Then I push her, none too gently, toward the casino doors. Heads turn as she enters, which is probably just what she intended, because her shoulders straighten and her face gets this weird satisfied expression.
My eyes scan the room looking for Ella. I spot her laughing in the far corner as Wade whispers something in her ear. Two other football players, McDonald Samson and Greg Angelis, hover to her left. Despite my designated role as Jordan’s date, the gravitational pull to be next to Ella is irresistible.
I leave Jordan standing at the entrance, basking in the attention of her classmates, to join the most beautiful girl in the room. The moment Ella sees me, she breaks away from the group, a smile filling her entire face.
I feel better already.
“Am I imagining things or can I see Jordan’s tits in that dress?” Greg squints toward my date.
“Why don’t you go check it out up close?” I suggest, sliding an arm around Ella’s waist. It’d be nice if everyone would go the hell away so I could be alone with my girl. I only have so much freedom left and I don’t want to spend it with anyone but Ella and my brothers.
I drop a light kiss on her lips. Anything more heated and I’m bound to drag her off to the nearest dark corner, lift that pretty skirt of hers, and do at least six of the million dirty things that run through my mind every time I touch her.
“Aren’t you supposed to be Jordan’s date?” Ella says.
“Don’t remind me. I brought her, didn’t I?” But as I look into my girlfriend’s stubborn face, I realize I’m not going to weasel out of this at all.
Wade gives me a sympathetic look. “How about we go play poker?”
With relief, I take him up on the offer. “That I can do.”
Before we can find an empty table, Rachel Cohen—Wade’s mid-day fuck buddy—comes by, decked out in a slinky red dress with cutouts at the side. “Wade, sweetie! I’ve missed you!” The pretty brunette flips his tie with her finger and smiles devilishly. “You want to find a quiet place to, um, catch up?”
And we all watch with astonishment as the guy who never says no stares down at his feet. Awkwardly, he shifts from one foot to the other as he struggles to find some way to let this poor girl down easy. “I can’t right now, honey. I’m about to play some poker.”
“Aw, okay. We can meet up later, then?” Rachel is apparently a dim bulb and doesn’t catch the signal.
Wade casts a silent plea for help in our direction.
Only Ella responds. “Oh, Rachel, I think I see Easton struggling with his cards.”
The brunette perks up. “Really? I was with him earlier and he said he didn’t need any help.”
“He’s embarrassed. Tell him that I sent you.” Ella pats Rachel on the back.
“Okay,” the girl says happily. She takes a couple of steps and then turns back. “If you want to join us later, I’m cool with that. See ya, Wade.”
We wait for a few seconds before turning on my buddy.
“Seriously?” McDonald exclaims. “That chick just threw herself at you and you said no? You lose your balls or something?”
Wade scowls. “No. I just wasn’t in the mood.”
“Dude, you’re always in the mood,” McDonald says.
Greg and I nod in agreement, but Ella is smiling broadly at Wade, as if she knows something we don’t. I guess it’s about Val? I kind of figured Wade was over that already, though.
“Fuck. Whatever.” Wade grabs Ella’s arm. “Baby, I’m your date tonight and I’m not abandoning you.” He drags Ella toward a nearby table, calling over his shoulder, “You losers coming or what?”
* * *
“I’m out,” I tell Wade a bit later as I lose the last of my chips at one of the poker tables.
He frowns. “You only played a hundred bucks.”
“I gave the rest to Jordan.”
He grunts. “Is it worth it? Being shackled to her all night?”
“Who’s shackled? I haven’t seen her in an hour.”
It turns out my date might have a gambling addiction, because she hasn’t moved from the craps table since we got here. Not that I’m complaining. The less time I spend with her, the better.
“And even if she was glued to my side, yeah, it’s worth it,” I admit. Making love to Ella for the first time was the best night of my life. It’s an event I’ll replay every night for the five or so years I’m in my lonely cell. “If you wouldn’t do that for Val, then maybe she’s not the one for you.”
