13. Thirteen
THIRTEEN
H arley
I wake up to my alarm going off. It’s too loud. Groaning, I roll over and dismiss it on my phone. Opening one eye, I find a glass of water with a sticky note on it that says, ‘drink me’. I open my other eye and sit up. Next to the glass is another sticky note labeled ‘take me’ with three ibuprofen resting on top of it.
The unfamiliar handwriting has my brows pinching together in confusion. My head throbs and I’m nauseated because of the hangover. I swipe the ibuprofen and pop them in my mouth, using the water to wash them down. Glancing at the door, I see it open a crack.
A soft knock sounds.
“Come in,” I croak out.
Alicia pushes the door open, holding a to-go box in her hand. “Breakfast delivery from lover boy.”
My eyebrows pull together. “Lover boy?”
“Is that not what we are calling him? Knight in shining armor? No, that won’t do. Ooo! Prince Charming!” Alicia says excitedly.
“Who?” I demand.
She lifts an eyebrow. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
I make grabby hands for the food she is currently holding hostage. Alicia comes in, plopping herself onto the edge of my bed and hands me the to-go box. I flip it open, finding all the greasy breakfast foods inside.
“The last thing I remember?” I ask quietly. She nods, waiting for my response. “The sunset?” I squeak out.
“Jesus,” she mutters under her breath. “Okay. Let me fill you in. Sometime before ten, Jax knocked on the door with a very intoxicated Harley in his arms. He put you to bed, put water and ibuprofen next to your bed, threatened to bring harm to every person who has ever hurt you, and then sent breakfast to the door five minutes ago.”
My eyes bug out of my head. “I’m sorry. Come again?”
“Which part?”
“All of it?”
Alicia studies me carefully. “I think you may have told him some shit last night, sister.”
“Like what?”
She shrugs. “Not sure. I asked him how bad it was. Because I know you don’t drink, and you were wasted. He basically told me whatever you told him made him homicidal. Said you’ve had the light snuffed out of you.”
I place the food down in front of me and drop my head into my hands. Pressing my palms into my eye sockets, I groan loudly. My head hurts so bad.
“He’s not necessarily wrong,” I admit.
“Okay, that’s it. Eat and talk, girlfriend. We aren’t leaving this bed until you tell me what the hell happened last night and what you mean by that statement.”
I start off by telling her what happened last night with my parents. There’s no way to slowly build anyone up to tell them that your father has been screwing underage girls. She was disgusted and angry along with me. But when I start telling her about my senior year of high school, followed by the first two years of my college experience, she becomes murderous.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she snaps once I finish telling her the very last bit.
I shake my head. “No. I wish I was, but no.”
“I swear to god, if she is at the BCU home game, I will fight her myself.”
“Alicia…”
“No! Don’t Alicia me, Harley. That bitch deserves to have someone punch the daylights out of her.” She gives me a hard look. “Your parents never did anything to stop it?”
Shaking my head again, I drop my gaze to the almost empty container. “Maria’s father is the VP of my father’s company. We were best friends until she decided to flip a switch.”
Her brows dip. “What made her flip a switch?”
Swallowing, I say quietly, “Her boyfriend of four years broke up with her because he decided trying to cash in on my virginity would be more fun.”
“And that was your fault?” she shrieks.
I shrug. “I need to get ready. I don’t want to talk about my parents or Maria anymore,” I mumble.
Alicia reaches out and squeezes my knee. “I’m here for you, Har. And I will never do what Maria did to you.”
I clear my throat. “I know. Thanks for listening and thanks for telling me about Jax. I would have never known otherwise.”
She smiles at me. “He’s totally falling for you, babe.”
I feel my cheeks flush. “Yeah, I guess we will see what happens.”
With a wink, she disappears down the hall toward her own bedroom. Sighing, I get up and quickly dress in a pair of leggings and a hoodie. My face is a wreck, so I wash all the makeup from it and pull my hair into a bun on top of my head.
I grab my backpack and head out of the dorm. I still have plenty of time to make it to class, so I detour to the cafeteria and get myself a coffee.
Walking down the hall toward Professor Gordon’s room, I try to remember what happened between Jax and I last night. My eyes are trained on the floor, watching my every step. It isn’t until I’m standing next to my desk that I realize I’ve walked into class.
A throat clears to my right. I look up to see dark eyes staring at me. A sexy smirk plays at the corners of his lips. My cheeks heat and I drop my backpack to the floor before sliding into my desk.
I’m awkward. What do you even say to a guy after you don’t remember anything from the night before? Do I say thank you? Do I ask him to inform me what I said to him? Ugh, I am not cut out for this shit.
Unzipping my backpack, I pull out a notebook and go to grab my pencil bag. I come up empty. Panic starts to set in as I shove my hand into my backpack and rummage around.
Nothing.
“Rotten potatoes,” I mutter, pulling every book out of my bag.
My backpack is now completely empty, all my things stacked on top of the desk in front of me, sans pencil bag. My pens. My highlighters.
“Pineapple, mango, butternut squash, zucchini slices!” I hiss, starting to return all my books to my bag.
“Something wrong, Davidson?” Jax asks, failing to hide his amusement.
