Tell Me Pretty Lies(34)
He’s old money and has that air of superiority thing down pat. He clearly hasn’t forgotten our last encounter at the funeral, if the way he was looking at me is anything to go on. It was as if he was trying to see inside my soul and figure out my motive.
Thayer walks ahead of me, heading for his matte black Challenger Hellcat. Even his vehicle manages to look sinister. I ignore the way my stomach flips at the idea of being inside it again. He unlocks the door, and I slip into the smooth leather seat, pulling my seatbelt over my chest.
“Where’s your car?” Thayer asks, looking straight ahead at the dark driveway. He pushes the ignition button, and the engine roars to life, the seat vibrating beneath me. A thrill shoots up my spine remembering how it felt to fly down the back roads at night with Thayer’s hand cupping my thigh.
“Shayne. Your car. Where is it?” Thayer repeats.
I scoff. “Like you don’t know.”
His nostrils flare, clearly losing patience as he looks over at me.
“Okay, fine. You didn’t do it,” I concede, crossing my arms and sitting back in my seat. “It’s in the student parking lot. Came out after my game and found it like that.” But if he didn’t do it, then who did? Taylor wouldn’t have had the time. She was with me for the better part of the day, anyway. Unease creeps in, and I find myself wishing it had been Thayer. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.
We spend the remainder of the short drive home in silence as “What It Is to Burn” plays softly. So many things run through my mind, and I want to take advantage of this rare display of human decency by asking him everything he’s avoided telling me. Why did he go cold on me that night in the barn? What happened after I left? Why doesn’t he seem to ever go to school? But my pride won’t let me ask any of those things.
“Your mom gone?” he asks, and I can hear the judgment in his tone. He dips his head to look out of the windshield at my house. No lights. No cars. No movement.
“Out of town for work,” I say shortly.
“She do that often?”
I snort out a laugh. “You mean work? Yeah. She doesn’t have the luxury of staying home.” My tone is snotty and defensive, but I’ve seen how people in this town have treated her. I’ve heard the whispers. But for it to come from Thayer, when his dad is the one who left her high and dry, it’s a low blow.
“Thanks for the ride.” I push the door open, and by the time I get out and close it behind me, Thayer’s out of the car, rounding the hood of his Challenger.
“Is there something you’re trying to say?” he asks, coming to a stop in front of his lit headlights.
“Not all of us were born with a silver spoon in our mouth.”
He chuckles darkly, closing the distance between us. I take a step back, the backs of my thighs hitting the front bumper. “Is that what this is about?” he asks, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind my ear, and I fight the shiver that threatens to roll through me. It’s not fair for his touch to be so sweet when his words cut like a knife. It’s not fair that he still has this effect on me. He widens his stance, making our height difference less apparent. “Because you didn’t seem to care about that when you were begging me to fuck you.”
My breath catches and I shove his shoulder, but he barely budges. He looks down at his shoulder with a smirk, as if he barely felt it.
“Tell me why,” I demand. “Why do you hate me so much?” I finally spit out the question that’s plagued my thoughts for almost an entire year.
I see the muscle beneath his jaw twitch, his nostrils flaring, and I know I’ve struck a nerve. “Because I have to.”
“Then why do you keep coming back?” The hushed words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.
“Because I have to.” His thumb swipes over the pulse that jumps in my neck at his admission. Maybe I’m not the only one who can’t seem to sever this connection. Maybe it’s killing him as much as it’s killing me.
Slowly, he angles his face toward mine, his lips grazing my cheek on their way to my mouth. My eyes fall shut, heart lodged in my throat as I wait for him to make his move. I push up onto my toes the slightest bit, and that’s all it takes. His hand fists my hair and his tongue licks the seal of my lips, seeking entrance. I let him in, feeling his tongue slide against mine, and a moan slips free. He’s kissing me. After all this time, he’s kissing me, and I almost forgot how it felt. My hands find his hoodie, clenching the material in my fists to stay upright.
Thayer’s hands wrap around my waist and he jerks me onto the hood, not breaking the kiss. He plants himself between my thighs, and I lie back onto the cool metal, yanking on the front of his sweatshirt to bring him with me. Planting my feet flat on the hood and bending my knees, I flick my tongue across his piercing, earning a growl from him. Then he’s sliding a hand down my stomach, stopping between my thighs. My head falls back onto the hood with a thud as his fingers rub me through my shorts. This is crazy. We shouldn’t be doing this, especially out in the open like this. But I’ve never been able to see reason where Thayer is concerned.
His lips find my neck, sucking and biting as brings me closer to the edge, but in the worst timing, visions of the girl in his room cut through the fog of lust. When he pulls away and the tips of his fingers dip into the waistband of my shorts, I grab his wrist, stopping him.