FIERCE: A High School Enemies to Lovers Romance (Rosewood High Book 4) Read online

  “You can say that again. Did you know he had the press coming?”

  “You know your dad. He’s in a lane of his own. He gets an idea in his head and he makes it happen.” Mom sounds as exhausted as I feel with Dad’s antics.

  I grunt some unintelligible noise.

  “He just wants the best for you.”

  “And what about what I want?”

  Sadness washes over her. She’s well aware that I don’t want to be forced into the NFL, but she’s about as successful at talking Dad out of it as I am.

  “He thinks you’ve got what it takes.”

  “Maybe I have. That doesn’t mean I need to want it though.”

  “I know. Would you like some breakfast?”

  “Yes, please.”

  I sit as she gets up and pulls the refrigerator open. “Grilled cheese?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “So I was at yoga with Honey this morning,” she says, mentioning Chelsea’s mom.

  “Oh yeah,” I mutter.

  “Did you know that Chelsea is back? Honey said they’ve moved her into the pool house to give her some breathing space.”

  “Yeah, she was here last night,” I say, ignoring her comment about her new living arrangements but tucking the information away for later.

  “Was she? I didn’t see her.”

  “She didn’t stay long. She’s not exactly everyone’s favorite person right now.”

  “Understandable. Honey said she’s in a better place and ready to get back to reality.”

  “I don’t think it’s going to be that easy.”

  Mom sighs. “I told her that I’d ask you to keep an eye out for her at school next week.”

  “Mom,” I complain. “Chelsea won’t want me being her bodyguard.”

  “I’m not asking you to attach yourself to her hip. Just keep an eye out.”

  “And what if I don’t want to? What if I think she deserves all that’s coming to her?”

  “Shane, don’t be like that.”

  “She drugged Amalie and Mason, Mom. She hurt Camila.” I don’t go in to any more about what happened with Camila, she really doesn’t need to know the details of what Noah’s been up to.

  “She made a mistake or two. No one’s perfect, son. Sometimes people just need a little forgiveness to be able to turn a corner and make a fresh start.”

  “And what if I can’t forgive her?”

  “Then I guess that’s up to you. I just hoped you might be a little more mature about it.”

  “Not forgiving her after she hurt people I care about doesn’t make me immature.”

  “Okay, maybe that was the wrong word. Just… just give her a break. She hasn’t always had it easy, and I think she deserves a second chance.”

  Mom places my breakfast down in front of me before she turns and leaves the room.

  “She’s had about a million after all the drama she’s caused over the years,” I mutter to myself.

  I drop my plate into the dishwasher before leaving the house in favor of spending the day at Wyatt’s on his Xbox. It sounds much more appealing than spending the day at home with either Dad going on about what college team will give me the best shot at the NFL or Mom trying to convince me to give Chelsea the benefit of the doubt.

  Thankfully, as usual, Wyatt keeps the conversation away from anything to do with football or last night. As much as I might want to continue celebrating our epic win, I’m also relieved to have a break from it all.

  At some point in the early evening, Noah turns up to join us. Sadly, he has other opinions on dissecting last night.

  “I can’t believe Chelsea dared to show her face. Tash said the squad was less than pleased to see her. She said Shelly was vicious.”

  I recall the tears that filled her eyes as I gave her a few of my own truths last night and guilt hits me. I knew she hadn’t had the best return. The girls’ frustration at her sudden reappearance was palpable, but I didn’t really put much thought into how they might have spoken to her.

  “What did she expect?” Wyatt asks, shocking the hell out of me. He usually steers clear of having any opinions where the cheer squad or the football team are concerned.

  “To be welcomed back into their loving arms and be reinstated as captain, I think.”

  We hang out for a while longer, but now they’ve mentioned her name, I can’t get her shocked face from this morning when I accidentally pushed her to the sand out of my head.

  She looked like a scared little mouse that I was about to crush with my foot.

  “I need to head out. Thanks for the pizza,” I say to Wyatt, nodding at the boxes littering the coffee table of his den that we ordered earlier.

  “No worries. See you tomorrow.”

  I grab my hoodie from the back of Wyatt’s couch and make my way out of his house.

  If I were to cut through the alley behind Wyatt’s house, it only takes me ten minutes to walk home. But instead of turning right, I turn left up the street. I know why, even if I don’t want to accept it. This way leads me right to the house I shouldn’t be going anywhere near. Only, it’s not the house that interests me. It’s the pool house.

  7

  Chelsea

  I spend the afternoon and evening with my parents. My intention was to lock myself away and pretend anything that happened yesterday was just a dream… fucking nightmare more like.

  They both try to dig into my time away, but other than the generic ‘it was good and exactly what I needed’ that they want to hear, I don’t go into any more detail.

  That place is depressing enough, the last thing I want to do is talk about it.

  I’d like to think it’s the closest I’m ever going to get to jail, but seeing as I’ve already done some seriously questionable things in the past few months, I’m not all that confident.

