Until You (Fall Away Series) (11 page)

“Thanks for the offer anyway, Madoc,” she said in a sweet sing-song voice.

Picking up her tray, she headed through the crowd, tossed away her lunch, and headed for the doors as every eye in the room followed her. Even mine.

I leaned back again, remembering how she’d cry or just leave every time Madoc or I did something. Now, it was ten year old Tate again, rocking my fucking world.

She stopped at the double doors, and I narrowed my eyes on her as she turned around, looking straight at me. Her eyes zoned in, killing the distance between us and bringing me dead in her face, so I could smell her skin.

She was everything.
She knew my game, she matched me, and she was going to be a joy to take down. Then, and only then, would I have proven that I didn’t need her or anyone else.

Mr. Sweeney, one of the deans, came through the cafeteria, wanting to know what happened, and I stepped in and explained that Madoc had fallen over a chair. Stupid lie, I know, but teachers don’t have a lot of power. If one kid claims something and others back it up, it must be true. I didn’t want Tate in trouble.

Not from anyone else but me.

Before the first afternoon class started, I met Madoc at his locker, and grabbing him by his arm, I hauled him around the corner into an empty classroom.

“Whoa!” he howled, probably surprised by my sudden appearance. “Take it easy!”

As soon as we were away from prying eyes, I twisted around and planted my fist in his gut. The skin on my knuckles stretched, but Madoc caved to the punch, and I knew his pain would be a hell of a lot worse.

Coughing and hunching over, he fell back against the wall as I hovered over him. The strange part was, I wasn’t nervous or even angry. I was a little pissed, but otherwise, I was in complete command of my actions and emotions.

He knew why he got hit, and now he knew I wasn’t bluffing about not touching Tate.

“You heard me this time, right?” I asked.

And he nodded, pinching his eyebrows together and looking nauseous as he held his stomach.

Making my way to my next class, I picked my phone out of my pocket and texted my boss that I wouldn’t be at work this afternoon. He was a friend and let me off the hook on the rare occasion I needed a surprise day off.

The job was noise and distraction. Now I had Tate, and she was keeping my head pretty occupied lately.

I passed the rest of the afternoon in a euphoric hunger for what was to come.

Madoc’s ego was severely bruised from getting hit twice in one day. We took off after school so he could nurse his wounds with a late lunch, or early dinner, at Sonic. Personally I think the chicks on roller skates cheered him up more than the food.

At about four-thirty, he drove home, and I headed back to school. Tate had cross-country practice this afternoon. I’d checked with Jess Cullen, the captain, earlier today, and Tate was supposed to be trying out for her place back on the cross-country team.

Walking up to the girl’s locker room door, I stood outside and waited. Slipping my hands into my pockets and leaning my head back against the wall, I enjoyed the calm before the storm.

God, I’d missed this.

My father crossed my mind briefly, but he almost seemed unimportant now. Like, why the hell had I given him so much of my attention in the first place?

When a girl walked out, hair wet and carrying a gym bag, I knew it was time. The ladies might still be cleaning up, but they should be done with their showers at least.

Not that they had anything I hadn’t seen before, some of them close up, but there was a fine line between a prank and getting myself arrested.

Walking through the door, I turned left and rounded the corner. There were several rows, just like the men’s locker room, so I stalked down the aisle, peering in every line of lockers and scanning for the sunshine blonde.

I heard hair driers going and talking coming from the back, so there weren’t too many girls left getting dressed.

But there were definitely some gasps and quick movements to cover themselves.

One girl jerked her shirt up to cover her bra but then lowered it again when she registered who I was. Her lips twisted up as she scanned me up and down. I did a double take, since she looked like she knew me. Like
knew me
knew me, but I couldn’t remember at the moment. The past year had been a jumble, and I’d rarely gone back for seconds with anyone. I could’ve tapped that. She was hot. I probably would have, but I wouldn’t be able to say if it was a month or a year ago.

Coming up on the next aisle, I halted, my stomach flip-flopping.

Tate was at her locker, naked except for a towel.

For a second, I thought I couldn’t have planned the timing better. And then I remembered that it couldn’t have been worse timing. My dick was like a goddamn compass pointing straight to her.

Hardening my eyes and narrowing my brow, I spoke up, ready to put her in her fucking place.

“Get out. Tatum stays,” I ordered the room.

Everyone squealed or sucked in a quick breath, and Tate’s head snapped up, eyes wide. She clutched her towel like I had the power to rip it off of her with my mind.

If only….

Everyone scurried away, and I was grateful that they cleared out without drama. Maybe they went outside or a few rows over to give us some privacy, but all I cared about was that they were gone, and Tate didn’t have a lifeline.

She was isolated.

“Are you kidding me?” she yelled, her face twisted up in beautiful anger as I approached her slowly.

“Tatum?” My body raged with heat shooting down my arms and legs. “I wanted to make sure I had your attention. Do I have it?”

