Until You (Fall Away, #1.5)(37)

But while Madoc was curious, he was also game. Anytime I wanted help spreading a rumor or messing with Tate over the years, he’d always stepped up. At my request and of his own volition.

The party a year ago where he threw her keys into the pool, and she’d broken his nose.

All his idea.

My first party this year when she screamed, “Cops?” Did I tell him to put his hands on her?

I narrowed my eyes on him. “I think you go above and beyond. You mess with her without me telling you, so why do you care?”

He smiled and let out a nervous laugh, brushing me off. “This isn’t about me. I never wanted to make an enemy of that girl. She came outside last night like she was ready to back us up. She’s hot, athletic, tough, and she can handle a gun. What’s not to like?”

Every muscle in my shoulders and arms flexed. I didn’t like that Madoc was veering away from how I wanted people to see her, and I f*cking hated that he drooled over her.

I came back down the stairs, my boots pounding on the tile almost as hard as the blood pumping in my veins, and bore down at my best friend.

“Stay away from her.”

He held up his hands and smiled like he was trying to calm me down. “Hey, man, no worries. She broke my nose and kicked me in the balls. I think that ship’s sailed.” He narrowed his eyes and looked confused. “But if you don’t want her, why can’t anyone else have a shot?”

Why, indeed?

The shit I’d pulled on Tate over the years could be chalked up to hate, anger, need for control.

But not letting other guys near her? That wasn’t a game.

That was about me not being okay with anyone else’s mouth or hands on her.

And I needed to let that shit go.

“I’m not standing in her way anymore,” I said calmly. “If she wants to date and screw every guy in school, she can have a ball. I’m done.”

“Well good,” Madoc said, stretching his fat mouth into a wide grin. “Because word is she went out with Ben Jamison last night.”

The walls closed in. Madoc got smaller and smaller.

Ben and Tate? No, no, no…

My long-sleeved black thermal was suffocating me, and for the first time since last fall I actually felt inclined to rip off the goddamn sleeves again just to breathe.

“That’s fine,” I clipped out, barely unscrewing my jaws to speak. “I couldn’t care less. They can all have her.”

But I never, for a single second, meant it.





Tate and K.C. got into it at lunch again. I could see them eating lunch at the picnic tables outside, and both were talking intensely, Tate looking away, shaking her head, and K.C. looking apologetic.

While I told myself that it would be worth it when it was done, I still felt like shit. K.C. wasn’t telling Tate about using me to get back at her boyfriend. If she did, they probably wouldn’t be fighting. Not that Tate would be okay with it, but she probably wouldn’t be barely eating her lunch and scowling so much.

No, Tate thought K.C. and I were hooking up.

Telling the school she had genital warts or lice had been mean but still funny. Trying to steal her best friend was cruel. It would really hurt her.

Exactly what I wanted, I told myself.

But day after day I caught myself mesmerized by her every move. The methodical way she’d sharpen her precious pencils, the way her hair fell over her shoulder when she’d lean down to grab something from her messenger bag, or watching her body bend as she’d sit down or get up. Every bit of skin, every smile, and every time she licked her lips had a lightning storm shooting downwards from my stomach to my dick, and I almost wished she was back in France.

At least I could hate her and not want to f*ck her every second.

Madoc called it hate-f*cking. He told me once that he’d never loved anyone, but he’d had sex with someone he really hated once, and it was the best he’d ever had.

Passion, punishment, anger—it sounded like an attractive but dangerous mix.

I let out a breath and straightened my shoulders as I walked into my last class of the day—the class I shared with Tate.

“Leave.”

I heard Tate’s voice as soon as I walked in the door, and I snapped my attention to Nate Dietrich leaning on her desk, crowding her space.

“That’s your last warning,” she continued, looking angry and embarrassed at the same time.

“Jared’s right,” Nate grumbled and stood back upright. “You’re not worth it.”

And I was on his f*cking ass. “Sit down, Nate.”

He spun around, eyebrows raised and looking surprised as we stood in between the rows of desks that were quickly filling up with students.

“Hey, man, no offense.” He held up his hands. “If you’re not done with her…”

My arms tensed with the need to haul this guy out of here by his balls.

If I’m not done with her?

And just then, I felt like crawling inside of myself to hide.

My throat tightened.

What the hell?

I wanted her to hurt. I didn’t want her to hurt.

I hated her. I loved her.

I wanted to violate her body in a hundred different ways. I wanted to keep her safe.

There was no limit to how f*cking confused I was right now, but one thing was for certain.