THIRTEEN #2
A dark flush crept up his neck. I didn't miss it. It was almost pathetic how much it thrilled me to see him mortified that I’d brought up another moment where he’d actually been nice to me.
“I’m sorry, Amelie,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not trying to be a dick. Truly. There’s... a lot of noise in my head right now.”
The anger melted, leaving only empathy. I stepped closer, offering a small, quiet smile. “I get it. Don’t beat yourself up. I know last night didn’t mean anything. And anyway, I have so little experience with guys that I wouldn't even know what to expect anyway.”
His armour cracked. For a split second, pure, unadulterated shame washed over his face.
“You should expect to be treated like a queen, Amelie,” he whispered, his voice dangerously soft. “You’re a good person who’s been dealt a shitty hand. Don't ever let anyone make you feel like you don’t deserve the absolute best.”
My brain stalled. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“I’m not the best,” he said, his eyes drilling into mine.
A million questions exploded in my mind, but before I could voice a single one, the bi-folding doors slid open with a sharp rattle. Cameron stepped back inside.
“Ah, Kieran. Just the person I wanted to see. We need to talk.”
Our eyes stayed locked, the unspoken words stretching between us like a taut wire until it became almost odd. Right on cue, Maisy let out a frustrated cry, holding up her blank screen. Her tablet had died.
I seized the lifeline, looking between Cameron and his son. “I’ll leave you two to it.”
“What’s wrong, Jellybean?” Kieran called out to Maisy, his tone suddenly bright, forced. He was desperate for a distraction—anything to avoid speaking with his father.
I knew what I had to do. “It’s fine, go ahead. I’ve got her.”
I walked over to the little girl, who was currently shooting daggers at the dead screen, and took her small hand in mine. “Let’s go to the cinema room, I fancy Bambi on the big screen.” Her entire face lit up.
As I led her toward the hallway, I felt a familiar wave of relief at escaping the toxic, suffocating tension that always simmered between Cameron and his son. The secret I carried—the ugly truth about Kieran’s mother—again felt heavy on my shoulders.
But as we reached the foot of the stairs, Kieran’s voice erupted from the kitchen. It wasn't the usual cold tone he used with his dad. It was raw, furious.
What the hell?
In an instant, I froze. Whatever they were fighting about had nothing to do with the past. It was about the future—I just hoped it had nothing to do with me.
* * * * *
Adam loved the pool house. When his beat-up truck rattled up the driveway, my chest tightened. I worried he’d show up in grease-stained overalls, but he proved me wrong.
My brother stepped out of his car with damp, slicked-back hair, smelling of clean soap.
Wrapped in fitted jeans, a tight black tee, and polished boots, he looked undeniably handsome.
He walked down the stone path cutting through the back of the massive Rook estate with a new air of confidence.
He didn't hesitate. He firmly shook Cameron and Vanessa’s hands before pulling me into a warm hug—a stark contrast to his guarded distance at the garage.
Banter flowed effortlessly as we toured the self-contained space of the pool house.
It was compact, modern, and perfect for one.
“The pool house is yours if you want it,” Vanessa offered with a warm smile.
While our aunt and uncle went inside for drinks, Adam and I claimed a table on the sun-washed terrace.
The old Adam—the one who sneered at stuck-up rich people—was gone and in his place sat someone grateful, open, and relaxed—a version of Adam I hadn’t seen in years.
At home with our parents, you spent most days living on the edge.
Eventually, Vanessa and Cameron returned, trailing Jessa and Maisy.
Kieran and Lincoln were still missing, something about basketball practice, Vanessa said.
A sharp sting of disappointment hit me; I desperately wanted to introduce my brother to Kieran, especially if Adam was moving onto the property.
They were so similar that I knew they’d get along.
When they were first introduced, Jessa looked awkward, suddenly shy, almost. I hid a grin, knowing Adam’s sharp jawline and athletic build may intimidate girls, even ones as confident as Jessica Rook. I knew that exact feeling all too well from my own tongue-tied encounters with Kieran.
Later that night, I lay awake listening for the heavy thud of Kieran’s boots returning from practice. Exhaustion won, and I drifted off right on top of my covers. Adam had agreed to a trial run at the estate, and I couldn’t wait to tell Sophie.
The next day, Jessa and I drove to school, and she overwhelmed me with a million questions about Adam in the car.
