Second Nature (Crimson Cove Mysteries Book 2) Page 16

  My heart was not so easily persuaded, not from its current location on the floor.

  But it didn't matter because I knew he had conned me into bed, and I had fallen there easily. No persuading needed. It was me, wrestling my way out of the sports bra, nearly dislocating my shoulders to escape it.

  I dropped the blanket to the floor and walked to the fuzzy shower, opening the glass door and stepping in. I turned on the water, making it a little warmer than normal, and pressed my back against the cold slate wall. It was conflicting to be cold and hot, but it matched how I felt.

  A sound caused me to turn my head, seeing a figure moving in the bathroom. My hands naturally lifted to my breasts and groin, to cover what he had already clearly seen.

  Jake opened the door, bringing cold air with him as he stepped into the shower, no longer a fuzzy shadow. His face was still devastated, but he lifted his hands and cupped my cheeks, tilting my head back so he could press his less zealous mouth on mine. It wasn't the kiss of a young love, filled with fervor and hormones. It was something else. Something I didn't understand.

  Not until he pulled back and spoke softly with the water pouring down on us, “I should have taken you on a date, a real date. I should have bought you flowers and told you stupid things you might not know about me. I should have thrown rocks at your window to get one more kiss before we had to say goodnight. I should have watched shows about the weird things you like, like cloud formations and intense mysteries.”

  I scowled. “What?”

  “I should not have taken that from you before I deserved it.”

  Tears filled my eyes, mixing with the shower. He didn't regret having sex with me. He regretted his worthiness.

  I lifted my hands, doing the same with his face as he had done with mine. “Please don't say that.”

  “But it was your first time.” He swallowed hard, but I ignored it and leaned my head against his chest, forcing him to hug me. “It should have been romantic or something more.”

  “Jake, I know what I did. I made the choice to do it. I don't regret a second.”

  He held me and kissed the top of my head.

  “I just want to pretend a little longer.” I sighed and closed my eyes.

  “Pretend what?”

  “That everything else in our world is fine.” Because in that shower I didn't even notice the rest of the world.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Stage four virgin clinger

  My eyes wandered across the desk to the floor. There was a pattern in the floor I hadn’t noticed before. A thousand thoughts danced in my head, each one pulled at my heart or stomach in some way. I’d been on edge since Labor Day.

  Physically, all I wanted in the world was to feel Jake again.

  Mentally, that had become something of a bad idea.

  Emotionally, I was in ruin from avoiding him and hating myself for being weak.

  “You now have twenty-three minutes to complete this quiz,” Mr. Boswell reminded us.

  I had completed mine a few minutes in, just long enough to pen the answers.

  His eyes narrowed when he looked at me, always annoyed. School had been in for two weeks and his opinion of me hadn’t changed. In fact, I was starting to think it had worsened.

  The only change in our world had been that I was no longer a virgin. That, and I wasn't sleeping, even worse than before. I couldn't sleep. Guilt ate at me. Worry racked my brain. And it wasn't because someone was trying to ruin our lives. Not at all.

  After my mother’s care package of terrible facts, the killer hadn’t contacted us again. At least now the eerie silence was no longer met with the foolish notion this was over. It was met with fear and expectation.

  My friends were finally acting the way they should, and I was the one who was worried about a boy.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket, likely another text from Jake. He had started acting weird from the moment I’d left his house on Labor Day. Not that I blamed him. I was acting weird too. I hadn’t spoken to him since it happened.

  How could I?

  Mr. Boswell strolled to my desk, giving me a look. “Was that your phone?”

  “It’s in my pocket.” I nodded. “Can I hand my test in?” I lifted my paperwork.

  “If you think you answered everything sufficiently.” He took it, but as his eyes lowered to the paper in his hands he tilted his head, confused. He reached down, near my leg and the bottom of my desk, pulling out sticky notes that had been stuck underneath—white kissy-lip-shaped sticky notes. I’d seen them before. In the hidden closet at Rachel’s.

  His eyes widened. “The office, now, Ms. Allen.”

