1. Addie
ADDIE
Iquickened my pace, jogging up the school steps and tugging my backpack tighter over my shoulder.
With my head down, my hair fell forward and shielded my face. Sunlight glinted off the golden-brown strands as I hastily tucked them behind my ears. “I said no, Owen.”
But the persistent upperclassman, who’d set his sights on me before the bell rang, wasn’t deterred by my refusal.
He followed me up the stone steps, clinging to his pursuit like a hungry squid on my back.
“Come on, Addie. Don’t be like that. I just want to carry your bag and walk you to class.”
Despite the charm oozing off him, his smooth line didn’t have the desired effect.
As I pushed through the double doors, I headed straight for my locker, keeping my tone polite. “I said I wasn’t interested, Owen.”
He didn’t take the hint, so I swiveled the dial on my locker with a six-foot, stocky-bodied shadow behind me. I briefly considered shielding the lock from him, but his persistence had annoyed me past the point of caring.
Owen Anderson was a senior on the high school football team, and I’d been warned ad nauseam about what senior boys wanted, especially from sophomore girls.
Even though I took most of what my twin brother, Adam, said with a grain of salt, Owen still gave me the creeps.
If he saw my combination, I’d deal with that later.
After flinging open my locker, I hung my backpack on the hook inside. Then I faced the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, self-proclaimed “god” amongst my peers.
“See. Backpack secured in locker. No help needed.”
He raised his eyebrows, his eyes traversing my body to land on my chest. “Perfect. Now your hands are free.”
Pursing my lips, I didn’t respond to that or point out his leering gaze, even though he’d fixed it firmly on my cleavage. If I gave him any attention, I’d only open the door for him to comment on my newly filled out figure.
I hated to say it, but Adam and Blake had been right.
Ever since starting high school, my brother and his best friend, Blake Hawthorne, had shared stories from the locker room like two broken records. Warnings to “protect my virtue” played on a loop in our home, even when I begged them to shut up.
Whenever Blake hung out at our house, which was practically always, it got worse.
He loved to provide evidence, sharing overly specific exploits from the football team, as if presenting a closing argument in a court case.
“Tina Summers gave Owen a blowjob behind the bleachers last week, but everyone says Marnie Phillips has the best DSLs. So, Adam isn’t just being a protective older brother, Addie. And yes—I know that’s what you were thinking.”
I’d refused to admit he was right.
I’d also been vaguely horrified over the prospect of learning a new sexually transmitted disease from my lifelong crush, but I’d asked what DSL stood for anyway.
And I regretted that decision instantly.
Having predicted my disgust, Blake had been smug as he leaned in so my parents wouldn’t overhear and whispered, “Dick sucking lips.”
I both shivered and wrinkled my nose at the memory.
Teenage boys were the worst.
Owen proved it. “Want to take a walk with me during lunch? See what sort of trouble we can get those hands into?”
I scoffed. “Don’t be gross, Owen. It’s unbecoming in a young man to leer like a creep.”
Grabbing the books I needed for my first class, I shut my locker. While slightly annoyed with myself for taking the bait, thoughts of Blake always had that effect on me. I shook my head to clear it as I turned away from Owen to head to class.
His hand snagged my upper arm.
Before I could tug it free, Owen had my back against the lockers. He planted his hands firmly on either side of my head and brought his face close to mine, his mouth hovering over my lips.
“It’s rude to call people names, Addison Barrow.” He smiled, his canines gleaming. “Maybe someone should teach you that lesson.”
My shock cleared, and I glared as he sneered down at me, bringing my knee up swiftly.
I rammed it into his groin.
“Someone should’ve taught you that no means no.”
Satisfaction pulsed through me as his expression twisted, morphing from wolfish to wincing, and I took advantage of his momentary shock to slip out from under his arms.
I hauled ass to my homeroom at the end of the hall without a glance back in his direction.
Heavy footsteps pounded on the linoleum, and the hair on the back of my neck rose before I reached my classroom. I grabbed the doorknob right as a meaty palm clamped onto my shoulder.
But another football player intervened, and as he stepped in front of me, a warm hand covered mine over the doorknob.
“Let her go, Owen.”
My heart rate skyrocketed.
But this time, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed god staring down at me had my adrenaline pumping for an entirely different reason.
“Blake,” I whispered.
He winked at me, and his smile sent the butterflies in my belly scattering in all directions.
Then his features hardened, and he averted his gaze from my surprised expression to his teammate standing at my back.
Blake straightened his spine, and my eyes widened as he stood at full height. Already two inches taller than most of the senior class, he intimidated anyone who didn’t know him. But even though I’d grown up with him, my breath still caught as he towered over me.
“Owen, isn’t your homeroom in the senior hall?” Blake cocked his head. “Pretty sure the bell’s about to ring, buddy.”
Owen slid his hand away and stepped back with a laugh. “Didn’t realize someone was already hitting that, Hawthorne.” Blake’s jaw tightened as the jerk said, “Not bad.”
I whirled around, my teeth clenched and an angry retort poised on my tongue, but Blake intercepted before I released it.
Spinning me back to face him, he tucked me under his arm and curled me toward his chest.
A squeak escaped my lips, and internally, I freaked out at the sudden contact.
But cool as a cucumber, Blake nodded at Owen as he opened the door behind us. “No harm, no foul, man. See you at practice.”
Tugging me inside the classroom, Blake disregarded how I struggled against him while I fought to ignore how much I liked it when his arms tightened around me.
Heat flared in my cheeks, and my body zinged with sudden electricity.
Mortified, I channeled it into rage.
“Blake, let me go.”
At my icy tone, he snapped his arms to his sides and took a step back. Taking in my scowl and flushed appearance, he chuckled under his breath, humiliating me further by ruffling my hair. As it flew into my face, I growled at him.