The odd thing was that they were not the type of questions I expected.
I thought Jessa might ask what he did for a living, whether he had a girl, and, if not, what his type was.
But the questions were all relating to his ability to blend and his tolerance levels.
In between classes, I wondered whether to message Kieran to ask if he wanted to meet for lunch.
Something I had never done, considering his original ‘stay away from me at school’ message, but surely things had changed now.
We’d kissed. And even though we agreed it couldn’t go any further.
We were now in the friendzone, weren’t we?
"Hey, Amelie. Wait up.” I was just on my way to a study session in the library.
The voice that called out was deep, slicing through the chaotic roar of the morning hallway.
I turned, nearly slamming my face into a wall of grey cotton.
As I stepped back and looked up, I was met with high cheekbones, a smirk that knew its own power, and eyes that were way too sharp for a Monday.
It was him. The guy from the party. The one who almost started fighting with Kieran.
“We met at Weston Cavendish’s house. Aaron, remember?”
“Yes, of course I remember.” My heart did a nervous little flip. I tightened my grip on my backpack straps like a shield. "And sorry about the vanishing act."
“I heard you were carried out of there.” Aaron leaned against the row of lockers, invading my personal space just enough to make it intentional.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Rook’s a pro at throwing his weight around.
It’s kind of his brand. I thought it a shame, because we were actually having fun. "
Were we?
I shrugged, my eyes darting down to my scuffed sneakers. "He was just being protective, I suppose," I murmured, though honestly, Kieran's explosive reaction had completely baffled me—as had his behaviour ever since. Talk about hot and cold.
"Protective?" Aaron let out a dry, humourless laugh that echoed off the metal lockers.
"Is that what you think? Trust me, Amelie, guys like Kieran don't protect people out of the goodness of their hearts.
" He leaned in closer, his voice dropping below the roar of the hallway noise.
"Anyway. Who are you having lunch with today? I’ve seen you usually eat with Halo Dumas and Jessica Rook. "
I rubbed my temples, the fluorescent lights overhead making my eyes throb. "I’m not sure.”
"Perfect. Eat with me." He tilted his head, a playful spark in his eye. "Unless, of course, you need to ask Kieran for permission first."
“No, of course not," I snapped, a little too quickly. I softened my tone, trying to mask my irritation. "I’m just not the best company today.” Both my lessons that morning had been pointless; I didn’t understand half of what I was reading, and I knew I needed to get some more study time in.
"Tough morning?" he asked, his gaze narrowing with genuine curiosity.
"No, just... sensory overload, I think."
"Well, do you want to eat with me?" Aaron checked his watch. "I can meet you outside Peppers at one." Peppers was the name of the main dining hall.
I realised that Jessa said she had football practice at lunch, and I wasn’t sure where Halo was. "Yes, thank you. I’d like that." I told myself I needed to get her number.
"Cool." Aaron smiled, stepping back to give me room to breathe. "See you at one then. Do you know where you’re going right now? You look a little lost?”
"The library," I admitted, clutching my books tighter.
"Let me walk you."
I had been at Northridge a while now and knew my way around campus, but his offer was sweet. "Thanks, Aaron."
After a beat of silence, he side-eyed me, saying, “So, is it true that you and Kieran are living in the same house? I heard it’s massive.”
“Yes, my aunt is his stepmother.”
“Ah, yes, I remember.”
We fell into step together, navigating the sea of students who were staring at both of us.
I was still the girl Kieran Rook carried out of Weston Cavendish’s party at the end of the day.
That stuff still hadn’t fully died down.
Desperate to change the subject from Kieran, I glanced at him. “So, what are you studying here?”
We wove through the crowded corridor, and the banter was easy and naturally fell off the tongue.
Aaron explained he was studying economics, science, and maths, while I explained my choice of health course.
I didn't hide the fact that I felt like a total duck out of water and that the entire campus felt massive, loud, and still, a little alien to me.
And then, Aaron dropped the one question I had been actively trying to avoid.
"Where’d you go before here?”
I hesitated, clinging to the straps of my backpack like a parachute. “Err...” I bit my lip, bracing for the inevitable judgment. "I was home-schooled."
Aaron stopped dead in his tracks. A couple of younger students almost crashed into his back, but he didn't notice. A look of pure disbelief crossed his face. "Fuck, plot twist. You’re shitting me. No wonder this place is giving you a massive headache."