“I’m eighteen, dude. Since when do I have to find the one?” Wade frowns at his cards, and I don’t think it’s because he has a bad hand. He’s falling for Val and struggling with it.
I leave him alone because this is something he needs to deal with on his own. I guess eighteen is kind of young to be tying yourself to someone permanently, but I can’t imagine my future without Ella in it.
I just hope she feels the same way, especially since we’ll be separated for the next five years. Is she going to wait for me? I know it’s selfish to ask, but is it too selfish?
“You okay?” the object of my thoughts, the subject of all my desires, whispers in my ear.
I guess I’m frowning as hard as Wade. “Yeah, I’m fine. I spaced out for a moment there.”
Ella squeezes my shoulder. “Okay, well, I’m going to hang with Lauren for a bit. You know, since technically I’m not your date and your actual date is glaring big holes in my back.”
Ella’s only gone five seconds when someone softly taps my shoulder. I turn around to find Abby Wentworth standing there.
My chest instinctively softens at the sight of her pale pink dress and flowing white-blonde hair. What had drawn me to Abby was how gentle and delicate she is. She reminded me so much of my mom, and being around her was…comforting.
But now that I’m with a girl who’s so full of fire, I don’t think I could ever go back to one with the strength of a puff of steam.
And especially not a girl who would say all that shit about me to the cops.
The reminder has me stiffening. “What’s up?” I mutter to my ex.
“Can we talk?” Even her voice is delicate. Everything about Abby is so damn fragile.
“Got nothing to say to you,” I grunt, drawing startled glances from my friends. They’re all aware that I’ve always had a soft spot for this girl. But not anymore. The only thing I feel for Abby now is pity.
“Please?” she begs.
I get up only because I don’t want to embarrass her in front of everyone, but the moment we’re out of earshot, I pin her with an angry scowl.
“You told the cops I hurt you,” I hiss out.
Abby’s pale blue eyes widen. “Oh. I-I…” She visibly swallows and then her expression collapses. “You did hurt me!” she moans. “You broke my heart!”
Frustration bubbles up inside me. “For fuck’s sake, Abby, this is my life we’re talking about. I read your statement. You implied that I physically abused you and we both know that’s a goddamn lie.”
Another anguished moan rips out of her throat. “I’m s-sorry. I know it looks bad, but I swear to you I’ll go back and give another statement and make it clear that you never—”
“Don’t bother,” I snap. “I don’t want you to say another word, you hear me? You’ve already done enough.”
She flinches as if I’ve hit her. “Reed,” she whispers. “I…I really miss you, okay? I miss us.”
Oh shit. Discomfort wedges into every crevice in my chest. What the hell do I even say to that? We broke up more than a year ago.
“Everything okay here?”
Saved by Satan.
I’ve never been more relieved to see Jordan Carrington in my life, and maybe that’s why I lay a hand on my date’s arm as if she’s actually my date.
“Everything’s fine,” I say tersely.
But Abby viciously shakes her head. For the first time since I’ve known her, pure anger blazes in her eyes. “Everything is not fine!” she snaps at Jordan
, and it’s also the first time I’ve ever heard her raise her voice. “I can’t believe you came with him tonight! How could you, Jordan?”
Her friend doesn’t even blink. “I already explained why I—”
“Because of your stupid image?” Abby is seething, her cheeks redder than apples. “Because you want to be crowned the queen of some stupid dance? I told you I didn’t want you to go with him, and you totally ignored my feelings! What kind of friend does that? And who cares about your stupid social status!” She’s shrieking now, and nearly the whole room is staring at us. “I was with Reed because I love him, not because it helped my reputation!”
Again, Jordan is unfazed. “You’re making a scene, Abigail.”
“I don’t care!”
We all cringe at the deafening pitch of her voice.
“You don’t deserve him!” Abby yells between panted breaths. “And neither do you!”
It takes me a second to realize that Ella is at my other side.