  “What?” My jaw dropped. “Those aren’t mine.” My stomach tightened.

  He held them up to the test, revealing my handwriting. “Really? Office, now!” His face was bright red and he looked angry, but there was a malicious smirk on his lips. He believed he had caught me cheating. I got up, bewildered and annoyed. If anyone in the class didn't need to cheat it was me.

  I stomped from the class, storming to the office. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and dialed my dad.

  “Lain?”

  “Daddy, my teacher thinks I’m cheating. Someone stuck sticky notes under my desk, and it’s a perfect match for my writing. My teacher hates me, and he’s going to try to get me in trouble!”

  “I’ll be there in five minutes.” He hung up. He didn't need to question whether or not I’d cheated. He knew the answer. He even knew who would do this to me.

  When I got to the office, the secretary smiled wide. “Lainey, how are you? Did your teacher send you to fetch something?”

  “I need to wait for my dad.”

  She nodded, not even noting I was upset. She honestly didn't suspect a thing. Why would she? I was the perfect student.

  I slumped into a chair and looked at my cell phone. Jake had sent a second text.

  We need to talk.

  His name made my heart hurt.

  I bit my lip and contemplated those words. I didn't want to talk. I wanted to kiss and take his shirt off and run my hands—whew! My face flushed, and it wasn't anger. He made me weak in the knees. But he was already someone else’s crush. Possibly two someone else’s, and I wasn’t like Lindsey. I couldn't overlook that fact. They were two of my best friends.

  After it happened, I’d gone from Jake’s house to mine to watch the Labor Day fireworks with my sister and mom. I’d sat there, eating my dinner and reliving each moment, each kiss or caress. Everything about it made my stomach tighten and my heart beat faster, but not because I was scared or uncomfortable. I still felt magical.

  But after I’d gone to bed that night, the magic crept away. It was the opposite of all the fairytales.

  I woke the next day and I was me again.

  I was nervous about what it meant for Jake and me.

  I worried I was pregnant, even though we’d used a condom.

  I worried that everyone saw what a slut I was.

  I was stressed that I had somehow left a mark on his sheets, and we hadn’t cleaned them. My cheeks still blushed from that.

  I was embarrassed that Jake had seen my Spiderman underwear.

  I couldn’t look Sage in the eye, and I found myself being more sympathetic to Rita and Sierra. They were not my slutty sisterhood.

  I kept the secret of what had happened and avoided Jake.

  If he was sitting at my car after school, I called Dan, our driver, and got a ride. If he came to the house, I told the staff I wasn't home, eternally. If he called, I turned the phone off.

  Somehow, I had managed ten days of not seeing him, except in class when he stared at me with a look that broke every bit of will I had. Each time I had to run just as the bell was ringing to dismiss us so he couldn’t talk to me. That was all it would take, him talking to me and giving me that stare and smelling so good. I would fall for it and Sage and Sierra would know instantly. And then Sage would really lose it. Maybe she would start helping the killer
because her friends were betraying her at every turn. And then she would be evil, and it would be my fault.

  It was a lot to be responsible for.

  Mostly because I couldn’t deny the way I felt about Jake. I had even noticed I wasn't looking at Ashton the same. We hung out and played games, and I never got back the awkward feelings I’d had around him. He became a friend. I could talk in front of him. It was Jake that made me stutter just from thinking about him.

  Thankfully, I hadn’t had to talk to him yet.

  Most of my luck had come from the fact Lindsey was too busy with Vincent, and they were in their own little world, to notice the haunted look in Jake’s eyes or the guilty one in mine. Sage had been taking care of homecoming with Rita. And Sierra had been doing her vanishing act with that same senior.

  But staring at the texts Jake had sent, I felt terrible, even if no one knew—I did. I knew what I’d done. He liked me and I wanted that to be the only truth I needed. But my friends always came first.

  I didn't regret what I should’ve, making the whole thing worse.

  “Lainey.”

  My dad’s voice lifted my gaze. “Hey.”

  He scowled. “Who is this teacher?”

