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“Oh.” Dad’s face brightens. “Was it in celebration of your birthday?”
“No, Dad,” I say softly. “It was just a Friday night party, you know? But I had fun.”
“You did?” He sounds hopeful. I thought he’d be mad I was out, but he’s not. He wishes I was more social and had friends so this aligns with what he wants. “I’m happy to hear that, sweetheart. You only deserve the best on your birthday.”
His words don’t match his previous years’ thoughts and I wonder if we’re actually making progress for once. Mourning my mother—his wife, the love of his life—has consumed us every year at this time for the last six years.
While I had a moment in the car with Arch, it feels like telling him the story of that day was almost like a purge. The sadness that always lingered in my chest and made me push everyone away isn’t as strong.
“I had fun, but I’m tired.” I push away from the door, pausing at the mouth of the hallway. “Did you have a nice night with Kathy?”
“I did.” His expression grows distant, a tiny smile curving his lips, and I wonder if he’s thinking of her. I can’t imagine him feeling the same way about Kathy as I do about Arch. That’s just…no.
Impossible.
“I’m glad you had a good time with her,” I say as I head for my bedroom. “Good night, Daddy.”
“Night, sweetie.”
I lock myself away in the bathroom seconds later, breathing a sigh of relief as I slump against the door. I don’t like lying to my father, but I was too afraid of how he might react if he found out I was actually with Arch. He doesn’t like him. At least that one time we talked about him, I got that sense.
And I like Arch. A lot.
Probably more than I should.
Staring at my reflection, I wash my hands, staring at myself hard. Looking for a difference in my eyes, my face, my anything.
But again, there’s no difference. I’m just me. After everything I did earlier tonight—my cheeks literally turn pink at the memory, I am witnessing it happen in the mirror—with Arch, I figured I would maybe look like a new person. Older. More mature.
My hair is down. That’s really the only difference but as I dry off my hands, I realize something.
Ifeeldifferent. There’s more to my world now than just me and Dad and the roses and school. There’s Arch. Arch and me.
Me and Arch.
My heart thumps harder than usual and I rest my hand over my chest, inhaling deeply. It’s scary, thinking of us together. Publicly. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.
Is he?
THIRTY
ARCH
The secret is gettingto me. Our secret. Mine and Daisy’s.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s something exciting about sneaking around, hoping we don’t get caught. The knowledge that we might giving both of us an indescribable thrill, one that keeps me coming back for more. Pushing our limits.
We’ve been seeing each other for almost a month. Nonstop. The moment I get her alone, my hands are all over her, our mouths fused. I’ve kissed this girl more than anyone I’ve ever kissed in my life and we’ve never taken it beyond getting handsy. As in her giving me hand jobs and me fingering her. Oh, and plenty of grinding on each other. That’s about it.
Daze is a good girl and I have to be patient with her, but it’s slipping. My patience. I think about mauling her. Tearing her clothes off and going down on her and fucking her. Hearing her whimper with my every thrust, her golden eyes trained on me and nothing else, her lips parting on my name as I make her come.
It’s constant, the thoughts in my head. I can’t concentrate for shit. My grades are slipping and I swear to fucking God, she’s doing better. Better than me.
“Arch, I hate to tell you this but…” My guidance counselor Mrs. Peebles lifts her gaze away from her computer screen to study me. “Currently you’re number two in your class.”
There’s the confirmation I already knew.
“Daisy beat me, huh?” She is going to love this. Hell, she probably already knows. At the beginning of the school year, this would’ve pissed me off mightily.