I swatted at his hand, and then I flattened my hair against my head, pushing back it behind my ears. “What the hell did you do that for, Blake? I had it handled.”
His eyebrows shot up, humor dancing in his eyes. “Did you?”
“Yes.” I huffed. “And now you’ve got him thinking you’re hitting this.” I gestured wildly over my body, catching how Blake’s eyes followed the movement.
Sky blue darkened to cobalt as he pinned his gaze on mine, and whatever thought ran through his head tightened his features.
But it vanished quickly, and by the time I planted my hands on my hips, his familiar half smile and the mischievous twinkle in his eyes shone back at me.
I tried not to be affected by it. Or his nearness.
But Blake Hawthorne’s every expression lived inside my mind. I’d memorized each one over the last ten years, studying his beautiful face from a distance both too close and too far away. Now, it was like a song only I knew the words to, with lyrics I’d never get out of my head.
And it came to mind at the most inopportune times, fully distracting me.
Unfortunately, Blake was not similarly afflicted by the sight of my face.
His easy, affectionate, love-ya-like-a-sister grin told me that, especially as he waved a hand over my body, clearly unaffected. “This is safe from the football players now. You’re welcome, Addie Bo Baddie.” He huffed a laugh. “Strong, independent woman.”
With one last smirk, he stepped around me and left the room, confident that he’d just protected me from the most dangerous boys in school because he had no idea that, to me—my heart and my sanity on school grounds—he was lethal.
As I stepped farther into my homeroom, I groaned.
My classmates stared at me, awe on most of their faces, no doubt wondering how I’d gotten Blake, the Teen Wonder, to talk to me like that. With a huff, I stomped to my seat, cursing the day he’d been bumped up to Varsity as a sophomore.
My only saving grace was that Blake ran in a different circle than I did. While he was charismatic and playful, making friends with everyone, I was diligent in my studies and limited my social circle to fellow artists.
My best friend, Tessa St. Clair, nudged me as I sat beside her. “What was that about?”
I pulled out my planner and opened it. “Nothing.”
“Didn’t look like nothing.” She shrugged, fully aware of my feelings for Blake and sworn to secrecy.
When Blake’s popularity had skyrocketed, girls came out of the woodwork to chase him. I’d gotten a bunch of fake friend offers from those eager enough to go through me to get to him.
Since I didn’t broadcast that Blake had grown up as part of my family, people only noticed our connection if he talked to me at school.
Which was why I’d strictly forbidden it.
Because if they knew the truth, they wouldn’t waste their time.
Tessa cleared her throat, and my eyebrows pinched as I eyed from my seat.
Her bright red curls bounced as she glanced between me and the door twice, like she expected Blake to rush back in and declare his undying love for me.
“He was just helping me get away from Owen Anderson.”
“Mmhmm.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know better than anyone it’s not like that, Tessa.”
I wasn’t sure if that reminder was for her or myself.
While Adam was as aloof and distracted as he’d been since elementary school, and Blake didn’t see how his attention affected me at all, Tessa swore she saw things no one else could.
She smirked. “If you say so.”
“Oh, shut up.” I brushed off her teasing as I copied Mr. Edison’s daily quote on the new page in my planner, reading it aloud as I wrote, “Home is where the heart is…”
Tessa snorted.
I shot her a look. “Is he for real?”
Her gray eyes sparkled with mischief. “Sounds accurate to me.” She shrugged. “Blake practically lives at your house, doesn’t he?”
I shushed her, glancing around to make sure no one had heard. “Keep your voice down!”
The attention Blake gave me was nowhere near the kind that other girls wanted from him. I’d lamented my annoying, unrequited crush on him over many-a-wasted diary page before resigning myself to the truth.
But the high school rumor mill churned out gossip like butter, and short of stitching a red X over my heart for his lack of attraction to me, they’d take any hint of heat and spread it like wildfire. All while the truth remained painfully obvious to me.
Blake Hawthorne saw me as his best friend’s annoying twin sister. He’d never see me as anything more.
So I didn’t need Tessa’s big mouth giving people the wrong idea. Nor did I need a new flock of cheerleaders surrounding me as they tried to get to him. Especially since Blake sat by and flirted with them, oblivious to how much that stung me.
“If his fan club hears you…” I pointed between Tessa and myself. “Friendship: over.”
She laughed. “I’m just saying! Maybe there’s a reason he always seems to find himself at your door.”
“Yeah.” I snorted. “His name is Adam Barrow. My twin and Blake’s best friend? Pretty sure you’ve heard of him.”
Mr. Edison saved me from Tessa’s response by starting morning announcements. But one minute into the homeroom period, a note landed on my desk.
Tessa stared pointedly at the blackboard.
I smoothed out the paper, blushing furiously at the drawing she’d made. Ever the art nerd, she’d sketched two figures that looked suspiciously like me and Blake. If I’d had any doubt over who she’d drawn, she’d taken care of it by writing “Mrs. Addie Hawthorne” at the top.
The giant hearts around my would-be name were completely unnecessary, and I ignored the jolt her lovely script sent through my chest.
Crumpling the note back up, I glared at Tessa as I shoved it in my pocket.
She didn’t meet my eyes.
For the rest of the homeroom period, the image of Blake’s arm around me—with his lips on mine—plagued me. Except in my mind, it wasn’t a drawing.
It was us.
And us was the last thing I needed to think about since there wasn’t one. Not like that.
I dropped my voice to a whisper. “I hate you.”
“Please,” she taunted back. “You love him almost as much as you love me.”
Rolling my eyes, I dropped my head onto my desk and groaned softly.
Because she wasn’t entirely wrong.