  “Mr. Boswell. He’s new.”

  Dad nodded and walked to the principal’s office, no appointment or anything. He knocked and opened the door, closing it behind him. The secretary gave me a different look then. She was confused. I was too.

  While I waited, I typed several texts to Jake, deleting them all. I didn't know what to say. How did I tell him it was too much too soon? And I wasn't sure if at least one of my friends had sort of called shotgun on him.

  After a while, Dad came out of the office, laughing and smiling. He waved and closed the door. When his eyes met mine there was a sign of a win in them. “You go on home and come back tomorrow. Mr. Boswell will be sorted out.”

  “Okay.” I nodded and got up.

  He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and kissed the side of my head. “You and Mazy still coming for dinner tomorrow night?”

  “Yeah.” I didn't want to, but I knew he needed to see us as much as we needed to see him.

  “Don't say ‘yeah.’ You haven’t told anyone what I told you, right?”

  I shook my head. It was a lie; I had told Jake but kept it from everyone else.

  “Good girl. We don't need poor Vincent finding out.” He kissed the top of my head and walked for the main doors, releasing me and waving. “Be a good girl. See you tomorrow.” He left and I turned to go to my car, jumping when I saw Jake standing in the hallway. Of course he looked upset. It broke my heart to see so I lowered my gaze like a coward.

  “Why are you avoiding me? You have me acting like a girl.”

  I lifted my eyes, fighting a smile. “What?”

  “You do. You have me going crazy. I sleep outside your house, in my car, staring at your window. That's not sane.” He gulped and pressed his lips together, taking a step toward me. His dark-blue stare tormented me. The smell of him, a blend of deodorant and cologne and whatever he contributed to the mix, wafted around me. “Just tell me why you have me acting like I have a vagina?”

  “Uhm, huh?” I was a bit lost. What did vaginas have to do with anything?

  “Why are you making me crazy? Is it on purpose? Do you like toying with me?” He was getting angry. “I didn’t think you’d ever do something so evil but here we are.”

  Out of fear I blurted the one thing I could think of, “Sage.”

  He scowled. “What?” He looked even angrier. “What did she do?” He growled the question.

  “Nothing. It’s just—you and Sage. You had a thing. I think she’s always sort of liked you. She begged her parents to let her date you. And Sierra. You guys mess around a lot. I can’t be that girl who goes after the guy her friends have already—”

  “I don't shit where I eat, Lainey! I don't sleep with my friends. Sex isn’t exactly hard for me to find. I’m a goddamned Van der Wall!”

  I grimaced. “Gross.”

  He chuckled. It was bitter and harsh. “It’s the truth. There isn’t anything between me and Sage or Sierra. And if I just wanted sex, I’d get it after the football game like always. Or at any number of events my parents drag me to. Those girls are like slutty fish in a barrel.”

  “That's a lie. Not the football or slutty fish, but the Sage thing is.”

  “No, we’ve done the drunken mess around, but we don't hook up hook up. We haven’t ever. I’m not Vincent. Contrary to what you think.” He sighed. “And Sierra is into whomever she can get her grubby hands on. She doesn't do commitment and all summer she’s been banging that Mark guy in my homeroom. His mom’s a Getty for God’s sake. Sierra’s dad has probably arranged the sexy playdates.”

  “Her parents wouldn't do that to her. Sierra doesn't care about that.”

  “That doesn't change the fact she’s been seeing him all summer on the sly.” His voice rose, “And Sage is Sage. She doesn't know what she wants in life. She doesn't love anyone. She’s on robot mode and does what her mom tells her to. She panics and grasps at anyone who her mother will approve of. She needs to be accepted. It’s creepy.” He took another step. “So you need to come up with a better excuse than that for breaking my heart.” He stopped pausing or thinking and walked to me, pulling me into his arms. His lips brushed against mine, the same way they had the first time we kissed.

  “I don't have one.” I reached up, wrapping around him and letting go of everything again, melting into him and following his lead.

  “Ahem.”

