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He yanked my hand from under the covers and pressed my fingers to his full lips. “Shit, Ms. Greene got brave.”
“I’m about to get braver and offer you breakfast.” I didn’t know what I was saying or why I was saying it, but I knew I didn’t want him gone. Not yet.
“You literally have nothing other than alcohol.” Jaime laughed a throaty laugh, the type that left your mouth after you’d had a long night of sleep.
“I’ll go out and get some groceries. You wait here.” I gave him half a shrug.
“Or here’s a better idea. I’ll take you out to a local diner. Now what do you think?” He grabbed my waist and jerked me into his hot body, pressing his erection between my thighs.
I sighed, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip until I almost bled. How could I be so sexually frustrated every time he wasn’t inside me? We’d obviously had a lot of sex.
“I think you’re insane. People could spot us.”
“We’ll go somewhere outside of town. Maybe by the highway. Stop being so paranoid. Todos Santos is full of old, rich white people. They don’t venture farther than the city limits without a good reason. They’re too scared of the unwashed masses in the outside world.”
I let out a small chuckle. He was right, of course.
“We’re playing a dangerous game here, Jaime,” I warned.
“I don’t know any other way to play it.”
Another month ticked by. My relationship with Jaime became alarmingly intimate. He moved most of his stuff to my place and slept-over ninety percent of the time. I couldn’t tell him no after he’d confided in me about his mom and Coach Rowland. I didn’t know many people who’d be eager to sleep on the same bed their mom used to cheat on her husband. But while we were enjoying more sex, more phone calls, more pizza nights, and more talks about our uncertain future, more, more, more—it was becoming evident that we were starting to raise people’s eyebrows.
Vicious caught us red-handed, making out while hidden behind Jaime’s SUV at Liberty Park after a midnight walk. (We only went out together when everyone else was fast asleep). Vicious didn’t look surprised. Just offered us his usual scowl, growling about how we grossed him out and moved on, probably looking for a victim to murder that night. He kept his mouth shut.
But other people didn’t. At school, girls were getting restless. Jaime wouldn’t give them the time of day, and while he made up something about a girlfriend who lived in LA, nobody believed him. This HotHole in a steady relationship? A long distance one, too? Pfft. Yeah, right.
One day, a cheerleader named Kadence went as far as following Jaime back to my apartment and reported back to the masses that he’d rented his own place. I was just glad that she didn’t know the place was mine and that school was going to be over in few weeks.
But it was all too good to be true. The last week of school, I found that out.
It started with the innocent sound of a text message pinging in the dark, followed by an announcement.
“I’m going out,” Jaime said.
It was half past midnight, and we were both snuggled up in bed. His mom thought he had moved in with Vicious, and Spencer confirmed the lie. Shockingly, his father and stepmother did, too. This kid did rule everything around him, his parents included.
“Where to?” I breathed more of him into me, still clutching his waist. He got up, sat on the bed, and fired off a text message, avoiding eye contact.
“Don’t.” His voice was rough. Clipped.
I scooted up in bed, frowning. “Jaime, what’s up?”
He groaned, pulling on a white tee over his bare chest. No matter how many times I’ve seen him naked, it always made me feel a little sad when he covered those great abs. “Nothing’s up. Last time I checked, it’s not against the law to go hang out with your friends.”
He had yet to look at me.
“Yeah.” I grabbed his arm, prompting him to look at me. “But it is against the law to do half the shit Vicious makes you guys do. So it is my business.”
“Actually”—he shook out of my touch, turning around and smiling tightly—“that’s exactly why you aren’t going to get shit from me. It’d only drag you into a pile of crap I’m not willing to pull you into. I’ll be back later.” He kissed my temple. “If you need anything, text.”
“You’ve been Defied,” I said dryly.
He ignored me, squatting down and tying his shoelaces.
“Vicious wants you to do something for him, huh?”
“Don’t worry.”
Like hell. “I’m nothing but worried,” I gritted.
Petrified would be a better word to describe my feelings in that moment. Vicious always came up with stupid shit, and the HotHoles always played his dangerous games.
