Page 40

CHAPTER 40

KING

MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER

In the staff room, I pulled sea animal decorations from one of the cubbies, with a weird, crackling feeling in my chest, like pop rocks. Talking about my scars was always an awkward conversation. It never felt good.

The door pushed open.

Before she even said anything, I knew it was Willow. The smell of her body butter made me pause and I stared straight ahead. Because talking to her out there was a lot different than talking to her in here .

"Hi."

I turned to glance at her. She had a dress for the night, one of those summer outfits she only wore for the shows, and her hair was braided down which just meant more emphasis on her face.

She swallowed. "I—I’m sorry."

My eyebrows furrowed. I didn’t understand.

"I didn’t mean to push."

"Push what?" My frown deepened. "What are you talking about?"

"About the car crash and the—um—the effects from the car crash?—"

"You can say scars. You can’t really call them anything else."

"But I shouldn’t have pushed you." She winced. "I’m sorry."

For long seconds, I stared at her before my lips twitched. Willow was sorry for pushing me? Me? Who had over a hundred pounds on her? I tried to hold back the grin, but it made its appearance anyway. And I couldn’t keep back the laugh.

Willow froze.

"Holy shit." I laughed again, running a hand through my hair. "Look at you."

" Look at me?"

"I’m not trying to be a dick but you’re not a James Bond villain. You can’t force me to talk if I don’t want to. I’m a simple guy. If I don’t want to say something, I won’t say it."

"I don’t want to make you uncomfortable."

I snorted. "That’s not going to happen."

"I’m not just apologizing for me though. I’m really sorry."

"For what?"

"You were a kid. You were supposed to be going out with friends and prom and doing homework, not…all of that."

I didn’t understand what the issue was. Other kids had prom and homework, sure, but that wasn’t the kind of shit I was dealing with and Willow had no influence over that. I gazed at her for a long moment, trying to piece it together.

"We grew up different," I finally said. "There were plenty of kids like me. I’m not special."

"I know we don’t…owe each other anything?—"

"That’s not a fair way to put it."

"I don’t want you to think I’m digging to dig?—"

"I don’t think that."

"I haven’t been in this position before?—"

"Willow. You don’t have to worry about any of that shit. I honestly don’t care."

"Oh." She hoisted herself up on the counter and stared down at her hands. "Did you…blackout during it?"

I shook my head.

"Not at all?"

I shook my head again.

"You…remember it?"

I tried to piece together exactly what I could say without scaring her. "It felt like an amusement park ride when it drops. We had to take out the airbags for the stunt and the harness cut so deep, I had strap marks for a couple of years. I had a shit ton of glass in me."

"That’s horrible," she mumbled.

Willow could ask questions, but she couldn’t feel sorry for me. That wasn’t the reality of the situation.

"Courts move slow with evictions but that doesn’t matter if the apartments have security." I shrugged. "The schools say they help, they don’t. Not where I was at. Just a lot of phone calls that lead nowhere. I did what I had to do to make quick cash and I didn’t have a lot of options that didn’t fuck with football. The only real ticket out."

"You shouldn’t have had to do it."

"My family doesn’t need to worry about money anymore. It’s fine."

"I’m sorry, King. That’s it."

It was quiet again while Willow pushed off the counter. I didn’t understand. None of this made sense and it was difficult to put together why she was even asking in the first place.

I leaned forward. "Willow?"

"Yes?"

"Is this another mind game?"

"What?"

"Is this how you’re trying to have sex?"

Her mouth fell open. I couldn’t read her at all. I knew how her body was reacting but the stunned expression on her face threw me off.

"What? No. "

"No?"

"I’m not a thirty-year-old dude at a high school party, preying on freshmen girls—what the hell, King?"

"You’re not trying to fuck right now?"

" No! "

My frown deepened. "Then why did you come in here?"

"Are you seriously asking me?"

I nodded.

"Because I care about you, you dumb asshole! This isn’t some nefarious plot, I know it’s not going to work, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m sorry you had to go through that and I care about you!"

Fuck, is this the mind game too?

"Willow," I said, watching her.

" What? "

"You’re wet."

Her eyes widened and she stared at me, shocked. But she couldn’t argue. I knew her body.

"Your nipples are hard," I finished.

"I—I’m not getting off to your story—" she blurted out and crossed her arms over her chest. Like that could’ve changed anything. "I—no?—"

I had no idea if Willow was saying what she actually meant or if she was only saying what I wanted to hear. Because everything felt specifically tailored for me. The concern for my well being, asking personal questions, how soft her voice was, the smell of her body butter, tugging me like a fish on a hook, all of it was a Willow-specific experience that had me so hard, it was unbelievable.

Willow stumbled over her words and I took a step closer.

"Why did you come in here?"

"Not to mess around." She tightened her stance. "I don’t think you realize how fucked up that story is. King, you were a kid and you could’ve died. It’s not weird that I want to—wanted to—comfort—" She stopped herself. "To make you feel better."

"Make me feel better?" I repeated, taking three long steps until I stood next to her.

"King—"

"Stop avoiding me."

"That’s—that’s part of the clean break."

"What happened to fucking me over?"

"I talked to Elijah." She ignored me when I scoffed. "I didn’t realize the team dynamics. I don’t want you to get in trouble with Lawson. I don't want to hurt you. Not like this. Not really."

"You have to be doing this on purpose."

"Doing what?"

I picked up her hand and pressed it against my cock, taut in my shorts. Her breath hitched in her throat but I didn’t release her. I moved her hand, stroking my cock, showing her how stiff I was talking to her. "This. What you’re doing right now. Saying you care about me gets me off more than any outfit you could wear."

"There’s—there’s people outside?—"

"You’re going to have to be quiet then."

"King—"

"Your lip gloss looks so…"

"This isn’t a good idea?—"

"I can’t stop looking at it."

"We can’t, " she whispered.

"I really don’t give a fuck," I muttered and caught her lips for a kiss.