Chapter 6
The moment I’m in my bedroom, I yank off my wet clothes and turn on the shower. Slamming my palm against the wall, I drop my head. Her hurt expression haunts me. But damn, that girl. I thought she was going to drown, and that fear I experienced was something I’d never known before.
But she played me. If everything is a game to her, then let’s play.
Getting out, I dry myself. Changing into a pair of sweatpants, I snatch up a bottle of whiskey I hid in my closet. I drop on the couch, thoughts of Abigail inundating my mind. She’s infusing my bloodstream, and I don’t have a fucking antidote.
It’s a dangerous thing to allow my thoughts free rein, so I drag myself to bed. But sleep is harder earned than any pole position.
The next day, everyone talks in the hallway about the party as if it were the best night of their lives. Maybe for them it was.
In class, when she takes the seat next to me, I open my mouth, but the teacher walks in.
When she starts with today’s lesson, Abigail’s pencil glides along the blank page with elegant precision.
I snatch the paper from under her, offering her a smile as I write, Friends?
She eyes me skeptically, and I cross my heart before I mouth. I promise, I’ll behave.
She bends over the page and writes , You’re not serious. Stay away from me.
That I truly can’t do, I reply.
Remember last night? You were mad at me.
So what? We can be mad at each other and still be friends.
I don’t believe your intentions are friendly at all.
This girl will be the death of me. She’s the perfect combination of smart, beautiful, and mesmerizing that will wreck me.
I stare at the note, not wanting to lie to her.
When the class ends, neither of us moves.
Her hands lay tucked on her lap, and her face is downcast. I can feel her struggle as if it were my own. Playing games would be the stupidest thing with the girl I know is meant to be mine. I am not playing for the game’s sake, but I intend to win her.
I take her hand in mine, her soft skin feels good in my callused one. Interlacing our fingers, she sighs.
“I apologize for what I did.” She sounds truly regretful, and I can’t stand that sadness. If I could, I’d take it from her.
“Are you okay?” I ask, not wanting to believe she’s this sad because of me.
“You don’t have to worry about me. It is what it is,” she says, lifting her shoulders in a small dejected shrug, breaking my heart. “And I have Kaden and my friends.”
“Kaden, huh?”
Strange how my heart takes a deep dive into misery. I would have bet it was incapable of feeling loss anymore.
“You love him?”
“I do. He’s family. They are all my family.”
When the girl I want tells me she loves someone else, I should give up. Or I could do what I have done all my life: fight for what I want.
“I accept that. Friends?”
She lifts her gaze to me, looking back at me skeptically. “I’m already regretting giving in to this friendship.”
She might love him, but she wants me.
“Why? I’m harmless.”
“No, you’re not.”
She peels her hands from mine, taking the warmth and all that softness with her.
“See you around.”
I must be either stupid or reckless. By now, I think it’s a mix of both, but she said we’re friends. When lunchtime rolls around, I stride toward their table.
Kaden grumbles. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he says to her, making me wonder what kind of relationship these two have.
“Dane’s my friend,” she replies, pulling me down to sit beside her. All eyes from the neighboring tables whip their heads from her to me and back.
“He’s trouble. I’m making sure he won’t cause any more,” she adds quickly.
While she and Kaden are in a staring match, making me even more confused about their relationship, Blake cocks his head. “You were unofficially the guest of honor. Where did you disappear to?”
“I spent my time way better.”
Abigail turns her face, trying to hide her smile, but I saw it.
I pull my phone out and show Blake the type of parties I’ve been to. From the A-list guest list to famous DJs and all the debauchery, that’s hard to top. With every video, his expression becomes more impressed.
“How are you adapting?” Bailey asks me while still looking at her phone.
“I expected worse. Instead, I found something unexpectedly good.”
Abigail looks at me as if trying to get inside of me. It’s disconcerting yet also soothing. Truly strange how she makes me feel. What she ignites in me could be even more dangerous than the fucking dark thoughts in my head.
“He’s disturbing the dynamics.”
Kaden is such a grumpy asshole.
“We should have been five anyway,” Blake says, and the air gets sucked from the room.
“Really, asshole?”
