Chapter twelve Rylan
Chapter twelve
Rylan
“Why isn’t it working?” Bexley grumbles anxiously, reaching over me to aggressively tap the screen with her finger.
I pull the phone away from her reach. “I’m trying to figure that out. Whacking it won’t help.”
She snorts in reply. “All technology works better with the occasional slappy-slap. And if that fails, turn it off then flash it. Or turn it on. Whatever it is they say.”
Shaking my head, I hold back a laugh. Bexley’s still practically draped across my lap, eyes glued like a crazed madwoman to my phone screen.
Where is Tai Beckett when you need him? I bet he’d have this sorted already.
Lawless Dragons posted a cryptic message on socials last night, the ominous graphic only displaying a countdown timer to a scheduled Tiktok live. And just our luck, it’s in the middle of the day while we’re stuck at the academy.
Thankfully, Bexley had the period free. As for me, I just didn’t show up to class.
No doubt I’ll hear about it later. It won’t take long until Marcus gets word of my absence and calls my father. But hey—the asshole will have to talk to me then.
Still no luck with my bank accounts but I’m a patient man. If he thinks I’m going to come crawling and begging for compassion, he’s incredibly mistaken. I have all I need right here.
“Did you tap the thingy button?” She asks, sliding the top of my screen down. “Oh, fuck’s sake, Ry. The wifi isn’t even turned on.”
“What?” I yelp, stunned. “It’s always on.”
Bexley taps the button and within seconds, we’re all systems go. The Tiktok live pops up, the screen immediately filling with hundreds of comments as everyone waits.
Both of us breathe a loud sigh of relief. We haven’t missed it. Thank fuck.
“You’re unbelievable,” Bex murmurs with a soft laugh, lounging back in her chair. “I’m actually concerned for you.”
“It’s always on,” I groan. “Maybe you bumped it this morning when you accosted me in the parking lot.”
She cocks an eyebrow, lips twitching in amusement. “I did no such thing, Astor.”
“You literally tackled me back into my truck when I stepped out. My poor phone has never been yeeted so violently. It might need therapy now.”
Shrugging coolly, she smiles. “I make no apologies. And if I’m not mistaken, you had no complaints.”
It’s embarrassing the sound that slips out of me—a low, guttural groan—as I shift awkwardly in my chair. Yeah—definitely no complaints here.
After I was spontaneously and aggressively crash-tackled back inside the truck, Bexley had pulled my cock out and shoved it down her throat before I could even say, “Good morning,” or “What the hell are you doing?”.
Minor bruise aside from landing on the handbrake, absolutely no damn complaints. I’ll take a hundred bruises if it means experiencing that again.
I place a hand on her bare thigh, running it provocatively under her skirt. “I’ll never stop you from doing that. Just as long as I can eat your pretty little cunt whenever I like.”
There’s no resistance when I edge higher, her legs parting before my fingertips find her thin underwear. This is dangerous.
I had managed to find an empty classroom for us to sneak into to watch the Tiktok live but anyone could open the door and catch us in here.
Pausing, I actually start to consider the idea, realizing how little I care about being busted. I’m firmly in my malicious compliance phase and it should make me sick how much joy it brings to imagine my father’s face if something like that ever got back to him.
How flushed would he get? I bet we could discover a new shade of red and pop a blood vessel.
“It’s starting!” Bexley squeals, snapping her legs shut suddenly as she launches forward to get closer to the screen.
I growl under my breath, retrieving my hand. “Mean.”
Grinning, she leans over and places a peck on my lips. “Plenty of time for that later. But I’m too tired to deal with cranky Rylan if you miss the announcement. Pay attention,” she directs, wiggling her finger in a motion for me to turn around.
My small chuckle is drowned out as the band appears with their signature black and cyan banner in the background.
“Wow,” I murmur, wonderstruck. “They are really going all out with this new era.”
Their instruments are decked out in the new neon green and black steampunk style they revealed a few weeks back, and when the band’s lead vocalist steps in front of the camera, I feel Bexley gravitate closer to me in anticipation.
“Alright, Dragonettes. Are you ready to fuck shit up? We have a surprise for you, and if you hang around, a little encore treat.”
Bexley gasps. “Another new song!” she squeaks excitedly. “Fuck yes.”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I’ve got a countdown timer set on my phone’s home screen—just four more days until the new album drops. Bexley and I have been clawing at the little teasers, downing them like we’ve been wandering the desert for days, desperate for any drop of water.
