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My stomach somersaulted as his gaze slid slowly to my lips. “What? No,” I said, breathless.
I shook my head and closed my eyes to clear the mass of nerves before opening them again. It was too hard to focus when he looked at me like that. Like he was a barren desert, and I was the water. “I’m grounded for two weeks,” I blurted out.
“Two weeks?” Thorne frowned and leaned back an inch, giving me a little more room to breathe. “That’ll never work. I have an event next week, and I need you as my date. We need to make our relationship official, and it’ll never seem legit if I go alone. Tell them you can’t.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and laughed. “I can imagine how that’ll go over. ‘Ah, no, Mom and Dad. Sorry, but I’m not grounded,’” I mocked in a high-pitched voice. “Doesn’t work with my schedule.’ Right.” I rolled my eyes.
Actually, I knew how well that would go over because I’d tried it, and I was still grounded. “They don’t even want me seeing you anymore. At all. My father pretty much forbade it.”
“Shit.” Thorne scrubbed a hand over his face. “So what now?”
“I don’t know. I’m not like you. I don’t get to run my own life yet. It’s still a dictatorship at my house. Only the dictators go by Mom and Dad. It’s not like I can sneak behind their back since the whole point of this is to show the world that we’re together.” I shook my head and averted my gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry. I thought this would work, but I guess it won’t. We had a deal, and so I understand that you’ll be pulling your legal team off—”
“Hey . . .” Thorne placed his fingers under my chin and tipped my head back until my gaze met his. “Are you really going to give up that easy? Have you learned nothing from that display in there?”
“It was a game.”
“It wasn’t just a game. That was about a lot more than a game, was it not?” He pointed toward the gym, and my eyes followed.
He was right. The dodgeball game was about sending a message that the underdog could come out on top. That Gabby, Mikey, JT, Luca, and Xia were not “royalty” like they wanted to believe. Just because their counterparts were a little—okay, a lot—nerdy didn’t make them less than. We still had value. We could win. It was about showing each of those kids that even if the odds stacked against you, if you fought hard enough and smart enough, you could rise to the occasion.
But still . . . This was not a game of strategy we were talking about here. This was my life. My parents.
When I said nothing, his eyes hardened on my face, and he leaned forward, bracing his hands against the wall. Muscled biceps caged me in as the scent of his skin—sweat, sunshine, and sandalwood sunk into my bones, spiking my pulse.
My throat bobbed as my eyes met his. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
And I was. In that moment, I truly was.
“I’ll figure something out.” Reaching up to my face, he brushed a thumb over my lower lip, then pushed off the wall and left me standing in his wake, heart beating like I’d just ran a race I had no chance of winning. “This isn’t over. Not yet.”
Chapter 15
SCARLETT
Isetthewoodensalad bowl on the table with a sigh. It was Thursday night, two days post-grounding. It also happened to be spaghetti night, which was my father’s favorite. Throw some carbs at him, drowned in lightly sweetened spaghetti sauce, and he was in heaven. So it was my hope that I could reapproach the topic of Thorne.
At school today, he’d acted like everything was normal, and when I questioned him about it, he’d been particularly tight-lipped. Each time, he’d simply implied that it would work out, which seemed a little optimistic considering we didn’t have a plan. Add in the fact that maintaining my end of the bargain seemed more important than ever, considering Mom and Dad hadn’t shut up about our new attorneys and how amazing they were, which only added to the weight of my stress. Because no “us” means no legal help.
The doorbell rang just as Mom placed the basket of garlic bread on the table while Dad set the dressings next to the salad plates.
“I’ll get it,” I said with a sigh as Mom went back for the pasta.
I picked my way down the hall, toward the front door and swung it open, only half paying attention. I was so preoccupied with my thoughts of Thorne and how we’d find a way around this seemingly impossible roadblock it took me a full minute to realize it was him standing in front of me, as if I conjured him.
I blinked, and the unspoken greeting stuck in my throat.
He hovered on the doorstep, looking particularly good in a black button-down shirt, a leather jacket, and dark jeans. The largest bouquet of flowers I’d ever seen was firmly clutched in his hands.
“Honey,” my mother’s voice called from the dining room, “who is it?”
My stomach clenched. With a nervous glance over my shoulder, I hurriedly stepped outside. “What are you doing here?” I hissed. “Have you got a death wish?”
“What? Can’t a boyfriend pay a visit to his girlfriend?”
“Not unless you want to wind up in a body bag.” I crossed my arms over my chest as a gust of wind nipped at my shoulders, exposed by the slouchy sweater I wore.
Thorne’s gaze slid to the bare skin, sending a flush of warmth through my limbs, so I raised my chin in a defensive posture. “Face it. This isn’t going to work, no matter how badly we both want it to.”
