Chapter 11
Lacey
T he room is shrouded in darkness, and the only thing I can see is a sliver of light shining through the gap underneath the door. I only realize what’s happening once the person who grabbed me in the hallway turns the lights on.
My breath catches in my throat when TJ comes into view. My fake boyfriend stands mere steps away from me, his eyes blazing with anger and a hint of satisfaction that sends a surge of anxiety through me.
I take in my surroundings. Rows of gray lockers adorn the walls, and wooden benches sit in the center of the space. This is the Grill House’s employees’ locker room.
The corners of TJ’s lips pull into a smirk, the look on his face resembling one a madman would give his victim after luring them into a trap. So… safe to say ignoring him was a bad move?
“You have two choices. You can tell me what the fuck is going on, or I can force it out of you.”
I get chills just from that.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been ignoring me for three days, that’s what.”
I could try to deny it, but something tells me it wouldn’t do me any good. “I was busy. It happens.”
“Not to you, it doesn’t. You always have your phone on you. Now, spill.”
He’s really going to make me say it, isn’t he?
I exhale a sigh. “Look, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but I heard you on the phone the other day. You can do whatever you want, but I’m not interested in helping you cheat on your girlfriend.”
“My what?” Normally, I can tell when someone is faking, but he looks like he genuinely has no idea what I’m talking about. If he’s lying, then the guy deserves an Oscar.
“Your girlfriend, Vera ? Ring any bells?”
His mouth falls open.
“Wait… you think…”
The last thing I expected was for him to laugh in my face.
“You think Vera’s my girlfriend? What made you think that?”
“Gee, let’s see… Maybe because you said you loved her?”
“Vera’s my godmother. And my aunt.”
I need a moment to register what he just said.
“Oh.”
That’s what happens when you jump to conclusions without asking, Lacey.
He steps closer. “Where in the fuck would I find the time to be in a secret relationship on top of school, basketball practice, work, and our weekly lessons?”
I hadn’t thought of that. I guess it would be difficult for him to fit a secret girlfriend into his schedule.
“So, no, I don’t have a secret girlfriend. You’re the only girl I’m seeing these days.”
Wow, I feel like an idiot .
“All right, then. You don’t have a girlfriend. Now that we’ve cleared that up, I should probably get back to my date.”
I turn to leave, but TJ grabs my wrist and tugs me backward before I can blink.
I gasp when my shoulder hits his chest with a thud. Inches separate our faces now, and I avoid eye contact for my own sanity. I don’t like what being this close to him does to me.
“I told you what you wanted to know. Now it’s your turn.”
He’s going to ask me an incredibly inappropriate question, isn’t he?
“Are you going to fuck him later?”
Called it.
I try to take back my wrist, but he doesn’t let go, holding my forearm flat against his chest. He keeps me close like he wants to make sure I’m not going to bolt before he gets an answer.
I level my gaze with his, returning the eye contact to appear confident. “You’re insane if you think I’m answering that.”
“So, you’re allowed to ask nosy questions, but I’m not? Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it, Mattson.”
I want to argue. Only he’s right.
“Let’s try again. Are you going to fuck him, yes or no?”
“No,” I cave.
“So, you don’t like him?”
I decide to fess up so I can get away from him and the heavy tension filling the air. “No, I told you I’d changed my mind about that.”
He can barely hide his grin. “Good.”
He releases my wrist once I’ve satisfied his curiosity.
I frown. “Why is that good?”
Common sense depletes from my body when he stalks toward me, breaching my personal space. I know my self-control is no match for the magnetic pull I feel toward him by the way my legs refuse to obey me.
TJ fills the space between us, only stopping when our breaths merge. “Because I changed my mind, too.”
I can’t move a muscle as he brings his mouth just inches away from mine and blows our “friendship” to pieces with five little words.
“He can’t fucking have you.”
Then he’s crashing his mouth against mine.
I want to fight him on what he said, tell him he doesn’t have any control over who I date, but I end up matching every bit of the desire his kiss holds, opening up for him and letting his tongue slide past my lips.
I have no idea why it feels the way it does, but there’s something about the way he takes my mouth without restraint. It quiets the sirens in my head and turns the good little girl in me into a nasty devil without morals. I’ve kissed him before, so why on earth does this feel so… new?
It becomes clear.
The last time he kissed me, he was trying to help me capture a few guys’ attention. But this kiss?
It’s real.
Gutting.
He’s kissing me because he wants to.
A deep, beastly sound escapes him, and it does something to me. It makes me want to pull every trick at my disposal to hear it again.
The crazy thing is, I managed to convince myself that the chemistry I felt the last time he kissed me was because I’d spent too long deprived of human contact. I thought, surely, my pounding heart couldn’t be because of TJ, but now? I understand it’s him. He’s the one making me feel this way.
I want to protest when he parts from me suddenly, his dark, hungry eyes raking down my face as he ponders making a move that’ll lead us down a dangerous path.
A glimmer of doubt tears across his eyes, but it vanishes the next second, overcome by animal instincts and the heat of the moment. His mouth rains down on mine again, but this time, his hands fly to my waist, clutching my body firmly.
“You look so fucking good in that little sundress, rich girl.” His hand drops to the hem of the dress, and he fists the fabric, gripping it so tightly I have no doubt he could rip it apart if he tried.
I grin. “You like that? You should see what’s underneath it.”
His jaw drops.
Hell, my jaw drops.
I can’t believe I just said that.
It would seem horny, hasn’t-had-sex-in-over-a-year Lacey has officially taken over my body.
