Flirt: Bad Boy Romance (10 page)

Wes maintained his silence, for better or worse. He had to think they were jerks. I had been on the other side of their criticisms before, but never like this, never to this extent. And they weren’t really giving him much of a chance to respond either, not that I thought he would. If I were in his shoes, I’d probably stay quiet too.

“If you want to be a member of this family,” Dad started.

“You already are,” Jacqueline cut in. Her lips were pursed, making lines appear at the corner. She was gripping her knife that she slowly set on the table. She was pissed. Good. I was glad someone else was siding with Wes, but she needed to say more in order to stop them.

“You need to talk to us more. Share. Make us care about you,” Dad finished.

Wes went rigid. Only a muscle jumped in his throat. Otherwise, he was completely still. I felt so badly for him. Maybe I should say something to get them off his back. It wasn’t fair, their teaming up on him. And Jacqueline was hanging her head. Wes would get no more help from her, that much was clear.

“Actually, April, you haven’t been as social lately yourself.” Dad stared at me, his eyes piercing. I always felt like he could read my thoughts when he looked at me like that, and I forced myself not to fidget. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” I said maybe too quickly. “Well, maybe I’m a little stressed about upcoming finals.” It was a lie, but at least there was a little bit of truth to it. Finals were coming up. I forced a smile. “But I just need to study a little more. I’ll do fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“April, you know how important grades are.” Dad’s frown had me uneasy.

“I know. Why do you think I’m stressed?” I hated lying to him. I actually felt pretty good about my finals. My classes this year were on the easier side. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have many with Wes.

“What about you, Wesley? Are you stressed out over finals?” Dad pressed.

Wes was staring at his plate, his head down. Silent as ever. I could tell Dad was getting upset over his lack of responses. The tips of Dad’s ears were turning red.

“We’re going to study together as soon as we’re done eating, aren’t we?” I said, hoping he’d at least nod.

He didn’t.

Not even a minute passed before Wes stood. He left his plate there—it was Peter’s turn to clear the table tonight—and he stomped away from the table, obviously upset. Who could blame him? At least no one made an issue out of him not asking to be excused first.

“Time to go study.” I smiled as much as I could. “If I can be excused.”

Dad frowned but nodded.

I followed Wes up the stairs. Once I was sure we were out of earshot, I said, “I’m sorry for—”

He opened his bedroom door and shut it immediately.

I knocked on his door. “Wes. Come on. Let’s talk. Or not. We can just study.”

I put my ear against his door. He didn’t say anything.

“I know it’s Friday night,” I said, “and studying isn’t that fun, but…”

No answer.

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” I shivered at my words. In another context, that could be a promise of good times. Very good times. Very naughty times.

Still no response. He wasn’t going to talk. Not to me. Not to my family. My family. Not his. He didn’t view us as his family.

If I were him, I probably wouldn’t want to either.

***

Two hours later found me lying in bed, reading to distract myself from all things Wes related. The story was just getting to the good part—the first time the hero and heroine fell into bed after declaring their love for each other—when I heard a door opening. Wes’s.

I just knew where he was going, and it made my stomach twist into knots.

I tried to read a few more pages, but I can’t concentrate on the words. I stood, walked over to my window, and watched Wes walk to his bike’s hiding spot.

The next thing I knew, I was rifling through my closet until I found my cutest skirt and a top to go with it. Then I curled my hair and applied makeup. Just a little more eye shadow. Another coat of mascara. Some more lipstick. There.

The girl looking back at me in the mirror? A stranger. A hottie. I didn’t even look like myself, I noted with pride.

I took a deep breath. I went this far, but did I have the guts to go all the way?

Why not?

With shaking hands, I retrieved my cell from my purse and dialed Aunt Caroline. “Hi,” I said when she answered.

“Oh, I know that tone. What do you want, April?” Her voice was warm and mischievous. She was like an older sister to me.

I giggled, but my stomach was still churning. Aunt Caro was definitely a fun aunt, a troublemaker, and I knew I could count on her to keep my little rebellion under wraps. If I had the courage to do it.

Aunt Caro wouldn’t think twice about it.

“Do you think you could give me a ride somewhere?” I asked.

“Of course!”

“Thanks!” I hung up. I couldn’t drive myself to the party because Dad would notice if my car was gone, and even though I was in his good graces, he’d never agree to let me go to a party. Well, not a party like this one was going to be, with drinking and hook ups and sex and drugs too.

Just what was I getting myself into? Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

But I wasn’t going to back out. If Wes was going, I was going too.

Twenty minutes later, I stood a few blocks down from our house, and my aunt drove up. After I climbed in, buckled, and gave her Lizzy’s address, she asked, “How’s my sister doing?”