Abigail places her hand on Kaden’s arm. I’m two seconds away from ripping his limb off. She lays her cheek on his shoulder, and he relaxes a bit.
Blake looks at my fists and says under his breath, “Reckless is one thing. Going there will cost you. Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
***
I’ve been following Abigail around for a week, begging for her phone number. Her answer is always no. She’ll give in because I won’t accept her excuse that following each other on Insta means we don’t need to exchange our personal numbers.
I’ve spent more time in the library this past week than I have in my entire life, but that’s where Abigail spends most of her free time.
What can I say? I’m a persistent bastard, and I want her phone number, but she keeps refusing to give it to me. That’s her way of putting a bit of distance, but I’m going to dismantle every damn wall she tries to put between us.
She flicks through some romance books on a bookshelf and lifts her gaze. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“Friends have each other’s numbers.”
“Why do you want my phone number so badly?”
“I need it.” I drag a hand down my face, sweat beading at my nape. This girl makes me nervous just by looking at me. She terrifies me. I had hundreds of horsepower under my hood and it didn’t intimidate me like she does.
She crosses her arms over her chest, which pushes her tits out. I try not to look, but I peek at them, and my cock throbs. I’ve never had this urge to get someone naked or fuck them, but my physical need can wait. I’ve gone so long without sex. I won’t ruin my chance with her because she gets me hornier than I have ever been.
“Ask me nicely.”
“I’ve been asking you nicely, princess.”
I live for her smiles, those carefree, open, enchanting ones. When she smiles genuinely, her face radiates, like a goddess of light. My legs move automatically toward her just to bathe in her nearness.
Her red lips entice me, snapping my control. I rub my thumb along the contour of her mouth. She draws in a breath.
“Your fucking red lips drive me insane…”
I still see her in the moon’s light, in the boat, before it turned to shit.
“I was this close to giving you my phone number.” She parts her thumb and forefinger an inch. I cage her in. We always end up getting nearer, coming closer, as if the axis tips over and we crash into one another.
“I want to kiss you … the things I picture those red lips doing—”
She covers my mouth with her hand. “What do I get if I give you my number?”
Considering no one except her little group has it, and none of them have budged, I’d say I’m quite desperate for it after seven days.
I place a kiss on her palm, and she yanks her hand away.
“Whatever you want,” I say.
“I want answers, honest answers. Which you should have given me just because we’re friends.”
“Fine. I’ll give you the most honest answer to one question. Then, if you still want to continue, it’s answer for answer.”
She taps her lower lip, pondering. “I read everything there is to read about you.”
She is going there. Of course she is. Everyone wants to know why I did what I did.
“Something happened the night of your win for you to behave like that. You’ve always been reckless and a bit of a rebel, but you’re a racer, so I guess in a way it comes with the job description. It must have been bad enough for you to jeopardize your career.”
My heart pounds in my throat, making it difficult for me to breathe.
I mumble, “I didn’t hear a question.”
“What happened?”
“I found out the truth about my father’s death.”
She takes my hand in hers and caresses my palm with her thumb, lulling me to continue.
“I’m just like him, and I can’t escape that. My head is as screwed up as his.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Sweetheart, then you’re an optimist and a bit delusional… it’s a fact. I promise you I will always be truthful, even if it’s ugly.”
Her brows furrow, something obviously displeasing her.
“I apologize. That was quite simplistic of me. But you don’t know for sure that you will end up like him. We’re humans who might think we’re God, but ultimately we never know what will happen.”
“It’s sexy as fuck how smart you are.”
“Hmm, and only a few days ago I was what, shallow and vapid?”
Cupping the back of her neck, I drag her face to mine and confess another truth. “Don’t put words in my mouth, princess. I want you desperately. It’s all I can think about.”
“We won’t go there. Ever. Behave.” She says all those big words while eyeing my lips with pure want, rolling her bottom lip through her teeth.
Fuck, how I’d like to bite into that succulent, full lip.
“Stop lying to yourself, princess.”
The need to touch her overpowers me. I trace my thumb along her neck, feeling her pulse thump under my touch. Her eyes widen, a small gasp breaking free. She takes a step back, shaking her head.