The shock on his face morphs into desire. Then he leans in to whisper, “You’d better start watching your mouth around me, Mattson. You keep saying shit like this and I will bend you over in the middle of the locker room.”
My stomach clenches.
I want him to.
What the hell is wrong with me? I’m supposed to be on a date. Aaron is waiting for me in the next room, for crying out loud.
I raise an eyebrow. “That’s the thing with threats, Jacobs. They don’t mean anything unless you act on them.”
I immediately know I’m not prepared for the consequences saying that to him will bring.
He looks like he’s considering eating me alive. I almost wuss out and tell him I didn’t mean it, but the truth is, I do, and I’ve never craved someone as much as I crave him right now.
“Feeling brave, are we?” His fingers curve around the back of my neck, and he tugs at my scalp, using his grip on my hair to jerk me closer.
His lips descend over mine with such urgency that my legs become wobbly. I’m so engulfed in the way his tongue feels tracing the seam of my mouth that I barely realize his hand dropped to my ass.
I’m glad I decided to wear spandex shorts under my dress. The extra layer brings me a sense of security. It serves as a guarantee that we won’t let this get too far.
Because we can’t.
All that talk about bending me over in the middle of the locker room was just that— talk. We’ll just make out a little…
Right?
What he does next plants seeds of doubt into my mind. He boxes me in against a locker, bringing his body so impossibly close to mine I can feel his arousal prodding my stomach.
His fingers dig into my thigh, drawing a whimper out of me, but it doesn’t indicate pain. This is need. He seems to read me loud and clear, continuing to leave marks all over my legs before circling my throat with his other hand.
His lips attach themselves to my collarbone, planting kisses up and down the curve of it. “You’re such a fucking brat, you know that? You can’t just stop talking to me for three days. Don’t do that shit again.”
I don’t answer. I can’t . The pressure of his mouth on my neck won’t allow it.
“Oh, and next time you get jealous, spare me the silent treatment and fucking ask.”
His comment sets me off. “I wasn’t jealous!”
The sly smile playing on his lips makes my blood boil. “Yeah, you were. And I fucking love it.”
I don’t get a chance to argue before he’s kissing me again, our tongues engaging in a dance so intense it leaves me breathless.
“You were jealous, too,” I manage to say when we pull away for air. I sound pathetic. Like I’m desperate to deny that the guy I once couldn’t stand got under my skin.
And he did.
Whatever I feel for him, it’s not just friendship.
And yeah, maybe it’s physical. But there’s also a connection there, something I was starting to think I’d never experience again.
“Never said I wasn’t, rich girl. Now, are you going to let me kiss the fuck out of you or just keep stating the obvious?”
Well, that was harsh.
And hot.
Don’t forget hot .
“You’re such a?—”
“Yeah, yeah. Get over here.” He shuts me up with a deep, senseless kiss I feel in my stomach. God, I want to slap him sometimes, but not as much as I want him to do unspeakable things to me.
You’d think I said that out loud by the way he lodges his knee between my legs, parting my thighs as he does. We never stop kissing, not even when his hand travels down my stomach.
This shouldn’t be happening.
I know that.
I’m sure he knows that.
So, why do I angle my body forward, arching my back off the locker for him? Why do I moan in anticipation the second his fingers climb up my dress? I’m not thinking straight right now. I’m like a puppet on a string when it comes to this man.
One of his fingers trails down my pussy over my shorts. It’s a single stroke, barely there and so delicate it shouldn’t affect me, but it draws a gasp from me.
“Look at you begging for my touch like a good little slut.”
Christ .
My eyes must flare when he calls me a slut because he laughs.
“She likes degradation. Got it.”
Do I?
I think I do.
I didn’t know it before just now.
I never thought about it. What do I like? I think I was so desperate for validation back when I was in high school that I was too in my head to actually enjoy sex. I wasn’t ever truly present when it happened. I just wanted Theo to like me.
For anyone to like me.
To help me forget that I never liked myself.
TJ repeats the action, sliding his finger across my clit, but he doesn’t pull away this time, continuously teasing me over my clothes.
My mouth opens of its own accord, and TJ groans to himself, withdrawing a few inches so he can look at me as he begins to twirl my clit in slow circles.
“I wonder what your date would say if he knew what I’m doing to that needy little pussy right now.”
My eyes shutter closed when he applies more pressure, speeding up his circles.
“As much as I’d love to watch you come all over my fingers, I don’t share. So, I’m going to need you to get back to your date and tell him to lose your fucking number.”
With that, he removes his hand and backs away.
My eyes fly open.
“A-Are you serious?” I spit, unable to steady my breathing.
I could strangle him when he smirks and tucks a piece of my hair that fell in front of my eyes behind my ear. “Dead serious.”
“But—”
“You didn’t think I was going to let you keep seeing him, did you? Sorry to disappoint, rich girl, but if we’re doing this, I’m the only guy who gets to touch you.”
I almost look down to make sure my jaw isn’t on the floor. What does that even mean? If we’re doing this ? Doing what? It’s as though I’ve sealed my fate when I let him touch me.
“I…” I stop, needing a second to get a grip. “Fuck you, TJ.”
I whip around and make a beeline for the door.
“Soon, Mattson. You can quote me on that.”
I hate him so much.
I swing the door open and bolt out of the locker room. Only someone is standing on the other side, about to come in.
Chance. His eyes grow when he sees me, with the strap of my sundress cascading down my shoulder and my hair a mess. Then he spots TJ, still inside the locker room, watching me walk away. Chance starts to say something, but I don’t acknowledge him, rushing past him and down the hall.
One thing is for sure…
This is going down as the most memorable “ date ” I’ve ever had.