She’d gotten smart with me before. And before France, she’d taken some risks.
But every time, she’d seemed nervous and on the verge of tears. Now, she looked perfectly comfortable, almost as if this was all a waste of her time.
Good.
Stepping up my game should be fun. And a welcome distraction.
Coming to stand in front of her, I felt heat and a familiar sweet ache in my pants.
Shit. A fucking hard-on right now?
My dick throbbed in my pants, but I tried to ignore it.
Yeah, my body was attracted to hers. So what? I was attracted to most things that wore skirts. Or pajama shorts with black hoodies and Chucks.
My emotions ran wild with Tate, but I knew I couldn’t fuck her. It’d be a cold day in hell before I gave her that kind of power over me.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy the view, either.
“Take this off,” I grabbed the hem of her little black sweatshirt, “and give me a lap dance.”
Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
And I noticed the more nervous, and not so confident, break to her voice, and it was like music to my ears.
My gazed firmed up as I challenged her. “I’ll put on Remedy—still your favorite song?—you give me a quick lap dance, and the party’s over.”
Would I really stop the party? No. There would be no situation where I would actually give her what she wanted.
And I would enjoy teaching her that fact. I really hoped, though, that she wouldn’t take me up on the offer. Don’t get me wrong. Having her body rubbing against mine wouldn’t suck, but I wouldn’t be able to just fuck her and leave. I walked a thin line with Tate, and I knew I’d want seconds.
She looked at me for a minute, several emotions crossing her sweetly cruel face. Consideration as she actually looked like she was thinking about it. Then anger when she realized she’d only end up being humiliated. Defeat when she accepted that there really was no win here for her. And loss when sadness crossed her glassy eyes. Not sure what that was about. And then something different.
Her brow relaxed, and she tipped her chin down, looking up at me.
Shit.
I knew that look. I wear it all the time.
Defiance.
She twisted around, her hair flying over her shoulder, and my heart skipped a beat as she began shouting throughout my house at the top of her lungs.
“Cops!” she screamed into the living room. “Cops! Everyone get out of here! Cops coming in the backdoor! Run!”
Motherfucker!
I watched, helplessly, as all of the drunk and high idiots hanging out at my house dashed to make their escape.
What the hell? They actually believed her!
Heat flared up my neck, and I folded my arms over my chest to keep my heart from jumping out of my body.
People scattered out of the house, fleeing out of the kitchen and living room and through the front door like there was a fucking fire. Most of them were underage, so they had reason to be on alert, but still? You’d think the stupid shits would at least look around first.
But no, they just fled.
And in no time at all, my house was almost empty. Except for the ones already passed out and whoever was hidden upstairs in the bedrooms.
Blood pumped through my veins like hot sugar, the pain almost unbearable but so mouth-watering that I craved more. Something had changed in her, and now she was challenging me.
Hell, yes.
Approaching my target, I smiled and let out a condescending sigh. “I’ll have you in tears in no time,” I promised.
She stared at me, almost amused. “You’ve already made me cry countless times.” And she raised her middle finger to me. “Do you know what this is?” she asked as she took it and patted the corner of her eye with it. “It’s me, wiping away the last tear you’ll ever get.”
And she turned around and walked out.
My mouth wouldn’t close, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the empty doorway.
Holy shit.
Tingling started in my throat, and I lost my breath as I started laughing.
Son of a bitch, I was smiling, too.
I couldn’t believe she’d just said that to me. That was definitely a challenge.
Oh, baby. It’s on.
“Well, she’s different.” Madoc was behind me, and I blinked away my smile.
I turned around to face him. “You touched her?” My tone threatened.
“Sorry, man.” He looked at me like he hadn’t been told ten times already to keep his hands off of her. “I forgot. Won’t happen again.” He shrugged his shoulders and walked back to the kitchen.
Yeah, it better not.
I didn’t know if he was really coming onto Tate. Sam said he was touching her, but Madoc was a good friend who knew the boundaries.
I wasn’t sure what he was up to.
I glanced once more to the front door, remembering how Tate just walked out with her head high, her voice steady, and more confidence than I’d ever seen in her.
Game on.
My shoulders relaxed, and I climbed the stairs and went to bed. This time without a sleeping pill and without any thoughts of my father.
Chapter 10
“Ugh, I think my dick is broken,” Madoc groaned as he adjusted himself right in the middle of the hallway at school.
I shook my head at him before nodding to a couple of friends passing by.
“Then stick to girls, asshole,” I joked. “They’re probably softer than the guys you like.”
Strolling down the hallway on the first day of Senior year, I felt a breeze washing over me that no one else felt. Madoc was bragging about his conquests, I got the classes I wanted, and I was almost done with the visitations to the prison.
In the time that Tate had been back, and a week since her escapade at my party, I’d slept peacefully, too. I almost felt happy.
“So,” Madoc spoke up. “Tate’s got a little fan club already. I’m assuming you’ve heard the talk.”
I had. As much as I hated the few things I’d heard other guys saying about her, they weren’t necessarily bad things. No one had mentioned her tits or ass, so I wouldn’t have to pound them into the pavement.
No, they just talked about how beautiful she looked. About how she carried herself now. Confidence she’d gained abroad, I was sure.
And I loved the attention she was getting. After all, the higher she rose, the harder she’d fall.
“Tatum isn’t even in her own fan club,” I mumbled.
We grabbed some food and sat down at our usual table in the cafeteria. Madoc ate like the athlete in The Breakfast Club. He almost needed two trays for the sandwiches, pizza, chips, Gatorades, and brownies he bought, whereas I hated eating big meals during the day. A sandwich or burrito and a couple of drinks were my usual.
The result: Madoc fell asleep during his afternoon classes, and I could make it through work with energy to spare.
“So how are we doing this?” He addressed his question to me as Sam and his friend, Gunnar, parked it at the table and began digging into their food.
Placing the cap back on my bottle of water and wiping the back of my hand across my lips, I peered up at him, not sure what conversation he’d started that I’d missed. “How are we doing what?”
“Tate,” he said as if I should’ve known. “Are we or are we not leaving her alone this year?”