“I’m not saying that so you can barrel in with your good looks and charm and prove me wrong. You have your secrets and I have mine.”
My control falters, so I shove my hands into my pockets to avoid touching her and taking what we both want. I want her to burn for me like I do her. So when she gives in, there won’t be any doubt left.
“You’re going to kiss me the first time.”
“You never give up, do you? I knew this friendship would come to bite me in the ass.”
“Your ass looks amazing too.”
She elbows me playfully and opens her backpack, rummaging through it. She pushes a book against my chest and then hands me two more. “Read them. I heard books are good for mental exercising.”
“Are you insinuating something?”
She winks at me over her shoulder. “My phone number is inside.”
I open the book, fingers shaking with impatience, only to realize she played me.
“I won’t ever retract my words that you’re cunning,” I say to her retreating back.
“It’s not my fault you stand no chance against my cunning ways.”
I shake my head but grin.
This girl unravels me. But apparently, I don’t mind at all.
***
There is an entire quest for her number.
I read all three romance books in two days to get her complete phone number. In the first one, she bolded the first two digits. I would not have noticed them, though, if I hadn’t read every page. The second one contained the next three digits, and the third had the remaining digits.
But I learned something. She loves romance books with spice in them.
All three male main characters had one thing in common. They were absolutely obsessed with their women and, according to how many times they made them come, fuck me, they don’t make it easy for the rest of us. But I’m going to top them. That’s my vow.
She wants to be coveted, adored, fought for. Fine with me.
If she already felt that type of love she enjoys reading about, she wouldn’t engage in this game of seduction we have going on.
We might be friends, but when we’re together, the static cracks with the tension between us. I want more. She wants more.
We both are well aware we want each other. But I will keep my promise.
She has to initiate it.
I can be patient. For her.
Because I know it’s going to be worth it.
She would be scared if she knew my brain doesn’t work like everyone else’s. And when I focus on something, it’s all I think about and desire—it’s all I live for. Nothing else exists. I’m not only visualizing us together, but it’s so real I can taste, smell, feel it.
I text. Princess, I always get what I want, sooner or later.
My heart lurches in my throat when her message pops up on my phone just a few seconds later. This mix of nerves and excitement intoxicates me.
Do you?
When lunch rolls around, I take my seat at their table, and the group is engaged in a hushed argument.
“No,” Kaden says. Typical. This guy wouldn’t know what fun is if it blew up his ass.
“Come on,” Blake insists.
“What’s up?” I ask.
Abigail sighs, looking at Blake.
Blake turns to me and says, “I found this spot.”
Kaden clenches his jaw. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“It’s just racing. Why the fuck do we have the cars we do if we don’t use them?”
“Just racing? He is a professional. Tell him it’s dangerous, please,” Bailey says to me.
Blake leans back in his chair. “I’m fucking bored.”
“With staying alive, apparently,” replies Abigail.
Blake cocks his head to me. “Wanna teach me how to race?”
I can relate to his careless attitude. I know what it’s like to do anything to feel something.
“It’s dangerous. You don’t become a race car driver overnight. First, you go karting, where you learn to control the car and get used to more horsepower and speed. It takes thousands of hours of training. What I did that night was stupid. Racing in a controlled environment is something else. One second can make the difference between life and death. On the streets, the hazard is even greater.”
Kaden sends me a grateful nod. No fear flickers in Blake’s eyes; it’s as if he lives to test how far he can go.
“Would you teach me? I mean the basics,” Abigail whispers in my ear. Her words have me whipping my face in her direction.
“I’m quite an expensive tutor.”
She drags that full lip through her teeth. “I have the money.”
“But princess, we both know what I want.”
If this is her way of finally giving in to us, I’m more than okay with that.
Strangely, the thought of racing terrified me, even when Blake mentioned it.
I barely kept my voice from shaking, but now my entire body lights up. It’s her. She’s becoming my fixation. All that I covet. The reason I feel so alive like never before. It could end catastrophically for me. But again, my survival instincts were never strong to begin with.
When lunch break ends, we return to class, but without her next to me, time drags by too slowly.
