Forever Golden: Dark High School Bully Romance (Kings of Cypress Prep Book 3) by Rachel Jonas (beach books TXT) 📕

Clearly, he hasn’t gotten the hint that I don’t feel like talking, so with the hardest eye roll ever, I stop in my tracks. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I’m late because I just fucked my boyfriend in the locker room shower, but I decide against it. Instead, all he gets is a blank stare.

“Well, wherever you were, hopefully you didn’t eat. I just got dinner in the oven. Homemade chicken pot pie, dinner rolls.”

There is such a thing as trying too hard, and he’s definitely tapped into that vein.

“No thanks,” I force out, turning again to head toward my room. Phase two of the plan involves me being spotted with Ricky again, so he’ll be here soon.

“That was a good game you played out there.”

I stop again when Mike starts talking.

Again.

“Thanks.”

“You’ve gotten a lot stronger on defense since the last time I saw you play.”

I nod. “You’d be surprise how much someone improves their game in eight years.”

The snide comment just wiped the smile completely off his face.

Good.

He lowers his head and… damn. Why do I feel guilty being mean to this asshole? He’s been nothing but mean and nasty to me my whole life. He doesn’t just get to waltz back through the door and get a fresh start. I don’t get back all the hard years. I don’t get a redo.

“I know you don’t want to eat, but maybe you can sit in here with me and Scar just this once. This is kind of a celebration dinner,” he adds, chuckling a bit.

Walk away and leave his ass standing here looking like an idiot. Don’t fall for whatever game he’s playing.

I look at him—pitiful and hopeful.

“A celebration for what?” I ask, hating that I’m even being minutely cordial.

His smile is back, but it’s far more subdued than before.

“I got the job.”

His announcement makes my stomach twist a bit. Maybe it’s shock or… maybe I’m a little excited for what that could mean for our household. I’ve pulled the weight on my own for so long, I—

No. Don’t get your hopes up. There’s no guarantee he’s planning to take care of business. How many times have you seen him blow an entire paycheck on booze and bullshit?

“Congrats,” I say with a dry grin. It’s all I can muster, and I’m not even certain he deserved that.

“Thanks. So, does that mean you’ll be joining us? I could kind of use the buffer with Scar. She’s a little upset with me for making her delete that damn gossip app last night. Seemed unhealthy how much she’s on that thing,” he adds with a nervous smile.

I glance over at the table he set, at the sink full of dishes he’s preparing to wash. For so long I wanted this—for him to be a dad—but now I’m terrified to give him a chance. Having that taken away twice in a lifetime might be too much for me.

“Pass.”

I don’t have it in me to hear what he’ll say next, to see the disappointed look on his face, so I head to my room and shut the door. I don’t let myself think about possibly having just hurt his feelings, because I have a task to complete. And when Ricky honks his horn outside, I’m able to refocus.

Quickly slipping into a pair of stretch pants and an oversized hoodie, I head out and climb into the blue muscle car that awaits me.

“Ready for this?” Ricky asks with a grin, and I smile back.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

We had two stops planned and we made both as quickly as possible before heading back to his place. First, we got gas at a gas station on the north side, where we’d most likely be seen by a Pandora follower. Next, we hit a fast-food spot and made sure to show a little too much PDA for two people who constantly insist they’re just friends. I leaned on his shoulder while waiting in line. Then, while I ordered food, his hand rested at the small of my back. With any luck, those pics would be in circulation before night’s end.

Now, we munch on our fries, veg out on his couch, and wait for the updates to start blowing up our phones.

“They put way too much salt on these,” Ricky complains, continuing to stuff his mouth.

Watching him, a laugh slips out. “And yet, you’re still eating them. Interesting.”

“I’d eat anything right now. I’m starving,” he admits. “With Aunt Carla gone, I’ve had to fend for myself, and I’m not gonna lie, it gets a little weird around here at dinner time. Last night, I ate hotdogs and spaghetti noodles.”

Imagining what that would look like on a plate, I frown a bit.

“Well, you could always stop by my house and eat my portion. Mike’s suddenly Chef Boyardee. He cooks most nights, which is strange. Pretty sure they gave him shock therapy in that place.”

Ricky eats yet another handful of fries and shrugs. “Maybe he’s really trying this time. Either way, if it’s an act, he can only keep that up for so long. Time will tell if he’s sincere.”

He’s right, but I choose to finish my food instead of continuing this conversation. If we keep going, I’ll likely lose my appetite.

My phone sounds off and I almost knock over my soda trying to get to it, thinking it’s the posts we’ve been waiting on. It isn’t Pandora, but I’m excited all the same.

West: Just saw you an hour ago and I’m already fucking horny again. How the hell is that even possible?

I smile and sit straight in my seat.

Blue: Such a poet. You should put that in a book.

West: Not even kidding. Staying away from you is driving me out of my mind.

West: Currently lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, hard as a brick.

If I could see my own face, I’m pretty sure it’d be bright red.

Blue: Well, do something about