Lawless Dragons start playing, the punk rock vibes hitting hard and giving us both goosebumps. Ripping my gaze away from the screen, I find myself looking at Bex, wanting to watch her reaction.
And it’s just as beautiful as I expected.
Her wide eyes are sparkling, glued to the screen as pure happiness radiates across her whole face. It actually steals my breath away in an instance, captivated by the sight.
It’s easily the happiest I’ve ever seen her. And I get to see that and share this moment with her.
Before now, I never knew it was possible to experience nirvana just from witnessing someone’s happiness.
“Bex,” I say softly, heart missing a beat entirely when she pulls her gaze from the screen to look at me. Her expression doesn’t shift, that bliss now reflecting at me.
“Yeah?” She asks, voice husky and light.
There’s no going back now. The moment is too perfect, and I can’t stop myself even if I wanted to.
“I love you.”
Bexley glitches for a quick second, rapidly blinking as Lawless Dragons play in the background. “What did you say?” She whispers.
“I love you, Bex,” I repeat firmly, letting it show across my face so that she can see how serious I am.
Her breathing hitches, eyes becoming slightly unfocused as her brain processes the situation.
Okay—perhaps I could have planned this moment a little better. But fuck it. We’re here now.
Surprise to both of us.
I start to worry when she doesn’t say or do anything, but I don’t push. We’re too alike for our own good. The best thing I can do is let her have the time she needs, give her equal control.
Because this shit is vulnerable.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified.
But at least I had some prior warning. It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot recently, and I’d been waiting for the perfect moment to confess my feelings.
But Bexley has just had the world’s biggest revelation sprung on her, so it’s natural she’s working through some things.
“I… uh,” she murmurs, trailing off as her face contorts with disbelief and astonishment, mashed with the earlier happiness that’s still etched into her features.
“You don’t have to say it back,” I tell her reassuringly. “I just wanted to say it. It felt right.”
It stings a little when her body relaxes, but she’s not running away or doing something crazy like punching me, so I tell myself to be patient.
I know what we have is real. I can feel it—in our chemistry, in our power-fighting banter, and most importantly, in the quiet moments when there’s no expectations. The peace.
Her eyes finally meet mine. “Did you pay my hospital bills?” She asks randomly.
“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“I suspected it,” she admits quietly. “I was too scared to ask though.”
“Why?”
Bex’s lips tilt into a half-cocked smile. “Because it meant we’d be having this conversation and I wasn’t ready for the truth.”
“And you’re ready now?”
“No,” she laughs softly, gazing shyly at the ground. “But if I keep avoiding it, I’ll never be ready. It’s probably the first time in my life I wasn’t chasing answers.”
Nodding with complete understanding, I relax back into my chair. “It’s scary, isn’t it?”
“Love means something to lose,” she whispers, the raw admission so barely audible that my ears strain to catch each syllable. “And I’ve already lost so much.”
I squeeze her hand in mine. “You have,” I agree. “It’s not fair.”
“Did you do it because of my mom?” Bexley asks, and when her eyes flicker back up to mine, they are shining with unshed tears.
I entwine our fingers together, preparing her, because even though we both know the answer, it’s not going to make it hurt any less. “I didn’t want you waking up in the place you lost her, trapped between four walls you couldn’t escape from.”
Bexley nods at my reply, a tear slipping down her cheek which she hastily brushes away. “Thank you.” Pausing, her brows furrow together before her stare somehow intensifies. “You really love me?”
Her voice cracks on the word that I know haunts her, and I hate the fact that everything in her life has made her be afraid of this.
Afraid of something we all crave. Something pure and innocent.
But who wouldn’t be petrified when everyone who’s ever claimed to love you has left in one way or another?
“Yep,” I confirm effortlessly, attempting to lighten the mood. “Hey, the song’s done.”
Bex lets out a shaky breath but shuffles back closer as we return our attention to Lawless Dragons.
Dang—I knew I should have placed that bet. The band announces their upcoming tour just as we suspected.
We watch the rest of the live in silence, and while no words pass between us, Bex keeps a snug hold of my hand, refusing to let go, saying what she’s not ready to admit out loud yet.
To my actual surprise, I ended up in detention for skipping class.
Normally, I’d be irked and arrange a way out of it, but I’m utterly fascinated by the man in front of me.
Even if I wasn’t familiar with all the teaching staff, it’s abundantly clear he belongs to Cedar Heights. None of the Willowbrook teachers would ever be caught dead with lavender hair and mismatched clothing.
No, really. It’s fascinating. He’s completely unbothered with being here—both detention and Willowbrook in general—and despite some of the less than welcoming remarks I’ve heard, he’s still so… perky.
