Page 3 of Because of You


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“You have plans tonight?” she asked and smiled, taking a few steps toward me. I felt my body tighten at her close proximity, her sweet scent not being masked by the chlorine from the swimming pool.

“Aside from getting into mayhem or doing something illegal?” I gave her a lopsided grin and she chuckled softly.

“Yeah, aside from those things.” We stood there for a moment, not speaking, both of us smiling, the air lightening. She made me feel better, made the darkness that I had growing inside of me break down enough that her light could come through. As lame and clichéd as it sounded, that was the goddamn truth.

“Rico Barre is throwing a party tonight and although I’m sure you heard about it, I wanted to know if you’d like to go with me, you know, keep me company, be my wingman?”

I wanted so much to tell her that I secretly loved her, that I was dragging my feet on leaving this fucking town because of her. But she was so fucking smart, had a future ahead of herself. I, on the other hand, would probably be working at some garage as a grease monkey for the foreseeable future, and maybe doing some less than favorable things on the side to make ends meet.

“A party might be the last place I need to go.” I chuckled humorlessly. Parties and I didn’t exactly get along, mainly because there was always some drunken asshole who grew balls of steel with a little liquid courage. I usually found myself caught up in defending someone that shouldn’t have needed defending. But I wouldn’t sit back and let some prick start shit with someone they deemed lesser than them, or assaulting a woman because they thought she wanted it.

No, I wasn’t that kind of guy, and I didn’t give a shit if they labeled me a bad boy troublemaker because I’d beat anyone’s ass who rubbed me the wrong way. Which was normally what happened and why I was in this particular situation.

And as I stared at Catherine, I thought about her at that party, some drunken bastard rubbing up on her, claiming she wanted something she didn’t.

I curled my hands into tight fists at my side and exhaled slowly. Although I shouldn’t go to the party, I was going to because Catherine would be there. I’d be her shadow, keep her right by my side.

And if anyone wanted to mess with her they’d have to go through me first.

Chapter Two

Catherine

I didn’t know why I had asked Sutton to come with me to this party. I knew it was a testosterone free-for-all at these things, what with everyone drinking and partying, and with Sutton’s reputation for putting people in their place going strong. Not to mention all the shit going on with his father and their strained relationship.

Selfishly, I cared more about spending as much time with him as I could, rather than wanting to get his mind off everything else.

Because what I felt for him, that secret longing, that intense emotion, was eating me up and I knew I couldn’t keep it inside any longer.

We headed inside the house where the party was already in full swing. It was crammed with people, the music loud and vibrating the very walls. The house was out in the country, off the main road and situated on five acres. Rico’s parents, who were the owners, were currently away on a business trip. That meant a party that had all of the recently graduated upperclassman, as well as some of the sophomores and a handful of freshman in attendance.

Underage drinking wasn’t too uncommon where we lived, since it was more a ‘drive your tractor to school during spirit week’ kind of town.

We were currently in a strange limbo between high school and college, those few months where you sucked up as much social time with your friends as you could before you went off and started your adult life.

The crowd was thick, pushing into us like a wave in the ocean. I bumped into Sutton’s side, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in closer. I felt chills from that touch, his hand so big, so masculine, curled around my upper arm, no doubt his fingers able to touch for how small I was in comparison. I felt very feminine compared to him. At six-foot-three he towered over many of the guys we went to school with, and if that didn’t make all the girls melt I didn’t know what would.

I tipped my head back and looked up at Sutton, his short dark hair slightly disheveled, as if he’d run his fingers through it. He looked so masculine, older than his eighteen years. With his tall stature and muscular build, he was all man.

And I sure as hell felt feminine when I was with him.

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