  It’s regimented with its routines. I understand why, the teenagers inside are fucking up at every possible turn and need some serious boundaries put in place, but fuck, it’s hard work.

  Wake up at seven-thirty, chores, school, therapy sessions, more chores, bed. Every fucking day.

  The girl I was roomed with was the best part about that place. The stories she told me about her past made mine look like child’s play, but she got me like no one I’ve ever met before. I’m not sure how I was lucky enough to be roomed with her, but I’m so fucking grateful. She made my few weeks bearable.

  Those routines soon became second nature and unbelievably I miss them even after being home for barely twenty-four hours. Suddenly being free to fuck up my life all over again is a pressure I really don’t need.

  I have no idea how I’m supposed to go from that kind of life and back to school in only a few hours.

  My head spins at the possibility of trying to reenter my life once again. If last night was anything to go by, then it’s not going to be smooth sailing.

  With my belly full of Mom’s cooking, I lay out on my couch watching old episodes of the Kardashians, they make me feel a little better about my life as I take in all their drama.

  At some point, I find my eyes shutting and despite the fact my bed is only feet away, I cave to my exhaustion and allow myself the sleep I need.

  I have no idea how long I’m out for but when I wake, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.

  It’s crazy. The only people who know that I’m in here are Mom and Dad and I’d like to think they’re not here watching me sleep. I know they’re protective, but shit, that would be just creepy.

  Cracking my eye open, I expect to find the place empty and prepare for feeling ridiculous, but that’s not what happens.

  A scream falls from my lips when I find a figure sitting on my coffee table in the dark.

  Sitting up so fast my head spins, my eyes focus and I’m able to make out my nocturnal visitor’s features despite the dark hoodie he’s hiding behind.

  “What the hell are you doing? Trying to scare me to death?”

  He shrugs. “We
’ve got unfinished business.”

  Resting his elbows on his knees, he leans forward slightly. His emerald eyes catch the small amount of light that’s streaming in from the moon outside and I gasp at the darkness within them.

  I have no idea if he’s angry or turned on right now. And it’s just another of those times where I wish I’d paid more attention to him in the past. I should be able to read him better than this by now.

  “H-have we?” I stutter, pushing the blanket from my legs and sitting forward.

  If he thinks I’m going to back down, then he’s got another thing coming. I’m not some weak girl that he can put in her place. I thought he’d know better than that.

  Maybe he does.

  Pushing from the couch, I turn my back on him and walk to my kitchen for a drink.

  A low growl rumbles from behind me. It confuses me for a second, that is until the short hemline of my Bear’s jersey catches my eye.

  “You like my shirt, Shane?” I ask, knowing exactly what he’s looking at right now. A smile twitches my lips that he cares enough that he’s unable to keep his feelings about it locked down.

  “Take it off,” he demands.

  Bending over slightly, I pull a bottle from the refrigerator and twist the top, making a show of drinking some down.

  “Why? You want your number on my back?” I ask innocently as I place the bottle on the counter.

  When I spin around, I find him standing halfway between where I am and the coffee table where I left him.

  “You don’t deserve my number. You don’t even deserve to be wearing that shirt after the shit you pulled.”

  I shrug once again. I can’t argue with his words. I know what I did and I won’t hide from the mistakes I made.

  “So because of my questionable judgment, you think I should forget the team I’ve supported for years like I don’t care?”

  His eyes burn down my body, but linger for a little longer than necessary on my bare legs. The hem of the jersey kisses the top of my thighs so there’s not much of my skin that’s not on show below my waist right now. I may have chosen a different shirt had I known I was going to have company.

  Although, when his dark, hungry eyes come back to mine, I wonder if it’s actually had a pretty desirable effect.

  “What are you going to do, Shane? Rip it from my body?”

  One side of his lip curls up in a sinister smirk as he takes a step toward me.

  “I’m not going to make you do anything, Chelsea. We both know you get yourself in enough trouble without any encouragement.”

  “Things are different now,” I argue, thinking of the hours of counseling sessions I’ve had over the past few weeks.

  “Is that right? So you’re not willing to do anything to reclaim your place at school?”

  He tilts his head to the side, usually I’d describe it as cute but with the intense look on his face that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen before, it’s far from cute. If anything, it’s… hot.

  Fuck.

  Heat races through my body as memories of how his hands felt on my body slam into me.

  “N-no,” I stutter, trying to remember what it was he just said to me as he takes another step forward. His scent fills my nose and does nothing to tamp down my desire.

  I’ve always wanted the bad boys, the assholes. It’s a weakness I’ve never been able to rid myself of. I always dismissed Shane because he was a good guy. But this Shane standing before me right now is anything but a good guy. He warned me on the beach earlier that he was after revenge. Have I stirred something inside him that I never should have been close enough to in the first place?

  I should regret that night.

  I was desperate. Lonely. Lost. But he gave me something that I’d never experienced before and fuck if I don’t want to find out if it was a one-off thing or if it really exists.

  “No?” he asks.

  “No. If I get my place back, my squad back, it’s because I deserve it, because I’ve earned it.”

