King of Denial : An Academy Bully Romance (Boys of Almadale Book 3) Page 4

  “Get the hell off of me.”

  He pushes me sideways, and my head hits the wall with a thud. I’m not fazed though. Nothing will bring this day down for me.

  “Who is it a surprise for?” Corbin asks, and I frown at him.

  “For everyone.”

  “That’s weird that you are throwing everyone else a surprise party on your own birthday.”

  “Shut the fuck up. No one asked you,” I growl, petulantly crossing my arms.

  “Just saying.” Corbin shrugs again while Brock snorts.

  “If I want something done right, I have to do it myself,” I grumble, crawling down from the bed and standing in the middle of the room. “Tonight, I’m asking Trix to be my girlfriend.”

  “Ah, there it is,” Brock says, and my eyes shoot to his. “You can’t do anything without fanfare.”

  “Facts,” I say, reaching out with my fist for him to bump. We hook fingers and bring our hands around with a snap.

  “I thought you were already a thing,” Corbin says, cocking one eyebrow.

  “I don’t know, man. I didn’t think I wanted to be anything. But she makes me … feel.”

  “Dude, you are fifteen. You don’t need a girlfriend. We need to be making out with random girls, not playing house,” Brock says.

  “I don’t need anyone other than Trixie. She’s it for me.”

  “You are insane,” Corbin says, shaking his head.

  I know their feelings. They like Trixie fine, but they think I’m making a mistake. Maybe I am, but it’s my mistake to make. I took it slow. I went the friend route, but the thought of her with anyone else is enough to make me see red. I know I’ve got to make a move soon.

  “I’d rather be insane than boring.” I look at him, and he shoves his fist under and around his arm in an up yours motion. “Anyway, let’s go to Slice ’n’ Dice and make plans.”

  It’s my favorite restaurant. Pizza and board games. What could be more delicious or more fun?

  “It’s nine in the morning. Are they even open this early?” Corbin asks, and I whip my head toward him.

  “Uh, yeah, they serve breakfast pizza.”

  “What the fuck is breakfast pizza?” Brock grumbles.

  “Get your ass out of bed. You’ll never be the same after your first taste of breakfast pizza.”

  Trixie

  I’m holding a cup of something that Bodhi placed in my hands before he got distracted by friends. He’s such a social butterfly, and I’m so … not. It’s weird that we even hang out as much as we do, but I’m not complaining. He makes me happy, and that’s a new kind of feeling for me.

  I don’t think I ever realized that I wasn’t happy. More that I was going through the motions. I was making my family happy. I was being the good little Northcutt girl, a shining example of gentility and good breeding. Something my parents could stick in front of them in pictures along with my older sister. Dressed up in pretty dresses and smiling for the camera. The perfect family, the envy of all their friends.

  Ballet made me happy, but I knew it wouldn’t take me far. I’m not any good, and I don’t lie to myself about it. I do it because I love it, not because it’s a career. I know, eventually, I’ll hang up my ballet shoes. I’ll get engaged, married, pop out kids for my parents to show off. But I don’t think I was ever truly happy until this past semester. Until I met Bodhi and he showed me that there was more to life than being perfect.

  I’m hoping there’s more to us. I’m hoping that he feels what I feel because my heart is getting tangled up in him and it would take me a while to untangle it.

  “Trix, come here,” Bodhi yells from about twenty feet away.

  I’ve gotten used to his loud, boisterous manner. I’ve gotten used to the stares when he calls to me from a distance. I’ve gotten used to him being around, his smell, his touch, even the way he breathes.

  I walk toward him, so far gone that I don’t even care that he’s summoning me. He’s standing on a tree stump, and I look up at him with what I’m sure is a sappy smile covering my face. He jumps down, landing in front of me, and grabs my hand, pulling me with him.

  “Where are you going?” Brock yells from behind us, and Bodhi grins at me.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he yells back over his shoulder.

