and make a whoosh inside my stomach, beginning their violent dance. He cut his hair since the last time I saw him, and his chin is covered in scruff like it’s been a few days since he shaved or maybe he’s trying to grow a beard. He looks older. Sexier.
And I feel sicker.
“Traffic was bad, or I would’ve been home hours ago. Did you just get back from school?”
“Yep. Just two days left and then I’m done.” I force the excitement in my voice, but I don’t want high school to be over. I’m going to miss my friends. And Student Council. Pep rallies. And cheer. That’s what I’ll miss the most. Games on Friday nights. The excitement. The adrenaline. The crowd cheering as I land my triple in the middle of the field. “Thanks for coming, by the way.”
In spite of my awkward feelings, it’s good to know he doesn’t hate me. He was so mad the last time we saw each other, I didn’t think he’d ever speak to me again. Though, maybe it’d be easier if he didn’t.
“I never would’ve missed your graduation, sis.”
Sis. That word used to be so sweet, made me feel special, and now it sits like sour milk, curdling in my stomach, making me feel sicker.
The awkwardness is growing expansive, and I don’t know what to say. Or how to make it stop. I just want to rewind back to a month ago. Back to when everything was normal. Back to when I could look at him without all these intense feelings swarming in, messing with my mind.
“Well, I’ll let you get unpacked.” I turn to go to my room, needing some fresh air. A distraction. A moment alone with my nerves.
“That’s it. You aren’t even going to give your big brother a hug?”
My feet almost break out into a sprint down the hall, but I don’t need him to come questioning what my problem is. My problem is that I don’t know how to shut it off. I can’t get the images out of my head. I can’t stop my pulse from racing when he’s near, or the gut-wrenching need that’s trying to swallow me whole. I can’t stop my heart from falling to its unrequited death every time he smiles at me. I’m a mess, and being near him is only making it worse.
I turn, cautiously moving in as if his touch is going to burn me. And it does. The heat seeps in as he wraps me in a hug, slowly burning down every inch, scorching all of my senses. Torturing every single nerve. The flames strike across my sanity and flick between my legs, and I feel myself tremble. He pulls me in closer and my crushing little heart soaks up every second of his attention, wishing I could remember back to when I was twelve and saw him as my obnoxious big stepbrother who would boss me around and got annoyed every time I was in his presence. Now, all I can think about is how much I crave him.
“I’m sorry about how we left things, Torre.” The mention of our fight brings back a memory I’ve been trying to forget. “Look. I may not understand your decision, but I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m not disappointed in you, and I don’t think you’re a spoiled brat. I get that you want to spread your wings and try something new, and I’ll support you no matter what. But just promise me one thing.” He lifts my chin, imploring me with those dark eyes and stealing the last remaining oxygen in my lungs. “If you end up missing it, promise me you’ll try out next year. You’re so talented, Torrin. And the squad would be lucky to have you.”
It’s not that I didn’t want to cheer anymore, it’s that I couldn’t do it. It was all so overwhelming. Everything crashed in at once. The jealousy. The intense feelings. The disgust over my twisted emotions. I was so confused I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t concentrate on my high jumps or the routines. Everything became a blur to the forbidden thoughts that were taking over. And every time I looked over and saw Lukas watching me from the sidelines, I fumbled. My nerves took control, and I couldn’t perform. It felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like I was having a nervous breakdown. Everything was closing in and I needed air. So, I left. And I never went back.
But as far as Lukas and everyone else knows, I bailed because my “heart wasn’t in it anymore.” Because I got to campus and realized I wanted to experience new things at college. Try something different next year. I’ve been cheering since I was four years old. I’ve given it my blood, sweat, and tears. But I told everyone I was done.
Now, I have to figure out what I’m going to do with my life because ever since I was a little girl, sitting in the stadiums, watching the cheerleaders in their cute skirts and tops, smiling wide, looking beautiful, getting all the fans excited, I’d dreamt of being a professional cheerleader. There is nothing else I want to do, but I walked out on my auditions and I lost my chance.
