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Regardless, I knew exactly why I was home on a Friday night, playing one-on-one with Madeline. I just couldn’t admit it aloud.

“Yes. Tormenting you is that fun. It’s what I live for, actually.”

She made an annoyed sound, throwing the ball back to me with a little too much force. I caught it fast.

“I have an idea,” I said, feeling the excitement in my bones. “If you win a game of one-on-one, I promise I’ll stop hating you. I’ll even go as far as friending you at school so everyone else leaves you alone.”

Not a chance in hell she was winning.

“And if you win?” Her voice was hesitant, like a tiny mouse trying to beg for its life in front of a lion.

I looked her dead in the eye. “Then you tell your mom about what happened.”

Her head dipped, her blonde hair covering her soft features. I barely heard her when she said, “No.”

“Fine. Then tell your dad,” I countered.

My hands tightened on the ball when her head snapped up. Her soft features were drawn into sharp lines, showing just how mortified she was at the thought. Interesting. I’d like to know more about this father of hers who only showed up on occasion. I knew all about fucked-up marriages, but it seemed there was a bit of fear lying there.

“No. Pick something different. I’d rather stand up in the middle of English Prep and apologize to everyone I’ve ever been a bitch to rather than do that.”

“Hmm,” I hummed, feeling mischievous. “How about this? If I win, you have to tell me why you’re so afraid of your own father.”

I swore, every single noise outside stopped. There were no crickets chirping. No rustling of the wind. The world very well could have stopped spinning. Madeline was frozen in her spot. Her eyes were like saucers, and her glossy lips fell apart as she sucked in oxygen. She redeemed herself quickly, snapping that mouth closed and crowding her perfectly arched eyebrows together. But I saw it. I saw how shaken she was.

“Who said I was afraid of my father?”

I tipped my chin, erasing the space between us. “You really think you can hide from me, Madeline? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I’m the only person on this planet who truly knows what lies beneath all the fake beauty.” I glanced at her glossed lips and back up to her horrified expression.

“You don’t know me like you think, Eric.” Her words were laced with venom. It was cute that she thought she had an upper hand with me.

I chuckled, gripping the basketball so hard I thought it might combust. “That’s where you’re wrong, Maddie. Don’t act like you’ve forgotten each and every time we caught each other staring over the last few years. Don’t act like you didn’t notice when I was glaring at you as you sucked on my best friend’s neck, leaving those stupid fucking hickies as a reminder that you were his.” Madeline’s chest rose and stayed that way as if she couldn’t even take a breath. “Do you know that every single time you laughed, it sounded like nails dragging against a chalkboard to my ears? Because guess what?” I took a step closer to her, the basketball the only thing separating our bodies. “I’ll never forget the way your real laugh sounds. When was the last time you truly laughed?”

This got way too deep, way too fast. Why was it always like this between us? Things could never be left unsaid; shit couldn’t be left untouched. I wanted to know more about her. I wanted to help her get back to that girl I once looked forward to seeing every single morning.

Madeline finally spoke, staring directly into my eyes without an ounce of her earlier anger. “I don’t want to tell my mom, and I can’t tell my father. Under no circumstances can he find out.”

I lifted my head in question, but instead of asking any more—because it was completely redundant at this point—I took a step back and held the ball out to her. “Then I guess you better win, huh?”

It took her a moment, but she snatched the ball away quickly and went to our original starting spot. She shot me a glare as she started dribbling the ball, her small hand slapping the leather.

I had to turn around so she wouldn’t see me smiling like a fucking fool.

Things were definitely about to get interesting.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Madeline

There he was with his glorious, yet annoying smirk slanted in my direction. Eric stood with his hands on his hips, his sturdy chest expanding quickly even with his top-notch endurance, the moon and stars both gleaming behind his body, outlining him in the way my heart wanted to see in real life, instead of in this weird, fantasy-like bubble we were currently in.

He was glowing, happiness evident on his flushed cheeks. A bead of sweat was dripping down over the edge of his straight jaw, falling to the concrete below.

I was buzzing with memories that I’d pretended never existed. The sound of a basketball slapping on the concrete driveway, the smell of the cool night sky, so fresh and invigorating, the familiar look in Eric’s eye when he’d snatch the ball away from me and make a one-pointer. It was almost too much for me to handle.

If there was one thing I was good at, it was turning off my feelings. I was good at making people hate me.

But I didn’t want him to hate me anymore.


Tags: S.J. Sylvis English Prep Romance