“I can’t find my pencil bag,” I admit begrudgingly.
“Here.” He holds out a pen for me.
I stare at the dark pink pen in his beefy fingers. My dark pink pen. I spin in my chair, snatching it from his hand. I’m hoping that if looks could kill, this is one of them.
“Where did you get this?” I snap.
Jax shrugs, waggling his eyebrows. “Secrets don’t make friends.”
“I will kill you.” I point the clicker of the pen at him. “And I’ll make it look like a happy accident.”
“Happy accident, ay?” His dark brows pull together, creating this crease that I have to force myself not to reach out and smooth with my fingers.
“Yes,” I hiss out venomously. “Give me back my pens and highlighters, Zayden Stone. Or there will be?—”
He cuts me off. “Cucumbers to pay?”
“Ha. Ha. You are quite the comedian,” I say dryly.
I turn around and face the front, waiting for class to start. Fingers stroke strands of my hair that are sticking out of my messy bun. My breathing picks up. I straighten my spine, bringing my back flat against the desk chair.
“What are you doing?” I whisper shout.
Jax’s weight shifts behind me, and then I hear him say right in my ear, “No braid today.”
“Is there a problem with that?”
His fingers drag up to the nape of my neck. Goosebumps erupt across my entire body. “I guess I miss the curls. That’s all.”
His touch sends my nerves into chaos. He drags his fingertips into my hair before retreating back down my bare neck. I involuntarily shiver from the touch.
Jax leans back in his desk, his fingers leaving my skin. Immediately my body craves his touch again. I forget about my crappy parents for a moment. Along with everything I’ve suffered through the past three years. Because all that matters anymore is that touch from Jax.
I want him to brush the tips of those long fingers down my spine again and again.
Classes go by seamlessly. Minus the fact that Jax is holding all my pens and highlighters hostage. He hands me a new one with each class. With each pen and highlighter handed my way, it becomes clear that he’s memorized the method to my madness. He even hands me the correct shade of blue highlighter during our history class.
After all our classes are wrapped up for the day, I head to the cafeteria to meet Alicia for lunch. I grab a lettuce wrap and a bottle of water, then drop down next to her at a table.
“I don’t know what to do, Cia,” I groan. “I have to go. I can’t get out of it even if I tried.”
“What about Jax?” she hisses.
“It’s not like I’m dating him. If I was, that would be the only reason to get me out of going. If I don’t go, my parents will likely cut me off. And yes, my mother is that dramatic, and yes, my father would allow her to make that decision.” I nip all of her questions in the bud.
“Well, then I guess you will just have to go,” she sighs. “But you’re totally not following that stupid dress code your mother sent in that email.”
I gasp, “You should lead the rebellion there, Cia.”
She straightens her spine. “I know. I would be an excellent leader.”
Tuesday morning, I sneak into the hockey locker room after spending the entire night dyeing Jax’s practice jerseys hot pink. All of them except for the one that I’ve worn to bed every night since the hockey game against BCU.
The pink jerseys are in retaliation for my pencil bag. I will fight him for that bag. Not having all my pens to color coordinate my notes is throwing off my study process.
I walk into class with my head held much higher than yesterday, even though I still have no idea what Jax and I talked about on Sunday. When his dark eyes find me from his seat, I feel the corner of my mouth tug up.
He raises a single eyebrow, and his eyes slowly drag up the length of my body. Heat builds low in my stomach. Today I’m wearing my knee-high black boots and a white long-sleeved dress that stops mid-thigh. The skirt flares out, making it look longer than it actually is.
I close the distance between me and my desk. Without a word, I take my seat and pull the necessary things from my backpack. Jax leans to the left out of his desk, watching my hands as I do.
“Your skin is pink, Davidson,” he informs me.
“Aren’t you captain obvious today,” I quip.
“Why are your hands pink?”
I give him a saccharine smile and a wink before facing forward. The desk creaks behind me beneath his weight. I know his face has come up right next to mine.
“You better tell me why those hands are pink, doe eyes. Or I’ll find something other than the cheeks on your face to pinken,” he says in a low rumble.
I take in a sharp breath and turn my head. His nose brushes against mine and I meet his dark stare. He’s so close, I can see the gold flecks in his eyes.
“Did you just threaten to spank me?” I whisper.
His lips curve up and I get a glimpse of his rare smile. All straight, white teeth. “Oh, pretty girl. I’ll make good on that threat one day, and I promise, when I’m finished, you’ll beg for more.”
The breath stalls in my lungs. His words have me convinced that there is now a wet spot on this seat beneath me. I squeeze my thighs together, trying to relieve a pressure I didn’t know I was capable of having.
His smile grows and becomes wicked. Wicked and so, so sexy. He moves his head around to the opposite side, brushing my hair away from my ear. I can feel his lips brushing the curve of my ear. “Your pussy wet for me, Davidson? Think I can make it weep for me? I promise to do it from my knees.”
I can’t make my brain form a coherent sentence. All that comes out is a squeak. He chuckles softly, sitting back in his seat. When Professor Gordon starts class, I have to bury my face in my notes to maintain focus and retain any of the information.
Either Jax just stepped up his game, or he is actively thinking about all the dirty things he wants to do to me.