  We step farther into the tree line, and then he turns and starts walking. There are whoops and whistles and catcalls behind us, but it doesn’t faze me. This is Bodhi. He’s always doing random shit, and I never know what it’s about until he tells me.

  “Are we going somewhere specific?” I ask after we’ve been walking for about five minutes, my hand clasped firmly in his. I notice we have stuck to the edge, walking along the forest and not into it.

  We finally pop out from behind the trees, standing behind the boys’ dorm, and I glance up at it before looking back at him.

  “They won’t miss us,” he says, turning to face me.

  I cross my arms over my chest, chilly in the cool night air, away from the fire. He pulls his hoodie off, placing it over the top of my head and pulling straight down as I giggle inside the material.

  “Hold on. Almost have it.”

  He tugs a few more times while I try to find the armholes with my hands. Finally, my head pops out from inside, and he grins down at me.

  “There. Is that better?”

  I nod my head and smile back at him.

  This feels different somehow. Him going out of his way to make me warmer isn’t; he’s always been so caring and considerate when it comes to me. But this leading me off, away from everyone, when Bodhi usually thrives on being the center of attention means something is up.

  He shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, pushing them down a smidgen. His long sleeves are rolled up his forearms, and he nervously shifts his weight back and forth.

  “What’s going on?”

  He pulls his hands from his pockets and steps toward me, placing them on my upper arms and rubbing back and forth. A muscle in his jaw twitches as I stare up at him, trying to figure out why he’s acting so weird all of a sudden.

  Before I can ask anything else, his grip tightens, and I’m flush against him, pulled into his chest as he wraps his arms around me, resting on my lower back. His lips are on mine, lightly at first but then firmer as he presses in, opening his mouth slightly before pausing.

  I’m stunned and breathless, and I think I might be dreaming.

  I part my lips with his, and he dives in, pushing our hips together now. He’s ravenous, and I’m along for the ride, letting my mouth be ravaged by his and loving every damn second of it. I still don’t understand why this is happening, but I’m not going to ask any questions now.

  He tilts his head, and I follow his lead. His tongue sweeps in my mouth before leaving, a tease as I try to keep up.

  This all-consuming first kiss has my knees weak and my lungs void of air.

  I thought first kisses were supposed to be sloppy, too much saliva and awkward motions, but this is perfection. Exactly the way I dreamed it up in my head, and now, I don’t think I’ll ever come back down from this high.

  “Trix?”

  “Hmm?” I’m incapable of talking. My mouth is numb, my body isn’t working, and my brain has short-circuited.

  “Uh, are you okay?”

  I peek one eye open, seeing that Bodhi has definitely raised his head and isn’t kissing me anymore while I’m standing here with one eye closed and head tilted to the sky.

  Perfect. You don’t look crazy or anything, Beatrice.

  “I’m great,” I say, lowering my face and clearing my throat. “Sorry, needed a moment.”

  “Yeah?” He grins, and I smile back, unable to keep the elation from shining through.

  “Yeah. Thank you.”

  Thank you?!

  “For what?” Bodhi furrows his brows, and I try to figure out how to get his hands on my lower back again.

  “My first kiss,” I say and immediately blush.
<
br />   Shut up, Trixie.

  “That was your first kiss?” he asks, and I nod. Cat’s out of the bag now. “Well, damn. I can certainly do better.”

  “Pretty sure you can’t,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Is that a challenge, Northcutt?” He wraps his arms around me again, and I look him in the eye.

  “I don’t know. Is—” My words are cut off when he suddenly dips me, his nose to mine as his eyes crinkle with a smile.

  “Challenge accepted.”

  He spends the next fifteen hours—or what feels like fifteen hours—attacking my face in the most delicious way possible. I don’t even care that I can’t breathe upside down while kissing. I’d happily die right here where I stand—or where I’m bent in half.

  Then, I’m being thrust upright, and a satisfied, smirking Bodhi is looking at me. I think I probably have hearts floating in a circle around my head, like in the cartoons. Birds are chirping somewhere in the sky, and a love song is playing in the background.

