I mirrored what he’d done, moving my shaking hands under his shirt and splaying my fingers across his chest. He sucked in a ragged breath, and when he glanced down at me, I saw just how much he wanted me. It was written all over his face, almost like he was silently asking my permission to take that next step. I stopped breathing, and my heart rate hitched. I wanted him, it surprised me, but there was no denying that part of me was terrified. I knew he wanted the intimacy to commence; the bulge between us was proof of that. “Yes,” was on the tip of my tongue. I trusted him not to hurt me, and I’m pretty sure he knew it. Freeing my left hand from the confines of his shirt, I reached up and ran it through his hair, the light, long strands of it, and I tried to overcome my fears of being intimate. He smiled the sexiest, dimpled grin, and all I could think about was the taste of him. I wanted it on my lips again.
“Are you sure,” he asked in almost a whisper.
I rose my hips just the slightest bit and put pressure on the bulge being restricted by his jeans. It sent a thrill through me when he made an almost growling sound of desire in response.
Still here, Echo said reminding me, once again, that Drew and I were never alone.
“Don’t care,” I said in a sing-song-voice and pulled Drew closer to me.
With his lips against mine, he asked, “Don’t care about what?”
“That Echo is seeing way more than she wants to. I don’t care anymore.”
“You don’t!”
“Nope, sure don’t.”
I felt his smile deepen, and his tongue part my lips. I gave him full access and mimicked how he was kissing me. He was pulling my shirt up, and I, his, when the sound of the doorbell had us both bolting to opposite ends of the bed. If I’d thought my heart was racing before, it was nothing compared to the speed it was pumping at that moment.
“Of course,” I ranted and sprang from the bed to go answer the door, Drew right on my heels, shaking his leg and cursing up a storm.
I was madder than a bee in a coke can on a hot summer day until I opened the door, and that anger took a nose dive straight into fear. Tony stood on my doorstep with another officer, a female, and he didn’t look the least bit amused.
“Two times in one day, Eden,” Tony said, shaking his head, “that has to be some kind of record. You know why we’re here, don’t you?”
I couldn’t speak; the words lodged in my throat. I nodded instead, and Tony’s frown deepened. He pulled out a pad and a pen and then looked at me expectantly.
“Well, can we come in, or do you want to do this on the doorstep?”
I stepped aside and let them in, and that’s when Tony saw Drew.
“Awe good, you’re here too that saves us a trip. Alright, you two, tell me what happened, and skip over getting pulled over earlier today, I already know that part.”
What’s to tell that little bitch had it coming, Echo said with rage still evident in her tone.
I ignored her, sat down, and gave Officer Graves all the details.
Chapter Nineteen
Under Lock and Key
I got grounded for two weeks. No phone calls and no seeing Drew outside of school, which started two days later on Wednesday. It was the price I was doomed to pay for Dad convincing Clarissa’s mother to not press charges for assault. I hadn’t just broken Clarissa’s Ulna Bone—Oh no! I’d also fractured her Humorous Bone in the process. She wouldn’t be playing volleyball this season, so instead, she was made a manager. I didn’t emerge unscathed from the whole ordeal, though. My hand and wrist had started to bruise and hurt horribly in the hours after the fight, and before long, I’d been reduced to tears. My still irate Dad took me to the ER to learn that I’d broken my left hand and wrist, so there’d be no volleyball for me either, but I was also named one of the managers. I was pissed.
I walked down the hall looking for locker 615 and couldn’t believe my crappy luck when I saw Clarissa standing 2 lockers down from mine with the door wide open. I felt sorry for whatever poor soul was going to get sandwiched between us.
“Eden,” Jennifer shouted from down the hall and pushed her way through the masses of teenage bodies to get to me. She took my bookbag and then looked at me expectantly.
“What!”
“Oh, I don’t know Eden—how about a locker combo because you’re mistaken if you think I’m gonna carry your bag around all day.”
“My birthday, the single-digit month and then the day—so where’s your locker?”
She scrunched up her face like she always did when something didn’t go her way. “At the other end of the damn hall, number 643. I don’t know what part of ‘close to Eden Garrows’ those idiots in the office didn’t understand.”
“I’ll trade you, anything to not have to be near—her,” Clarissa said, glaring at me and holding up a piece of paper with a three-digit combination on it.
“Deal,” Jennifer dug through her bag and produced her locker's combination, “Nice doing business with you, Johnson.”
Clarissa rolled her eyes and sent