She licked her lips, breathing through her teeth. Even her mouth, tensed up in frustration, looked full of fight.

“Say what you have to say. I’m naked here, and I’m about to scream. This is going too far, even for you!”

Never too far.
There was no limit to how high I could fly from feeding off of her.

She’d stopped retreating, and I briefly wondered why. But instead of stopping myself, I couldn’t help but get a little closer.

We stood there a moment, neither one of us willing to back off, and the heat rolled off of her every time her chest rose and fell.

And then I saw it.

Her eyelids fluttered slightly, her breath caught, and she wouldn’t look at me. Not out of fear but out of embarrassment. She was ashamed of something.

Oh, Jesus.

That flash of want on her face. That’s what it was.

And fuck it, I wanted that moment, too.

Roaming her body with my eyes, I took in the caramel tone of her tanned skin and couldn’t help but wonder what it would look like covered with sweat. The curve of her neck as it met her shoulder, the water droplets in the dip of her collar bone, her full tits nearly bursting out of the towel...everything got me hard.

Goddmammit.
Get a fucking grip.

I brought my gaze back up to meet hers, and forced myself to see her as the enemy she was.

I’m done giving them my attention.

“You sabotaged my party last week.” I got in her face, but she stood her ground. “And you assaulted my friend. Twice. Are you actually trying to assert some force in this school, Tatum?”

In my head, she was ‘Tate.’ Always. But I couldn’t call her that now. It was a nickname for family and friends, and we were neither.

Her eyes, the perfect blend of fire and ice, sharpened on me. “I think it’s about time, don’t you?”

“On the contrary.” I leaned my shoulder into the lockers to her side. “I’ve moved on to more interesting pastimes than punking you, believe it or not. It’s been a very peaceful year without your smug, I’m-too-good-for-everyone-else fucking face around these halls.”

And that was true. It had been peaceful. Like death kind of peaceful.

“What—are you, big, bad Jared—feeling threatened?”

What the fuck?

Now, that pissed me off.

I bounded off the lockers and caged her in between my arms.

“Don’t touch me,” she blurted out, and I bit back a grin. She wasn’t looking at me again.

I moved my head like a snake, trying to catch her eyes.

Wet strands of her hair stuck to her face, and I inhaled her slowly like she was a piece of meat, and I was starving. “If I ever lay my hands on you,” I threatened in a low voice, “you’ll want it.”

That fucking scent. It was like some kind of flower and kiwis. “Do you?” I taunted. “Want it, I mean?”

She paused, looking a little surprised, a little confused, and then a whole lot pissed. “I’m bored.” Her tone was uncertain but her eyes were resolved. “Are you going to tell me what you want or what?”

“You know? This new attitude you came back with? It surprised me. You used to be a pretty dull target. All you’d do was run away or cry. Now you’ve got some fight in you. I was prepared to leave you alone this year. But now…” I trailed off.

She smirked. “What will you do? Trip me in class? Spill O.J. on my shirt? Spread rumors about me, so I don’t get any dates? Or maybe you’ll up your game to cyberbullying. Do you really think any of it bugs me anymore? You can’t scare me.”

Baby, I’ve already got you.

At least, I thought I did. She was talking some serious shit. Sure, she’d started branching out before she went to France, but I figured it was all a part of leaving the country. She’d felt she was safe. Hell, she had been safe, I guess. Not much I could do from where I was.

But now she was back.

I braced a hand over her head, against the lockers and leaned in. “Do you think you’re strong enough to take me on?” I asked, part of me hoping she’d rise to the challenge and another part of me hoping she’d stay down.

“It’s on.” And that promise floated in the air like the words “You’ve won the lottery.”

Hell, yes.

“Tatum Brandt!”

We both jumped out of our own little world and looked to the end of the row where Coach Syndowski and about half of the cross-country team stared at us.

Oh, shit.

I almost laughed at the sheer luck.

Tate in her towel. Me hovering close. I couldn’t have planned it better, and I was a little ashamed that I didn’t predict this twist.

This wasn’t going to look good on her so-called “They’re not taking my senior year” game plan.

“Coach!” Tate gasped, grappling at her towel, and making it look like we were guilty of something other than talking.

Smooth, Tate.

But my amusement was short lived when I saw girls snapping pictures with their cell phones. My stomach hollowed out immediately.

No, no, no….goddammit.

Tate was mine, to do with what I wanted. And I did not want pictures of her in a towel texted to the whole goddamn school!

“There are other places for you two to do this.” The coach’s voice sounded like she should be wagging her finger and sending us to bed without dinner. “Mr. Trent?” She scolded me with her eyes. “Leave!”

And I buried my anger about the pictures and walked out just as I’d come in. Like I fucking owned the place.

Days later, I was experiencing more ups and downs than a damn roller coaster. Tate completely aware of my presence and cringing every time she saw me—going up! Douchebags trying to fist bump me for screwing her like she was some skanky slut that would throw down anywhere—going down.