What’s even more surprising is I’m the only student in detention, so it’s just the two of us, staring off at each other.
“Go on,” he says with a short laugh, beaming at me. “I can see that mind swirling with questions. Fire away.”
I chuckle, amused. “It’s that obvious?”
Mr. Martin—I think—grins, twirling a fluffy pink pompom keychain around his finger. “Curious minds are the hardest to hide. Come on,” he baits teasingly. “I promise I’ve heard it all. But I’d be a lousy teacher if I left you curious.”
Folding my arms, I lean back, stretching my legs out. “Curiosity killed the cat,” I reply.
“Exactly! So, what’s on your mind, Rylan?”
I don’t ask how he knows my name. I could assume it’s on a list in front of him, but then again, my reputation precedes me just as much as Bexley’s does.
“Did you volunteer to sub in?” I ask.
Mr. Martin nods. “Absolutely! Why not? I can’t miss seeing my seniors finish off their year. Plus, new adventures and all.”
“You’re strangely game.”
“Education and learning have no limitations,” he answers. “My job is to teach whomever wants to learn. I’d teach a trash bin to tango if it asked nicely.”
My heartily laugh has him grinning like a Cheshire cat. Feeling brave, I jump straight into the most obvious question.
“Tell me about Bexley,” I start. “What is she like at Cedar Heights?”
“Ahh,” he hums, mulling over the question as a fond expression appears on his face. “She’s one of a kind, young Bexley. Probably the most loyal student I’ve met. You’re not a spy trying to gain intel, are you?” He asks jokingly. “Because I’d have to tell her.”
I shake my head, biting back a grin. “Hey—whatever happened to teacher-student confidentiality? Have you seen her throw a right hook? You’re practically endangering my life if you do.”
Mr. Martin leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk and plopping his chin on his entwined hands. “She’s fond of you.”
“What makes you say that?” I implore. “Maybe you’re the spy in this room.”
He throws his hands up defensively. “Me? No, never. But I have seen you together.”
Hopefully not in my truck… Dammit, Bex. Do not get hard, Rylan. Settle the fuck down.
I’m still in crisis stop-erection mode when he presses on.
“She’s happy around you,” he marvels. “Able to let her guard down a little. Which, yes, perhaps I should be discouraging. Feud and all,” he says sarcastically with a laugh, fingers making air quotes.
“Maybe,” I agree humorously. “But the feeling is mutual.”
“So, I don’t have to worry about you being a sleeper cell spy?”
“Nope,” I chuckle. “But I’d be on the lookout for one Tai Beckett. He might try to find out your secrets—possibly ask for the color of your hair dye.”
The parking lot is deserted when detention is over with only a few remaining vehicles scattered around. Which makes it horribly easy to spot the waiting person standing by my truck.
“What do you want now, Olivia?” I grouch at her. “It’s been a long day and I’m tired.”
Liv uses her foot to kick off from my front wheel. “Must be so exhausting being the great Rylan Astor,” she taunts. “The poor little rich boy with everything he wants. Well, except for the one thing money can’t buy.”
Fuck’s sake. When will I get a break from this psycho?
“Okay,” I scoff, unlocking my car door and tossing my bag inside. “I’ll bite if it gets this conversation over with quicker. What don’t I have?”
I don’t bother turning around to face her, uninterested in whatever she has to say.
“Bexley Spencer’s love.”
Stiffening, I take a second to make sure I heard her correctly, before twisting my neck to glance over my shoulder. “What did you say?” I demand through clenched teeth.
Liv smirks, hip popped to one side with folded arms. “I love you, Bex,” she mimics in a deep, mocking tone. Sighing extra dramatically, she feigns a look of concern. “Really, Rylan? I’m disappointed. She’s so beneath you.”
“Only when I’m fucking her,” I snap back. “Which means she has more than you.”
Shit.
I can’t give her any ammo. Get control, you idiot.
“Cute,” Liv snickers mockingly, batting her eyelashes. “I’d wish you good luck but I really don’t want to lie.”
Laughing, she turns without elaborating, walking off. I stare daggers at her back before forcing myself to get in the truck instead of chasing after her to demand answers.
“Fuck!” I growl, hitting the steering wheel.
This is bad. Really fucking bad.
All I wanted to do was tell Bexley how I feel, to give us both a nice distraction from the chaos that’s trying to fucking drown us.
I’ve just fucked everything up. Any second now shit’s going to get a lot worse. Shots are heading straight for Bexley and it’s all because I handed them the damn gun.