At the sound, my reality instantly snaps back.

  I gather all my energy to push him back harshly.

  Roman leans back, panting heavily. His eyes are dark with desire, heated and lustful.

  My hand slaps his cheek, the impact sending his face tilted to the right. I watch as an angry mark builds on his skin, sweltering slowly. He tilts his head, meeting my incensed gaze.

  “How -“

  “I’m not sorry,” he rasps.

  “You should be,” I pant, taking a step back.

  Roman straightens his back, watching intently. “I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you on our first day.”

  No.

  Stop it.

  Without looking back, I push the keys inside and slam the door on Roman, breathing heavily as my back presses against the wooden surface. It takes a while until I hear his footsteps patter away, faint in the background. When the coast is finally clear, I allow myself to release a sharp exhale, covering my face.

  I’m never going back to school.

  I’m never facing him again.

  My lips don’t stop tingling with sparks, my body missing his presence despite my mind screaming to forget him.

  I dream for the first time that night.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ROMAN

  She’s all I can think about and it’s driving me crazy.

  I’ve been in practice the whole week, training hard and pushing my body to its limit, all in an effort to forget her.

  Her wild, long hair, those doe, brown eyes that flip my world upside down, the way her mouth scrunches up in distaste when she sees me.

  I’m fucking addicted.

  It’s ridiculous.

  Dad walks past the breakfast table as I eat my scrambled eggs and toast. He gives me a careful look as he checks through his phone. Busy as ever and never off for a minute. Is it any wonder that I am the way I am? Always working my hardest to the best, just in an attempt for him to notice me. To see that I’m worthy as his son.

  Hailey comes down the stairs, grabbing an apple as she gives both of us an indifferent wave. She sticks her tongue out at me and I return the gesture, giving her the finger.

  “Later, loser,” I say with my mouth full.

  “Later, steroid brother,” she snorts. She doesn’t say anything to Dad. Not that he notices. He’s still going through his phone. I shrug at her, trying to communicate that it’s not worth it and she just rolls her eyes, heading out of the door.

  It’s just me and him now.

  “Spoken with the dean of USC and he’s looking forward to seeing you in the autumn,” Dad murmurs before tucking his phone away. He pours himself a cup of coffee. “You’re doing this family proud.”

  “Thanks,” I mutter, playing with my food.

  “I’ve taken the liberty to speak to the coaches on the football team to keep their eye out for you. Won’t be a problem getting you set up for their freshman intake.”

  I drop my spoon, sighing. “I don’t need you to do that for me. I got in on my own merit. I don’t need my dad handing out favors.”

  “It’s called having an advantage. You may not realise it now but you’ll thank me later for the decisions I make for our future.”

  “Our future? Last time I checked I was the only one who got into this year’s USC intake,” I lift my brow.

  He gives me a cold, derisive stare. I see it so many times now that I should be used to it but the stab of rejection, the stab of inferiority pierces my chest and I force myself to keep it together. To not lose my temper and give him the satisfaction that I can’t hold my emotions in check.

  I’m not like him.

  I will never be like him.

  “You should be grateful. If it wasn’t for me, none of those scouts would have had a clue who you were. You would have been right at the bottom of the heap, unnoticed and irrelevant. It’s because of me and my connections that I put you on that map.”

  I clench my fist.

  Breathe, Roman. Breathe.

  “You remember that next time you get a little big for your boots. You may be the star of the Mountford team now but you remember you’re still a small fish in a big pond. You remember who paid for your training, who paid for your equipment, me - your father. You would be nothing if it wasn’t for your father being semi-state champion three years in the running, using his contacts to get you in. USC wouldn’t even send a glance your way if you weren’t Hank Johnson’s son. So remember that when you think it’s just your future and not ours,” he sneers quietly, gulping his coffee in a big swig.

  The angry tears behind my eyes are desperate to flow out but I won’t let it.

  I refuse.

  Instead, I let the fury speak.

  I smash the plate of breakfast on the opposite side of the wall.

  Dad barely flinches. I let out a shout of frustration, howling in rage as I struggle to regain my breathing.

  I hate him.

  I fucking hate him.

  He always does this.

  He always pushes me to that corner. Making me feel this small.

  But it’s my fault.

  I let him push me to that point. I let him push my buttons, igniting those triggers that make it impossible to keep calm, to stay in control.

  I’m the one that can’t stay in control.

  This isn’t who I want to be.

  This isn’t the person I am.

  “Why do you do this?” I pant heavily. I press my hands against the kitchen counter, struggling to regain my breathing.

  He lifts his thick eyebrow. “Do what?”

  “This. Why do you always have to say stuff like that?”

  “Because it’s the truth.”

  What a fucking joke.

  I scoff, nodding as I wipe my face, looking away from him and at something else, anything else. I’m afraid I’ll do something I regret if I see that all-knowing, patronising expression again.

  “Anything else?” I force out.

  Just get the fuck out of here. That’s all that’s running through my head.

  “Yeah, actually,” Dad clicks his tongue. He takes another swig of his coffee before he moves to the hallway, heading for his car. “Call Kyle and invite him over for dinner. It’d be nice to see a kid that’s not an ungrateful brat like my son.”