After class, I walk toward the dorm. I throw my jacket off as soon as I am in my room. Rolling my sleeves up to my elbows, I take a seat on the couch and play a racing video game.
My pulse throbs in my neck. My fingers shake on the controller. Fuck. I throw it to the side. I shouldn’t have gotten in the car that night. It was my fault. I’m a screwup, and that’s the fucking problem. The relief I felt only a few hours ago vanishes.
When my phone rings, I let it ring a few times until I get myself under control.
When I slide my finger over the screen to answer, my mom says, “How are you?”
The worry lacing her words sends me on another guilt trip.
“Trying to get my head straight.”
Silence follows until she says, “Close your eyes.”
“Mom.”
“Just do it for me.”
“Fine.”
She chuckles at my bratty tone. “You’re in the car. How do you feel?”
“Anxious, humbled, fearful.”
“Of what?”
“Of losing control.”
“It’s good to be afraid, Dane. Those who have no fear should never be allowed to race.” Like my father. “You answered honestly this time. Oh my God, is there someone?”
I chuckle. “Mom.”
“Don’t ‘Mom’ me. Tell me everything.”
“Her name is Abigail. And that’s all you get to know… for now.”
Her squeal fills the line. “I am so relieved you’re doing okay.”
“How’s Jasmine?” I ask, changing the topic successfully.
“Missing you.”
“Mom…” I swallow hard. “Sending me away was the right decision.”
“I will say this until you believe me: you are not your father. Don’t get me wrong. You have his charm, the disregard for safe job choices, but you… you did what he would have never done. Take a break, get your head straight. What you have doesn’t have to be a life sentence.”
Yes, but a part of me is hell-bent on testing how far I can go, not caring about the outcome.
“Love you, Mom.”
“Love you more.”
***
Of course Abigail is the first in class. I won’t even hide that my gaze fixes on her thighs as I approach her. As if she was expecting me, she’s perched against the desk, looking like my dream woman. Seeing her dressed in a school skirt and white stockings is pure eroticism. Only a bit of her thigh is exposed. That small patch of skin tempts me to touch it, lick my way up, and feel if it’s just as soft and smooth as I imagined it would be.
She lifts my chin with a dainty finger, and I smirk, not a bit sorry she caught me.
We’ve been playing these push-and-pull games for three weeks now. I forget she belongs to someone else, and in the process, she tends to forget that too. But fuck if I get any romantic vibes from them, which makes things easier.
She inches her skirt up a bit, and I gulp. My hands tremble with need as I grip her waist.
Mischief is written all over her face. “Found something interesting to look at?”
“Princess.”
She lowers to me, and now I am inches away from her chest.
“You’re playing with fire.”
“I see no fire.”
I shoot from my seat, caging her in. At any moment, students could come in.
“Admit you want me.”
She grips my jacket’s lapels. Her soft pink manicured fingers look good on me. They would look even better on me when we’re both naked. I bury my head in her neck. That sensual mix of vanilla and roses hits my nostrils, drugging my insides.
“Tell me how bad you want my lips on you.”
“Dane…”
“Yes, princess?”
It’s as if I ate shit instead of luck because the school bell blasts through. Suddenly she scoots up, arranges her uniform, and takes her seat.
Students pile in moments later.
She sticks her head in her book and doesn’t look up for the entire class.
An array of feelings tear through me, and they escalate with every minute.
When we’re dismissed, I rush outside, needing to calm down before I throw her over my shoulder and make her admit this is not one-sided.
I feel her behind me. Every atom of me is hyperaware of her presence, but I keep walking. Outside, I turn a sharp right, and in an alcove, I throw my back against the wall. With shaking fingers, I light up a smoke.
She’s in my face, frustration flashing in her eyes, making them appear even more vibrant.
“I told you I wouldn’t kiss you like this.”
She yanks the smoke from between my lips, tosses it to the side, and stomps on it. I grab her and push her against the wall, burning for her.
I slowly expel the smoke in her face. It is quite fitting because this is how she always makes me feel. Burning. On the edge.
“And I told you, if you don’t want me at my worst—” The words die in my throat as she yanks me by my lapels, pulling me down to her.