Chapter Forty-Three
Forty-three
Kian
“Shit!”
Scarlett bolts upright, nearly knocking me off the bed as she kicks off the comforter. The morning sun’s bleeding through the cracked curtains, throwing light across the room in streaks.
I blink, still half asleep, watching her trip over her own feet as she searches for her clothes. “What’s happening?” I ask.
Scarlett startles at my voice, staring at her phone.
“Sierra just texted that she’s on her way here.
She left her parents’ place early.” She yanks a black T-shirt over her head, the hem swallowing her thighs entirely.
It takes me a second to notice that it’s my shirt.
Before I can point it out, she’s crawling on the floor, frantically searching for something.
It’s chaos, her shirt hanging off the corner of her dresser, my hoodie bunched up with her leggings.
I pluck her panties off the pillow and toss them her way. “These might help.”
She catches them midair, flashing me that wild, sleep-creased grin that makes my chest ache, and slipping them on as she hops into her leggings.
“You’re cute when you panic,” I tease, grabbing her waist before she can escape.
Her breath hitches when I tug her into my lap, my mouth brushing the curve of her jaw. I’m half distracted by how her skin tastes like both of us.
She was open last night, letting me in every way, but I could see that same hesitation that hit her yesterday morning creeping in.
She twists, her lips colliding with mine, quick and messy. My hands drift down, fingers skimming the bare skin under her shirt.
“Kian,” she laughs breathlessly. “You’re making this harder.”
“I’m trying to help you relax.”
“What I need is for you to leave before my best friend asks me a million questions. She can’t see us like this.”
“You make it sound so dirty.” I nip her jaw. “You do know we can be together, right? No one would say anything.” But she’s already wriggling free, slipping on her shoes.
“Don’t forget your phone,” she reminds me, ignoring my words completely. There’s a stake that’s been trying to carve through my chest since we’ve been together. Every time she dodges the reality of us being together, it gets a little closer.
“We should probably tell them,” I say, casually taking my phone from the dresser. “I mean, if they weren’t so caught up in each other, I’m pretty sure they would have figured it out by now.”
She doesn’t stop moving.
I sigh, rolling off the bed and catching her frantic movements. “We should tell everyone. About us. Besides, keeping it from Dylan is making my stomach hurt.”
She laughs awkwardly, tucking her hair behind her ear and pausing at the door to peek into the hall. “Take some Pepto-Bismol.”
“I’m serious. I tell him everything, even things he doesn’t want to know,” I say, my voice lower as I step behind her, crowding her against the door. My fingers skim her hips, tugging her back against me, and I can feel her breathing shift, her pulse quicken.
“I know, but don’t you like this? Just us. No noise. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m with you for anything other than wanting to be with you. This isn’t just a fling for me.”
“It’s not for me either.” I brush her hair off her shoulder, my mouth so close to her skin I can feel her shiver.
We slip into the empty hall, tiptoeing through the quiet hallway. She leads me to the glass doors. We barely make it outside before I have her pinned against the brick wall, stopping her from running again.
The kiss is rough, making her reciprocate it, all dirty and rushed. Scarlett’s fingers fist my hoodie, and my hand slides down to cup her ass, pulling her flush against me.
“You’re incorrigible,” she breathes through kisses, grinning despite herself.
“You’re irresistible.”
Her skin is warm, and she feels perfect in my hands. I’ve got half a mind to just take her to my car.
“Think about it?” I say between kisses.
She finally sighs. “Okay, all right. I just need some time before we do. I’ve never done this before, and I’m not good at it.”
“You’re good at everything.”
The delicate column of her throat moves. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“You can never do that. I want to take care of you.”
She scrunches her nose. “It’s a shitty job.”
“Not if it’s you.”
She mutters something under her breath, but I don’t like the look on her face right now. It’s saying too much of what I know isn’t true. So I kiss her, letting my hands drift down her waist, then lower, until I can feel her melting into my hands.
“Five bucks says I can make you come right here.”
She laughs. “You probably can. But you should go.”
“Hmm?” I kiss the sensitive part of her neck. “Where do you want me to go, sweetheart? Lower?”
Scarlett whimpers. A rush of heat floods through my system, and I take it slow with her, collecting every one of her sounds as my reward. It’s early, so I’m not worried about anyone seeing us, and clearly neither is she.
“Rosie?”
The wind carries the familiar voice toward us, making Scarlett jerk back a little.
“Did you say something?” she asks, dazed.
I shake my head, though she still looks unsettled. My hand finds her chin, guiding her lips back to mine. That citrusy scent lingers in the air, wrapping around me.
“Rosie.”
This time, it’s loud. Unmistakable. And the low timber of it—I know it instantly.
It must be the authority in the voice, so recognizable, that even Scarlett pulls back, her wide eyes locking with mine before we both turn.
Confusion knots my brows, and just as I’m about to ask Coach Kilner what he’s doing at Iona House at six in the morning, Scarlett’s voice cuts in.
“Dad?” she says, and I swear my hearing dulls to a low hum.
Dad?
Ah, fuck.
My blood freezes in my veins, my gaze ping-ponging between Coach Kilner and my girlfr—Rosie.
My arms fall away from her, my limbs going limp with shock. My gaze rests on Coach’s death glare, and I spring away from his daughter.
“Coach,” I croak.
“Ishida.” Not Kian. Ishida.
Kilner crushes the paper bag he’s holding in his fist, and I just know he’s imagining it’s my head. My mouth has gone dry, and I’ve moved several paces away from Scarlett, as if I wasn’t just trying to swallow her whole.
My mind spins with so many absurd conclusions that I can barely focus on what’s happening in front of me. Maybe she accidentally called him Dad. I’ve done that plenty of times.
But why is he looking at her like that?
When I turn to Scarlett for some explanation or an escape from this mindfuck, she’s gone still as ever, her eyes misty and red when she finally spares a glance at me.
“Scar?” I keep my voice low, worried I’m going to upset her more. “What’s going on?”
“Rosie?” Kilner asks, gesturing between me and her.
She starts to retreat, her shoulder bumping into the brick wall I had just had her pressed against. Something’s wrong.
But then I see the look on Kilner’s face, one I’ve never seen from him, yet I recognize it all too well. I’ve been kept in the dark about so many things in my life so I know that look. I’ve worn that look. My shoulders fall and a sudden exhaustion hits me.
When those brown eyes find mine, all I can do is shake my head. The look on her face is devastating, and it makes the spring in my chest coil even tighter. My breath wheezes in my airways, trying to find a way out, but everything is a dead end.
Scarlett seems to notice and hesitates to take a step forward, as if she can’t decide if that’s the right decision, especially when her dad is watching us. But I make that decision for her by taking a step back.
I can’t do this. I can’t let her see me like this. Can’t stand that look on Coach’s face that I haven’t seen since I was first on his shit list. Coach walks away before either of us can speak, and that fucks me up completely. It’s enough to make me turn away and walk straight to my car.