  The door slams shut.

  Without hesitating, I kick the chairs around me. I see red. Not even caring to keep my emotions in check; I just want to destroy everyone and everything. I howl in anger, throwing all the plates and mugs to the floor, relishing in the feeling when it breaks to pieces, crashing to the floor, unfurling the excruciating pain in my chest.

  Crouching to the floor, I bury my head in my hands.

  Count to ten, Johnson.

  Don’t let him get to you.

  Ever since Mom left, it’s just been him, me and Hailey. He never did this with her but his treatment wasn’t any better; he mostly ignores Hailey, letting her get on with her life without taking much of an interest. An indifference that still brings a painful sting. A dad that doesn’t really care enough to know you. She may not say it but I feel the abandonment in her heart, the pain of never feeling like she’s enough. I protect her fiercely, trying to shield her from it.

  But with me, he actively inserts himself in my business whilst also not taking in an interest in who I am as a person. A different kind of sting.

  Be the best. Do the best. Live with the best.

  Don’t be a failure.

  You’re a Johnson, act like it.

  That’s all he’s wanted from me.

  But not because he cares.

  Because he wants to win.

  Always.

  Even if his son is just a pawn in the grand scheme of things, the goal is to always be the best. To win and beat the competition. To never be a disappointment.

  He never asked if this life is what I wanted. Whether I wanted to play football, to go to USC and follow in his footsteps. He didn’t ask because he didn’t fucking care. There wasn’t any room for what I wanted.

  Because after all, it’s not my future.

  It’s ours.

  ——

  School feels empty without her. Sitting in Mr Smith’s class with her empty seat next to me is a reminder of the shit I caused her and how I made this happen. It was supposed to be easy. But instead it’s fucking with my mind.

  Kissing her was everything I didn’t know I needed.

  She tasted of fucking strawberries and pure temptation. What I’d give to hold her in my arms again, to curl my fingers in her hair, getting lost in her vanilla scent.

  Dawson leans back in his chair, throwing a paper ball my way. He misses. A testament to his poor aim.

  “What?” I grumble.

  “You got the Hemingway paper? I’m fucking lost.”

  “No surprises there,” I murmur before grabbing my essay from the desk, throwing it his way. He barely catches it, mouthing a ‘thank you’. Madison watches us, trying to catch my attention.

  “Ro’, you coming to the party tonight?” She murmurs.

  Always a party. Always a chance to get drunk and forget my problems. Always a chance it could work. But then I know the damage that vice could do to me. The slippery slope of getting lost to my demons. I’ve seen it in Kyle. I’ve seen it in my dad. I can’t throw everything away. I need to get the fuck out of here. Everything is riding on me keeping my shit together and not wasting it away.

  “Not tonight. Dinner with the fam,” I stretch my hands over head.

  She pouts, resting her head in her hand. “Can’t you ditch?”

  “Nope,” I pop.

  Madison dejectedly turns around, talking to Kirsten but I can tell she’s hurt. Hurt that I push her away every chance I get. Honestly, it’s just easier this way. Better to be clear now than a couple of months down the line when she expects a relationship and I’m not interested.

  “Where’s Kyle?” I ask.

  The boys turn to me, Madison peeks her head around. They shrug but there’s an uncertainty in their stares.

  “I don’t know man, he was out last night wasted at some party. Prom thing still kind of roughed him up,” Hunter says. He leaves out the part where Kyle is pissed at me for the damage I caused between him and Kennedy.

  Either way, I have no choice but to invite the guy to dinner.

  So there’s no way to avoid him.

  —

  By the time class is over, I make my way out of the school and near the fields. Yeah, I’m gonna ditching my classes right now but that’s not on my list of concerns. My gaze scans the field and I spot the guy I’m looking for.

  Kyle.

  He’s sitting on the grass, his bloodshot eyes are narrowed and staring at something in the distance, his face looks like he’s worrying about a hundred and one things. I march over to where he sits, watching as he turns my way, lifting his eyebrow in a nonchalant manner.

  “You look like shit,” I gruff out, taking a spot next to him. I pull out some grass mindlessly.

  Kyle doesn’t respond immediately, turning to face the same damned spot again. I follow his line of vision but there’s nothing there but the race track and the courts.

  “You in there?” I say impatiently.

  “What do you want?” He says tersely.

  “And here I was thinking you were ignoring me.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Gladly,” I scoff. “But I gotta deliver a message. Dad’s invited you for dinner, feel free to come or ditch. Whatever it is; I don’t care.”

  He merely nods but doesn’t give me anything more than that.

  It’s infuriating. Kyle and I aren’t like this. We’re never like this. It never felt like I was talking to a fucking brick wall before. But now that’s all I’m getting.

  I guess I really am the master of my own fucked up destiny.

  “You gonna say something?” I push.

  “Why the fuck are you still here?” He clenches his jaw. Any harder and I’m convinced his teeth are gonna shatter.

  “Why are you shutting me out? Over some girl? Since when did a girl come between us -“

  “It’s not just about Kennedy,” his venomous stare catches mine and I flinch at the harsh coldness behind it. It’s unlike the carefree Kyle that doesn’t take life too seriously. A blessing and a curse.