  I’ve got it bad.

  “Beatrice Honeybuns Northcutt—”

  “Not my middle name,” I say with a giggle.

  “Beatrice Back-That-Ass-Up North—”

  I swat him in the chest with the back of my hand as he chuckles.

  “Fuck, B, what is your middle name? I should have planned better for this.”

  “It’s …”

  He leans closer. I smile.

  “Trix, don’t play with me. I’m trying to ask you an important question.”

  “It’s Lucinda.”

  Bodhi blinks at me.

  “Your parents named you Beatrice Lucinda?”

  “Yours named you Bodhi Trent,” I fire back, crossing my arms over my chest. As far as comebacks go, it’s not special. I didn’t really have a point by saying it since I like both of his names.

  “Yeah, but Beatrice Lucinda. You were kind of cursed by your parents from the get-go.”

  “They are my grandmothers’ middle names. My sister got their combined first names. And it’s also why I go by Trixie.”

  “I guess I can overlook it,” Bodhi says, dragging his thumb and index finger down his chin like he’s thinking hard.

  “Get on with it, Montgomery, or I’m heading back to the party.” I narrow my eyes but can’t keep the playful look off my face. I know he’s trying to mess with me.

  “Beatrice Lucinda Northcutt …” Bodhi pauses, one corner of his mouth twitching, and I let a snort escape. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?”

  I suck in a sharp breath.

  My heartbeat is erratic, and I feel my hands grow clammy. First kiss and the girlfriend of Bodhi Montgomery, my childhood crush, all in the same night? Have I died and gone to heaven?

  “I guess,” I say nonchalantly while Bodhi’s mouth drops open.

  “You like busting my balls, don’t you?”

  I step forward, wrapping my arms around his middle. I press my forehead into his chest and inhale deeply. He smells like the woods and his body wash, a hint of fire and perfection.

  “Yes,” I mumble into his shirt.

  “Yes, you like busting my balls?”

  “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend, you idiot.”

  “Ah, the terms of endearment you come up with are too much,” he says, laughing and hugging me back. “Should we try that kissing thing again? We should practice and get it perfect.”

  “I’m game,” I say, tilting my head up, and I think my heart might burst as he lowers his, our matching grins meeting and melting as the lust takes over.

  6

  Bodhi

  Freshman Year—New Year’s Eve

  “What are we doing?” I whisper against Trixie’s back, smiling when I see the goose bumps on her shoulder.

  “Don’t talk against my skin; it tickles,” she protests, poking her head out from behind a bush.

  She brings her head back, turning to look at me, and grins. Her face is an inch from mine, and I close the distance, pressing my lips to hers.

  We’ve had a lot of practice since that first explosive kiss outside the wood line at Almadale, and I capture her mouth with mine any chance I can get. She still tastes sweet. At first, I thought it was something she had eaten or drunk that night, but it turns out, that’s Trixie. And I can’t get enough.

  “Okay, okay,” she says, giggling breathlessly as she pushes me back. “I’m waiting for someone to come out of that door.” She points straight ahead at a nondescript door set in the back of the Northcutt mansion.

  “Who?”

  “Mrs. Appleby. She comes out to head to her cottage around this time each night, and I want to creep past her.”

  “Why?”

  “She is a spy.”

  “For real?”

  “For my parents. And I don’t want them to know I’m sneaking you upstairs.”

  “Good plan,” I say, nodding and shifting where I’m crouched on my haunches. I’m starting to lose feeling in my left foot.

  True to Trixie’s word, the door opens, and a gray-haired woman steps through, carrying a tea tray like this is 1900s Britain. She crosses the lawn, disappearing down a path.

  “Come on,” Trixie says, waving me along.

  It’s the end of December, and the Northcutts are throwing a fancy party for New Year’s Eve, one that kids aren’t invited to so they don’t know we are here.