  “Pfft. Little chance of that happening.”

  “So be it.”

  “You’re lucky, you know.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Because you could be dealing with a lot worse than me right now.”

  A shudder runs down my spine as images from my past flash through my eyes. I’ve dealt with worse.

  “You don’t scare me, Shane.”

  “I wasn’t expecting to. Now,” he says, closing the final bit of space between us.

  My breathing increases with his proximity and when his eyes drop to my heaving chest, I know he doesn’t miss it.

  “Take. It. Off.”

  “Fuck you.” I laugh, although the serious look in his eyes makes me think this is anything but a joke.

  “Been there, done that, Chelsea. Or did your time with me just blur into all the time you’ve spent with the rest of the team with your legs open?”

  “No,” I argue, my fingers gripping the hem of my jersey tightly.

  His eyebrow quirks. “Tell me, what number was I? How many team members came before me?”

  I shake my head, refusing to answer that question.

  “Or was that night just about you getting a full house? Was I the last one? One more ride so you could score a home run.”

  “No,” I cry. He’s so far from the truth, but I don’t want to confess all my secrets.

  Turning away from his angry stare, I look toward the house, but all I see is our reflection in the glass doors.

  “I’m waiting, Chelsea. I’ve been waiting a long time.”

  “You wanted a repeat, you should have just said.”

  “No, that’s not what I was waiting for.” Something flashes in his eyes and I wonder how true that statement really is. “I’ve been waiting to hear what you’ve got to say for yourself. To hear your excuses. To understand why you happily walked around while allowing people to think that I was capable of the things you did.”

  “I’ve said I’m so—”

  “I don’t want your fucking apologies. Your words mean nothing. As you’re aware, actions speak much, much louder.”

  I swallow nervously, but still heat fills my veins.

  His eyes roam my body once more. “Come on, Chels. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before. Hell, our entire class has seen your naked body more times than we can count. You never used to be shy about showing anyone who’d look what you’re rocking.”

  Fed up with his taunting, and knowing that he’s right, I pull my jersey over my head and throw it at him.

  “Better? You got what you wanted now? Remove my armor and hope that it makes me weak? Well, let me tell you something, Shane.” I push from the wall with my head held high. He’s right after all, I’ve spent way too much time at parties naked and trying to tempt guys to like me. I shouldn’t care that I’m standing here in just a small pair of panties. But unlike when I’ve had half the class looking at me, standing here before Shane right now, I feel bare and it’s not just because of my lack of clothes.

  My breasts press against his chest and he gasps. “You might think you’re in charge here. You can spit your vile words, tell me what a whore I am, make assumptions about the things I’ve done, but we both know that right now, I’m the one who holds all the power.”

  I drop my hand to his crotch and just like I suspected, he’s hard as fuck.

  8

  Shane

  “Fuck,” I groan as she wraps her fingers around my length.

  It was probably no secret what her naked body was doing to me, I’m wearing sweats for fuck’s sake. All she had to do was glance down to see the imprint of my cock against the fabric.

  “Tables have turned now, huh, Shane?”

  My brain misfires as she presses the length of her body against me, her hand trapped between us as she continues to hold me.

  Suddenly my revenge mission seems so far from my mind with the scent of her floral perfume filling my nose and the heat of her skin against my body
.

  “I warned you, I’m not the kind of girl who’s going to play your games, Dunn. I set the rules around here.”

  She strokes me over the fabric and my head spins.

  “That night, you didn’t stand a chance. I got exactly what I needed. You were like putty in my hands, very much like right now.”

  Finding some strength from somewhere, I lift my hand and manage to wrap my fingers around her wrist, stopping her movement before I come in my pants like a fucking kid.

  I tell myself it’s not her, that it’s just the touch I haven’t had since she was in my room that night. The second she left me with nothing but memories, I craved more, but I knew I wasn’t going to get it. She played me, I knew that. Just like she’s trying to now. She didn’t want me. She just wanted someone, a distraction while her friend was busy elsewhere.

  “What are you doing, Chelsea?” My voice is rough and deep, and it gives away what I really want.

  Fuck.

  I shouldn’t even be here right now, let alone even considering allowing her to do this.

  I probably well deserve all she can give me after what she did. I told her I was coming after revenge, but I wasn’t really expecting this. I didn’t think she’d turn the tables like this.

  How naïve I was.

  I wanted to tell her how it felt being on the other end of her betrayal. To have the entire school look at me like I was the fucking Devil while she swanned around ruling the school like she always has.

  “Trying to make you feel good. Isn’t it obvious? I’m trying to make up for everything, just like you suggested on the beach this morning.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to keep my focus, but it’s really fucking hard with her fingers gripping me so tightly.

  “I wouldn’t have—” My words are cut off by her bitter laugh.

  “Oh really? So you would have said no if I had pushed my hand inside your shorts like I did Zayn’s?”

  The thought of her touching him has jealousy eating at me. It’s ridiculous, she was only doing it to make a point but still, I hated the idea that he might have actually gone through with it.