“Why did you have to move here?” Abby growls at Ella. “Reed and I were doing fine before you got here! And then you showed up in your cheap clothes and your trashy makeup and your…your…whore ways—”
Jordan snickers.
“—and you ruined everything! I hate you.” Her desperate, furious gaze swings back to me. “And I hate you, too, Reed Royal. I hope you rot in jail for the rest of your stupid life!”
Abby finishes in a breathless rush.
Silence has fallen over the room. Every pair of eyes is glued to my unhinged ex-girlfriend. When she realizes it, she releases a horrified gasp and slaps a hand over her mouth.
Then she runs right out the door, her pink fairy princess dress flapping behind her.
“Well.” Jordan sounds amused. “I always knew she wasn’t the meek little thing she pretended to be.”
Ella and I don’t respond. I stare at the doorway Abby just barreled through, a weird lump of pity forming in my throat.
“Should we go after her?” Ella finally asks, but she doesn’t sound like she wants to.
“No,” Jordan answers for me, her tone haughty and her head held high. She possessively clutches my arm and yanks me away from Ella. “Come on, Reed. I want to dance. It’ll be good practice for when we’re crowned king and queen.”
I’m still too stunned by Abby’s outburst to protest, so I just led Jordan lead me away.
32
Reed
“So. That was…intense,” Ella murmurs when we walk into my bedroom a couple of hours later.
I stare at her. Intense? Talk about an understatement.
This entire night was a disaster, starting with the photos Jordan and her parents made me pose for and ending with Abby falling apart in front of a room full of people. I almost fell over in relief when Jordan didn’t press me about taking her to the after party. I guess the stupid Snowflake Queen tiara was enough to satisfy her, and luckily I didn’t even have to participate in the nausea-inducing king and queen waltz, because Wade beat me out for the king title. The only highlight of the night was watching Wade grope Jordan’s ass during their big dance, while she kept hissing for him to stop.
Ella and I were able to escape by ten o’clock, and since Steve’s not picking her up until eleven, we have an entire hour of alone time. But we’re both a little shell-shocked as we sit side by side on the edge of my bed.
“I feel really fucking bad for her,” I admit.
“Abby?”
I nod.
“Well, you shouldn’t,” Ella says bluntly. “I hate to say this, but I think Abby might be a tad delusional.”
I sigh. “A tad?”
“Okay, a lot delusional.” Ella squeezes my hand. “But it’s not your fault. You broke up with her. You haven’t led her on since. She’s the one who isn’t able to move on.”
“I know.” But I still can’t erase the image of Abby’s grief-stricken eyes from my mind.
I’ve run through these last few years with little regard for anyone but myself. I was proud of being an unfeeling asshole. Is this karma? Is me going to prison for five years punishment for the guys I’ve beaten, the girls I’ve hurt?
I’ve tried to act like nothing’s wrong. I’ve gone to classes, played football, went to Winter Formal. I’ve acted as if every day is an ordinary day in the life of a high school senior. But I can’t pretend anymore that everything is okay. Abby’s not okay. Brooke’s murder is not okay. My life isn’t okay.
Every night, I lie awake staring at the ceiling, wondering how I’ll survive inside a prison cell. It’s the wait that’s the hardest.
“Reed? What’s wrong?”
I take a breath as I meet Ella’s worried eyes. No amount of sweet words is going to take the sting away, so I speak abruptly, like pulling off a Band-Aid. “I’m going to sign the plea deal early.”
She whips around so fast, she loses her balance. I reach out and steady her, but she jerks out of my grip and shoots to her feet.
“What’d you say?”
“I’m going to sign it early. Agree to start serving the sentence starting next week instead of the first of January.” I swallow. “It’s the right thing to do.”
“What the hell, Reed?”
I rake a hand through my hair. “The sooner I go in, the sooner I’m out.”
“This is bullshit. We can solve this. Dinah paid off Ruby Myers, so that means there’s new evidence—”
“There’s no new evidence,” I interrupt.