“I promise I’ll go back if I miss it.” I cross my fingers behind my back, knowing I’ll never be able to cheer on the same team as Stacey. Every time I look at her, I see the image of them together and the jealousy slices in, cutting so deep I can barely breathe past it. “But I really am excited about exploring new things this year.” The lie comes out easily now. I’ve said it so many times I may soon believe it. “I might even join a sorority.”
“No.” Lukas shifts away, looking angry with me again. “You’re not rushing a sorority.”
He turns and walks back over to his bed, working to unpack his bag. His entire body is tense like I’ve struck a nerve, but I don’t understand why he’s so against the idea. Given the fact that he spends so much time with sorority girls, I figured he’d be a fan of the idea.
“Why not? It’s a good way to meet people.”
“There are plenty of other ways to meet people, Torre. In your classes and at the dorms. You can even join a club. Go give pickleball a try.”
Pickleball? I may love tumbling and practicing my jumps and splits, but I’m not really a sports kind of girl.
“I don’t understand what the problem is with me joining one. They do charity events and have socials. It’s like a built-in friend group right off the bat.”
“And they’re all bitches.” He grabs a stack of shirts from his bag and takes them over to his dresser. There’s a picture of our family perched on top, and it gives me a good kick in the gut, reminding me of how sick I am. “You don’t need to buy your friends, Torrin.”
His opinion seems a bit hypocritical. Maybe he’s forgetting the fact that his last girlfriend wasn’t just a member of a sorority, but the president of the Deltas. The image of them together—of what he was doing to her—is the reason I’m suffering from all these fucked-up feelings. I’m still haunted daily. Breaking out into a sweat. A throbbing ache forming between my legs. Jealousy grabbing onto my nerves and nearly choking me to death.
“If they’re all bitches, then how come you’ve fucked so many of them?” Although, I won’t argue the fact that Stacey was a bitch. She didn’t like me from the get-go. It wasn’t until she learned who my brother was that she plastered on her fake smile and pretended to be my friend. Then I turned into her favorite incoming freshman. The one she made an example of for all the others.
“Watch your mouth.” He whips his head around, casting me a glare that twists me up further.
“I’m eighteen, Lukas. I can say fuck if I want to.” I think I’m past the point of putting a quarter in the swear jar for saying a cuss word. Although, he still sees me as a little kid. And probably always will. “And I’ve seen all the pics online so you can’t deny it.” All the many girls who he’s dated. I’ve studied every image. Stalked their social media pages. Envying every single one of them. Wondering what it was about them that drew him in.
“Just because some girl posts a picture of me doesn’t mean I’ve slept with her. And believe me, if I were looking for a girlfriend, I wouldn’t be looking on sorority row.”
“Really? Wasn’t Stacey in a sorority?” It’s obvious he needs his memory jogged.
“She wasn’t a girlfriend. She was a…distraction.”
A distraction? It seemed a lot more intense than that. The entire time I was visiting with him he was consumed by her. I’m not even sure whether he came to my cheerleading tryouts to support me or to get his dick sucked. It definitely seemed like the latter from what I witnessed. And she was bragging to all the girls about how she was dating the great Lukas Williams, and how they were so perfect together. She could see it lasting all the way down the aisle. A thought that had me wanting to slap her across the face. My entire system was revolting the idea, and I knew I couldn’t cheer on the same team as her.
“Whatever she was or wasn’t to you, she’s in a sorority.” And I can’t tell you how grateful I am that he called it quits with her. “So, my point is that you obviously don’t have a problem with sorority girls.”
“You’re not joining one. End of discussion.” He storms back over to his bag, his attention returning to unpacking.
I don’t understand what his problem is. And just who does he think he is to tell me what I can and can’t do? He’s not my parent. He’s not the one paying my tuition. And he doesn’t get to boss me around anymore.