Page 46 of Scarred Crown

The alarm on my phone goes off, and I break the kiss, reaching for my device on his bedside table.

“Leave it,” he mutters, his hand still in my shorts.

“I can’t. Nick’s done in five minutes. I need to go.” When I try to sit up, he reluctantly removes his hand and then throws his arm over his face.

“We need to tell him.”

“Uh, no, we don’t. That’s the opposite of what we need.” I straighten my clothes on the edge of the bed.

“I want more than one-hour time slots with you in my room with the door locked.” Alex lets out a huff of impatience. “I’m going to be the king of Bellerive. I shouldn’t have to skulk around keeping the girl I like a secret. I shouldn’t have to keep you a secret from anyone.”

I stand up and turn to him. The girl I like. Those words leaving Alex, aimed at me, are truly stunning.

My face must be flushed, and I don’t know exactly how to explain myself. No matter what, I can’t risk my friendship with Nick. I won’t. We’ve been too close for too long for me to let some make-out sessions with his brother ruin everything.

“This is a summer fling, right?” I say.

“Some fling,” Alex grumbles. “You won’t even sleep with me.”

“I told you—”

“Yes.” Alex glowers at me. “I’ve heard you several times. No need to repeat yourself. Gets a bit boring to hear the same thing over and over.”

It’s not that I haven’t slept with someone before. The day after my sixteenth birthday I decided, like Nick, I was just going to get rid of my virginity. He didn’t seem to care how or to who he lost his, so why should I care? The girl he slept with didn’t even realize he was a virgin.

There was no need for sex to be something special or sacred for me either. Except, in my haste to get it over with, I didn’t choose the guy very wisely. The experience was awkward, weird, and kinda painful. I wanted to do it, but I didn’t expect sex to be quite so… blah.

So, I’ve vowed I won’t do it again until I’m sure I’m comfortable and with someone who at least means something to me. The stakes are too high for me to make the same mistake with Alex, and I’m not sure I completely trust him. His little comments around Nick set me on edge. He wants me, but I don’t understand why.

Besides, I still don’t like the way he kisses, and we’ve been kissing a lot. The rhythm and pressure are wrong. My initial theory was that we might not be compatible at other things either. Though, that hypothesis hasn’t proven true. He’s very good with his hands, his fingers, and his mouth in other places. Sometimes being with him feels good and wrong, and I’m not sure what to do with my conflicted responses. If I was with anyone else, I’d ask Nick, but that’s not an option.

He draws his knees up to his chest and dangles his arms over the top. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’m just in a pissy mood because you’re always picking Nick over me.”

“You’re not competing for me.” I cross my arms. Least of all because Nick doesn’t even know there’s a competition. “Nick is my best friend, and you’re my… summer fling.”

“Right. We fuck around for an hour in my bedroom three times a week—without actually fucking, I might add—and the rest of the time I pretend like I don’t get a hardon the minute you walk into a room.”

I gather my hair into a ponytail and use the elastic on my wrist to secure it. I crawl my way back to Alex on the bed. Even though I should go, there’s something addictive about hearing him say I have such a big effect on him. He’s been a mystery to me for years, still is in many ways. Whether or not I should, I enjoy being wanted.

“You get a hardon the minute I walk into a room?” I tease. “That must be… hard.”

“Like a rock. Want me to grab your hand and press it to my dick next time as proof?” He takes my hand and runs it over his shorts, along his erection. “This is for you. Just for you.”

I stare into his dark eyes, searching for something, but I don’t know what. He wants to have sex with me. He’s made that very clear many times. Part of me feels like a prude or a tease for holding out.

But at night, when I lie in bed, all the ways this fling can go wrong run on repeat through my head. Worst case scenario? Nick never speaks to me again. Best case scenario? Alex falls head over heels for me and asks me to marry him. The second thought makes me just as terrified as the first. I don’t want to marry Alex, and when we’re not in his bedroom wrapped around each other, I’m not even sure I want to be doing this with him. Which is ridiculous. Why wouldn’t I want to be doing this with him?

“Don’t you think it’s better if we keep us casual?” I hedge. “My mother works for your father. I’m Nick’s best friend. If things end badly, we’ll have to see each other all the time.”

“What if things don’t end at all?” He kisses my neck and slides his hand under my shirt, lifting my bra to cup my breast. His thumb grazes my nipple.

“You don’t mean that,” I say.

He tugs me forward so I’m straddling him, showing me again how much he wants me while easing himself against my core. “Can you predict the future, Jules? That’d be a handy talent for a king.”

He grinds against me, and I gasp. I circle my arms around his neck, and press my cheek to his, my breath quickening at the exquisite pleasure. He might not be much of a kisser, but he’s definitely got other talents I haven’t experienced before with a boy. I rock against him, and his grip on my hips tightens.

My phone rings, and he keeps me pressed against him, enticing me to stay with a rhythmic pressure.