It kills me that she’s holding on to this dream that something’s going to magically appear to get me off. Her inability to accept me going to prison or to understand why I want this sentence over with tells me all I need to know.
I can’t keep asking her to wait for me for five years. I’m a selfish jerk for even entertaining that idea. She’ll miss out on everything. What kind of senior year will she have with everyone believing her boyfriend is a murderer? What about college? I may be an asshole, but I’m not this big of one. Not to her, at least.
I brick up my heart, the useless, shitty thing, and stare down at my feet because I can’t look into her pale, beautiful face while I say the rest of the words that are galloping around my head.
“We should take a break. I’ll be inside and you’ll be out here.”
The bedroom grows so quiet, I can’t help glancing in her direction. She’s frozen in place, a hand to her mouth, her eyes as wide as platters.
“I want you to enjoy your time at college. It’s supposed to be the best time of your life.” The words taste bitter, but I push them out. “If you meet someone, you shouldn’t be thinking of me.”
I stop then, because I can’t get the rest of the lies out. The ones where I’m supposed to say that I won’t be thinking of her. That she was just a convenience. That I don’t love her.
If I say those things, it’ll truly be over. There’d be no coming back from it. No way she’d forgive me.
Be a man, I tell myself. Let her go.
I take another deep breath and gather up some more courage. But before I can open my mouth, Ella flies into my lap and mashes her lips against mine. It’s not so much a kiss as it is a slap across my face. A scolding for everything I just said and every awful thing that sits in my throat.
And while I know I shouldn’t, my arms close around her waist and I hold her, letting her kiss me.
The tears fall, sliding between our lips. I swallow her tears, my words, our despair, and kiss her back until she’s crying too hard to keep kissing me. I press her face against my chest and feel the tears soak my shirt.
“I don’t want to hear that crap from you,” she whispers.
“All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t feel guilty about moving forward with your life,” I say gruffly.
She stabs her finger into my chest. “You don’t get to tell me how I feel. No one does. Not you. Not Steve. Not Callum.”
“I know. I’m just saying...” Hell, I don’t know what I’m saying. I don’t want her to date
anyone else. I don’t want her to move on. I want her thinking about me the entire time I’m thinking about her.
But I also hate the idea of her being alone, wanting me and not being able to have me, all because I did something stupid.
“I’m trying to be a better person,” I finally say. “I’m trying to do right by you.”
“You decided what was right for yourself without asking me,” she says flatly.
I struggle to find the words to explain my position, but then her hands tangle with my belt buckle and all my good intentions fly out of my head.
“E-Ella…” I stammer. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” she taunts. Her hands deftly unzip my tuxedo trousers, sliding inside to hold me in her palm. “Don’t touch you?”
“No.” This time I’m the one backing away. My body throbs with need, but I’m not going to put my own selfish desires ahead of hers.
“Too bad. I’m touching you.” She grabs my wrist and holds it against her stomach. “And you’re touching me. Do you really want someone else to touch me like this? Are you really going to be okay with that?”
The images her words conjure in my head are terrible. The hand I have planted on her ass curls into a fist. “Don’t,” I choke out. “Don’t say that to me.”
“Why? You said it to me. I would never, ever be okay with you ‘moving on’ to another girl. That kind of betrayal would ruin us. Not you going away for five years. Not a raft full of Daniels or Jordans or Abbys or Brookes. You moving on, even for a day, for an hour, is what I’d hate.”
“I’m trying to do right by you,” I repeat. Dammit, every waking thought I have is about her these days.
“Right by me is not rejecting me. Right by me is not dictating how I’m supposed to feel. I love you, Reed. I don’t need to be told that I’m too young to know my own feelings. Maybe there is someone else out there that I might love, but I don’t care about that person. I love you. I want to be with you. I want to wait for you. What do you want?”
Her fierce declaration makes it impossible for me to stick to my guns. My own declaration bursts out of my mouth before I can stop it.