“Mom’s doing well.” I smiled at her.

It always bothered me that she was estranged from the family, just because she did what she wanted to do, everyone else be damned. She lived by rules, just rules she created. She had tattoos, body piercings, and to Dad, she was “dead to us all.” They didn’t see that beneath her appearance, she was sweet and, yeah, maybe a little crazy. Once a year or so, we would secretly meet, and she always told me to call her when I wanted to get the fuck out.

Which was why I had called her tonight.

“So, where exactly are we going to tonight?” she asked.

With Dad, there would be a measure of suspicion with his question. It never really bothered me before. I just accepted it. He was worried about me, wanted to protect me from the dangers of the outside world. And there was danger out there. I knew it. But that didn’t mean I had to be sheltered and live in a bubble. And I wasn’t about to make tonight an every night occurrence. Just this one night. Just this one party.

“Lizzy. She’s having a party.”

“Ah. I take it you aren’t going because of this Lizzy.”

I laughed. Aunt Caro could always read me. And I had said Lizzy’s name with a little bit of contempt.

“So if you aren’t going because of her, who are you going for? A boy?” Aunt Caro glanced over with a sly smile on her face.

“Um…” Could I really tell her?

“Don’t you lie to me. I’ll know.”

“Ugh. Okay.” She wouldn’t know Wes was my step-brother. “His name is Wes.”

“Is he hot?”

“Aunt Caro!”

She laughed. “Well?”

“Yeah.” There was no denying that. “But I don’t know if he’s good for me.”

“Oh. One of those. A bad boy.”

“Exactly. He’s a rebel.” I began to feel better about my decision to show Wes not to underestimate me. That was why I was going. No other reason.

“You’ve moved on from Adam, then?” she asked.

“I…” Had I? “I think so.”

“Well, April, I just want you to be safe. Call me when you’re ready to go home, all right?” She parked a little bit away from the party.

I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Need a condom?” she asked.

My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets. “Uh…”

“I know your father won’t talk to you about safe sex because he plans on you losing your virginity on your wedding night, but I don’t know what you plan on doing tonight or any other night, and if you want to have sex, you should be smart about it, and if you are thinking about it, I have some condoms I can give you.”

There wasn’t a hint of disapproval or judgment in her voice. I loved that about her.

“Thanks, but…ah…no. I don’t need any.” My cheeks felt so hot.

She smiled. “If you’re sure. Have fun, April!” Aunt Caro waved and drove off.

I tried to shove my mortification aside. Yes, I was daydreaming about sex all the time and fingering myself, but I hadn’t really thought about actually doing it. Having sex. Fucking. Because I wasn’t in love with a guy. If I were to have sex soon, it wouldn’t be making love. It would be fucking. And did I want that?

No. I wanted sex to be meaningful.

But that still didn’t mean it had to necessarily wait until my wedding night.

I turned up the street. The closer I get to the party, the slower I walked. Once I walked inside, I started to lose my nerve. The huge house stank of booze, weed, cigs, and sex. The music was so loud it pulsed through my body. Boys were staring at me like I was a piece of meat, and I tugged self-consciously on my skirt. Did it have to be so short? Maybe I should’ve worn something else.

I stumbled my way through a crush of bodies and managed to find the bar. The guy mixing drinks kept glancing my way. Not wanting to look suspicious, I nodded and accepted a drink. Sipping it, I tried to find an area of the house that wasn’t quite so crowded.

No such thing. Every room was packed. I nodded and waved to a few acquaintances. None of my friends were here. Not too surprising. This wasn’t their kind of scene. It wasn’t my kind of scene either. This was pointless and stupid and reckless. I should just go home.

“Hey, April. Wow. You look good.”

I turned around to see Mike, a jock who I’d tutored our freshman year and hadn’t talked to me since. He wasn’t bad-looking, not by a long shot, but I preferred guys who used their brain cells.

“Thanks.” Not really grateful for the compliment, I gulped some of my drink. It tasted like chocolate and coffee, but I knew there had to be alcohol in it too. It surprised me how good it tasted, how smoothly it went down.

“Good?” Jacob, Mike’s best friend, punched him in the arm. “She looks smokin’. But you know what would make you look even better? If you lost your top.”

They laughed.

Ugh. So didn’t want to get hounded by a bunch of drunk guys who were acting like idiots.

“April.”

My heart started to race. Maybe I wasn’t completely over him yet. “Adam.”

He sat on the only available chair in the room and patted his lap. “Wanna sit?”

Really? That was too forward for me. Even if I have been crushing on him for a while. That he only really made a pass at me when there was alcohol involved didn’t make me feel good.

Maybe he was just a little shy, and the drinks were giving him courage.
Fat chance, April.