  “Then what is it?”

  He shakes his head, closing his eyes and turning away. “Forget it.”

  I clench my jaw. “No, you started it so finish it. What is it really about?”

  “You can’t ever let me be happy, can you? You had to fuck it up because you want everyone to be miserable just like you. And you think I’m stupid? I see it. I see the way you look at her. You like her and you’ve always liked her. Guess what though, Roman - I like her too. And you acted like a kid throwing their toys out of the cradle - jealous and selfish.”

  “That’s not it at all. You got it so fucking wrong -“

  “Have I?” He snaps. “Then why’d you do it? Why you’d humiliate her like that? Why’d you tell her to go to prom behind my back?”

  Fury bubbles in my chest. I force myself to hold my tongue.

  Kyle chuckles derisively, mocking me. “Don’t go all quiet on me now, can’t handle the truth huh?”

  I stand up, trembling with anger. My emotions are winning in the battle for control and it only ends in chaos when that happens. I can’t take it out on Kyle.

  I hear footsteps behind me and I turn, feeling Kyle’s fist pummel against my cheek. I fall to the ground and he leans his arm back, aiming for a second punch but I block his attack, head butting him in the face. He exclaims in pain, falling back. I twist him on his front and lock his hands behind his back.

  “Can we stop?” I pant heavily.

  He snarls but nods and I release him, watching as he gets up, cleaning his jeans. He won’t look at me but I can feel the rage in his mind. Kyle moves to leave.

  “I did it because I was jealous,” I call out. He stops, turning to face me with an indifferent, stoic stare. “You weren’t supposed to be her friend. You weren’t supposed to get her to trust you, to like you - all the things I wanted but you got there first, you bastard.”

  “Bullshit. I didn’t get there first. You had four years to talk to her like a fucking human being. Don’t blame me for your mistakes.”

  “But you knew, you knew I liked her, didn’t you?” I push, exhaling in frustration. “You knew and you still made a move.”

  “I didn’t make a fucking move. I just talked to her -“

  “Don’t fucking lie to me, Kyle.”

  He shakes his head, running his hand through his hair. “There’s no point arguing about it. You believe what you fucking wanna believe. Either way, we’re done.”

  “Because of Hinch?”

  “Because of your ego,” he snarls. “Because of your issues. Until you work on your own fucked up thinking, everything around you turns to shit.”

  A pinch wraps around my chest. Dad’s words of abuse ring through my head, echoing every negative thought I keep about myself.

  Kyle sighs. “And tell Hank I’m not coming.”

  He turns around, moving out of the field and leaving me alone with my demons.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Kyle calls me a couple of times in the weeks of my suspension. Graduation is a couple of a days away and I’m holding Carmichael to his word; come back with a new attitude or only show up on graduation day.

  I decide for the latter.

  I ignore Kyle’s calls. We haven’t spoken and to be honest, I don’t even know where to begin. We had the early remnants of a budding friendship and then prom happened, and it just became weird. I could have spoken to him but I just struggled. I didn’t know what to say.

  But on graduation day, we finally meet.

  His brown, curly locks are styled neatly, his graduation crap right on top. Those green eyes look around before catching my gaze, widening. He makes his way towards me and I meet him halfway. My heart flutters. My voice lodges in my throat.

  “Hey,” he breathes.

  “Hey,” I mirror back. We’re both staring at each other, unsure of what to say.

  He takes a step forward and my cheeks flame in a crimson blush. Typical. Get it together, Kennedy.

  “You didn’t answer my calls,” he gives me a soft look.

  A couple of seniors pass us by, giggling and chattering away in their blue gowns and taking their seats by the podium. I inhale deeply, pursing my lips. Guilt rushes through me.

  “I’m sorry…I was a coward. I didn’t really know what to say.”

  “You can talk to me, you know?” He holds the sleeve of my gown. The gesture sends a rush of warmth to my skin.

  “I guess I was embarrassed. What happened at prom…”

  He bends down from his tall height, meeting my stare. It’s impossible to look away. “I had no idea they would do that to you. I’m so fucking sorry, Ken. I gave Roman, Madison and everyone a piece of my mind for it but I fucked up. I’ll never do that to you again. I fucking promise,” he says passionately. His gorgeous eyes twinkle with a steely but warm determination. “I let you down. Forgive me.”

  It’s addictive. The earnest way he looks at me, holding me in his gaze, never letting go. The protection and shelter his warm touch, his warm stare gives, it’s so hard not to soften around him. In a school full of thorns and daggers, it’s a breath of fresh air to have a knight to hold you.

  “Forgiven,” I fight a smile.

  “I missed you,” he says softly. “Every day of your suspension made me boil with anger. I’ve had shorter punishments for worse things.”

  “I asked for it.”

  “What -“ He starts, frowning.

  “No, really,” I laugh, putting my hand up. “I actually did ask Carmichael in a way. I didn’t really want to come back if I’m honest. I didn’t feel like facing it all again and most of my work is done so I just chose to keep the attitude. Carmichael wanted me to forgive and forget but I’m still prickly. Madison deserved it.”