  “Oh shit,” he whispered against my mouth, breaking it off and blushing. “Mr. Allen, sorry. I didn’t see you.”

  My back stiffened as I turned and winced. “Hey, Dad.”

  “I forgot my keys in the office.” He looked homicidally at Jake. I turned around completely and pressed my back into Jake’s chest, protecting him from whatever my dad was thinking about. It looked bad, whatever it was.

  “Okay.” I didn't know what to say. “See you tomorrow.” The nervous rambling started, “Can I bring Jake to dinner?”

  Dad looked like he was either going to kill Jake or cry, but he forced a smile and nodded. “Of course,” his voice broke, and he headed into the office. “See you kids tomorrow.”

  I spun and winced. “I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Inviting you to my awkward dinner.”

  He laughed and took my hand in his. “It’s better than you avoiding me.” He pulled me up the ramp to the student parking. “I need a nap. Let’s go.”

  “What?” I pulled back.

  He grinned playfully. “Oh, you owe me a nap. I haven’t slept in weeks.”

  “Just a nap. I don't want to be on an episode of Teenaged Mom or whatever that stupid show’s called.”

  He draped an arm over my shoulders and led me to his car. “I don't have the strength or energy to do anything but nap, Lain. I’m exhausted.”

  And he was true to his word.

  We drove to his house and napped in his room.

  I woke, again feeling like the walls of the room protected us from everything else. His arm, draped over my waist and pinning me to him, was a comfort like no other, except that it was cold in his room. Even he felt kind of cool.

  I sighed and closed my eyes again but my phone vibrated. I reached over his deeply sleeping body and grabbed it and my glasses, pulling them on.

  The whole world stopped.

  It was a picture of Jake and me sleeping, sent from Rachel’s phone, into the group chat, with a text below it.

  Something you want to tell everyone, Lainey?

  My breath became rapid as I looked around the room. The time on the clock in the photo was 5:13. It was now 5:40. The angle was from the far corner of the dark bedroom, where his desk sat. I scanned the area, looking for the spot the photo would have been taken from. Was it an object on the desk or the computer itself? Was the house completely bugged?


  My phone rang. I closed my eyes when it displayed Lindsey’s name, but I answered it, dreading the fact she had seen the picture but even more worried the killer might have hacked Jake’s computer or planted a camera. “Hello?”

  “Dude, what the hell?”

  “I can explain.” I shook my head as fear and panic crept into the small spaces of my mind. “Jake and I, we are kinda—”

  “I don't give a shit that you’re dating Jake. We sort of knew anyway. He told Vince he was crazy about you ages ago. I told Vincent you loved Ash, but no one cares who you date. What the hell is with the picture? Is the killer in the house with you? That pic came from Rachel’s phone.” Her voice was a whisper.

  My mind had gone to a camera, something planted that might have been watching us, but her words created a very different story in my head. “Oh God, I don't know.” I swallowed hard, pushing on Jake. “I’ll call you back.”

  “Get out of the house!” She hung up as I shoved Jake again, rolling him. He didn't budge. I pushed him onto his back, and through the shirt he wore I noted a distinct lack of rise and fall to his chest.

  I shivered, reaching with unsteady hands to the spot on his neck I should feel a pulse. My jaw trembled as I realized there was nothing and he was cool. “Jake?” I whispered. I wanted to shout and scream but there was no sound in me. Fear had crippled my body. I wanted to run, but I couldn't leave him there. Tears filled my eyes, fogging up my glasses. “Jake.”

  I pressed a quick text to Lindsey: Help me! Call 9-1-1! At Jake’s!

  There was no way the killer would let me call 9-1-1 if he was watching.

  She started messaging back, but I clicked off the phone and put it in my back pocket before trying again to find his pulse. He wasn’t so cold that I thought he was dead but there was no pulse.

  He could be drugged or just—shit!

  I dragged my fingertips up and down him, looking for a wound but there was nothing—until I found the dart in his arm. I plucked it out, staring at the red tip where his blood coated it. I dropped it on the floor, looking for an answer.