  I follow Trixie in the side door, entering a large kitchen area, where we try to appear invisible and scuttle through quickly. Finally, we are rounding the corner, and Trixie pushes through the swinging door to a stairway. It’s dark, but there’s enough light for me to stare at her ass as it swings back and forth with each step she takes.

  “Bodhi?” she whispers, stopping.

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you staring at my ass?”

  She turns slightly, and I move up onto the same step as her. I place my hands against the wall, boxing her in as I grin down at her.

  “The mouth on you,” I say, bringing my nose down and lightly swiping it across hers. She tilts her head up for a kiss, but I don’t touch her lips. “Yes, I was staring at your ass.”

  “It was tingling,” she says, her eyes closed, waiting for my kiss that’s not going to come. Always leave them wanting more.

  “What about now?” I reach around and take one cheek in my hand, squeezing, and she lets out a light squeal.

  “Bodhi Trent Montgomery,” she chastises and ducks underneath my arms to move further up the steps.

  I resume my staring, being blatant about it as she looks over her shoulder at me.

  “You know, you can give me a nickname,” I tell her, and she continues to walk.

  “Why?”

  “Isn’t that what couples do? I call you Trix instead of your full name.”

  “Thank God you don’t call me sugar tits or something like that,” she says, and I bark out a laugh.

  “Sugar tits, huh?”

  We finally get to the top of the stairs, and she pushes the door open slightly, peeking out before opening it further.

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “You brought it up,” I point out, and she looks at me, dramatically rolling her eyes.

  “What about Bo?”

  “Bo?”

  “For your nickname?”

  “Trix and Bo. It fits.”

  “I like it,” she says, grabbing my hand and pulling me along.

  We go right and then left as we come to the end of the hall. Trixie is practically at a full sprint, and I’m trying to keep up without hitting her feet while running so close together. We come to the second door on the left, and Trixie pushes through, still gripping me, and then turns to close it. She leans her back against it, her cheeks pink as she smiles at me.

  I look around her room, decorated in white and pink and pastel purple. It’s super girlie and super Trixie. She has a few pictures around the walls, mostly of ballet or abstract art. She has a poster up for the ballet exhibit at the
history museum, as if she doesn’t want to forget it’s happening, and one picture of herself en point with a tutu. I step closer to it, my eyes tracing the lines of her body in the tight leotard.

  “I like this one,” I say, pointing at the picture.

  She’s still standing against the door, staring at me.

  “I’ve never had a boy in my room before,” she blurts out, and I cock my head to the side.

  “Oh yeah?” I grin, and she nods in the affirmative.

  I stalk toward her, my attention gone from the picture to focus directly on the subject of the picture. She ducks around me, skittering across the room, and I turn, brow furrowed. I cross my arms over my chest and lean back against the door she was on.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Cut the bullshit, Trix. Be honest with me. Always be honest with me.”

  “Okay. You make me nervous.”

  “How?”

  “Being here right now. Us, alone, in my room.” Her eyes dart to the side, not looking at me.

  I watch a blush rise in her cheeks, and I stick my tongue in between my teeth, biting down as I think about how to answer. I never would have come here if I had known she would be uncomfortable.

  “I can leave,” I say, tilting my head toward the door I’m on.

  “No.” The sharp word hangs between us, and I’m unsure how to proceed.

  “You know I’d never force you to do anything, right?” I ask, looking her dead in the eyes. No joking between us.

  “I know.”

  “Then, what are you nervous about?”

  “I don’t know. My parents can’t catch us in here.”

  “They won’t.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Trix,” I say, striding toward her and grabbing her hand in mine. “What reason would your parents have to randomly check out their daughter’s room during a party you aren’t even supposed to be at?”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” She nibbles on her bottom lip. “God, I don’t know what’s wrong with me right now.” She sinks down onto her bed and rubs her temples.

  I kneel in front of her, grabbing her wrists and pulling her hands from her face. I pucker my lips, letting her lean in for a quick peck.