Never His Girl: Dark High School Bully Romance (Kings of Cypress Pointe Book 2)

BLUE

My body sinks into the mattress. The one sent straight from heaven. Basking in the realistic glow of LED candles housekeeping situated around the room, I grin from ear-to-ear and make the equivalent to a snow angel on the now rumpled sheets. The towel around my hair and the robe I found in the closet are, legit, made of clouds and love.

This has to be what paradise is like.

Has to be.

“And the lady just handed you the keys?” Jules asks.

“Yup. Either someone made a huge mistake, or Dr. Pryor pulled some strings because she knows life’s sucked a little lately.”

“Lucky bitch,” Jules teases.

She sat on the phone with me while I soaked in the heart-shaped jacuzzi, and stayed on, keeping me company while I explore the amazing suite I lucked up on. It’s made staying inside while everyone else is out partying a little easier.

“Well, now I’m really wishing I was there with you. But at least I was able to keep my promise. I’m there in spirit. Or… in spirits,” she adds with a laugh, prompting my eyes to drift toward the dwindling bottle of vodka she slipped into my bag. She snuck it in sometime after I packed it, to get me through this weekend.

Best. Friend. Ever.

I’ve gone through enough of it to feel a buzz. Well, maybe a little more than a buzz, but I wouldn’t call it drunk, either. Actually, I feel pretty damn good. More relaxed than I’ve felt in weeks.

“This is the life,” I say with a sigh, wiggling my toes toward the mirrored ceiling.

I have yet to dig clothes out of my suitcase, and I’m starting to think I might just spend the night in this robe. Hell, if I could get away with it, I’d wear it to tomorrow’s game, too.

“Well, whatever happened, you deserve it,” Jules concludes. I smile at that, trying to believe what she just said.

A sharp knock has my heart racing, and I sit straight up in bed.

“Someone’s at the door,” I whisper.

Laughing, Jules whispers back. “Then answer it, weirdo.”

I stand, securing my robe tighter. “What if it’s the front desk coming to kick me out because they realize they messed up?”

She laughs again. “Then I guess you’d have to get your shit and go. I don’t know! Just open the damn door!”

I approach slowly, peering out through the peephole. A guy in a baseball cap is waiting there, glancing up when he must’ve heard me on the other side.

“Yes? Who is it?” I ask.

“Uh… I just have a delivery,” he says, glancing down at something before meeting my gaze again. “Looks like it’s for someone by the name of Blue Riley?”

“He knows my name,” I whisper to Jules.

“You’re an idiot,” she says back.

Reluctant, I leave the chain link engaged, but open the door a smidge. Only, when I do, there’s no question why he’s here. He greets me with a smile and holds out a small clipboard for me to sign as proof of accepting the delivery.

Quickly relatching the door, I slide the chain off and open it completely this time, signing my name at light speed.

“That’ll do,” the stranger says chipperly. “Need help taking these inside?”

Stunned, I glance down at what has to be about twenty dozen roses, all set in beautiful crystal vases.

“Uh… no, I can manage,” I answer distractedly. “Thank you.”

He tips his hat, and then it’s just me and the flowers. Well, me, the flowers, and also Jules in my ear, asking what’s happening. Only, I’m not really sure how to explain.

“Flowers,” I say, questioning if I’ve had more to drink than I remember, and I’ve dozed off.

“What? From who?”

I hadn’t even thought to check, but when I stoop to look for a card, there isn’t one I can see.

“I don’t know. Maybe whoever was supposed to have this room?” I say, but then remember the delivery guy knew my name.

Taking a quick glance down the hallway, I don’t spot anyone. Still feeling confused as hell, I get started taking the arrangements inside, placing them on the table, dresser, and then along the edges of the room among the LED candles when I run out of surfaces.

“Did you do this?” I ask, drawing a laugh out of Jules.

“I love you, but not that damn much,” she teases. “Does Ricky know you’re there, maybe?”

“Not unless you told him. Then again, Pandora knows, so it’s not like it’s a secret.”

“Truth,” is Jules’s only response.

I’m down to the last vase and head back to the hall to grab it. My head’s still reeling when I snatch the door open, only expecting to see that last arrangement waiting for me, but—

My heart drops to my stomach. Because there’s a tall, broad-framed figure standing on the other side of the threshold. Dressed in dark jeans and a gray t-shirt that clings to his biceps and chest. He’s clutching his jacket in one hand, and holding the last vase in the other. Then, when I finally peer up, a set of green eyes that have been my undoing since day one burn a hole right through me.

They’re softer than I remember, swimming with emotion I hardly thought him capable of feeling, but… there it is. Plain as day. And damn my stupid heart for being affected.

My shoulders heave beneath the robe and I’m still raw. His recent offense is still burned into memory, still burned into my flesh, making it painful to stare at him now, but I can’t turn away.

“What the hell do you want, West?”

“Just to talk,” he answers. “That’s the only thing I’ve asked you for all week.”

I stare up at him, feeling the rims of my nostrils flaring. “Call you back, Jules,” I say into the speaker on my earbuds.

“And I’ll be expecting a full rundown of—”

Cutting her off, I end the call and shove the earbuds into the pocket of my robe, never taking my eyes off West.

Whether I think he deserves it or not, he has my attention.

“This was you?” I ask, glancing down at the flowers he’s holding.

He nods, thoughtfully biting the side of his lip before speaking. “And the room.”

My heart sinks when he says that, realizing this whole weekend has been orchestrated by his hand. I swallow and straighten my posture, feeling the need to pretend I wasn’t impressed with the accommodations whatsoever.

“Well, either way, I’m not letting you in. So, you should just go,” I finally answer. But when I move to close the door in his face, his words halt me.

“I know the last fucking thing you want to hear is my voice, but… shit. I can’t stand this anymore,” he admits.

I hate that I hesitate, keeping my hand on the door when it should be closed, acting as a barrier between us. But instead, I’m listening to my heart thunder inside me.

“Please,” he says. “I’m… I’m fucking begging, Southside.”

Those words weren’t easy for him to say. It sounded as if he had to pry them from the roof of his mouth, and now he wants to rinse his tongue clean of them. But as hard as they seem to have been to say, they sure as hell aren’t easy to hear, either. Because he still affects me, whether I like it or not.

“I gave in and trusted you once, West, and it turned out to be the worst mistake of my life,” I force out, keeping my back to the door while he speaks from the other side.

“And I take full responsibility for that shit. Believe me. Which is why I’m trying like hell to make things as close to right as I can.”

I should’ve kept Jules on the phone.

I should’ve shut him out.

I should’ve—

“Please, Southside.”

My eyes fall closed and I blame this slight weakness I feel on the Vodka. It’s the only excuse I have when I take a step, turn, and slowly let the door swing open between us.

Otherwise, I’d have to own the fact that he still has some small measure of power over me.

“Two minutes,” I say through clenched teeth. “But just know… there will be conditions.”