18. Monroe

EIGHTEEN

monroe

The country roads rushed by the window as I sat in the back of the old sedan, refusing to look in Zepp's direction. He'd pissed me off. And then he'd kissed me—when I was pissed. I hated the way my heart beat a little faster, the way that kiss made me feel—weak.

"You two bang on the hood on Harford's ride or something?"

I glared at Hendrix in the rearview, and a grin stretched over his lips.

"It's tenser than my dick in here," he said.

"Speaking of stolen cars." I eyed the twisted ignition cables dangling from the steering column. "Why are you riding around in one?" Stealing cars to sell was one thing, but cruising around in them, that was just asking for a pair of cuffs.

"It was Old Man Otis'." Hendrix bowed his head then crossed himself, swerving across the lane. "God rest his perverted old bones."

Zepp grabbed the steering wheel, redirecting the car back onto the highway. "Eyes on the road, dick."

"You grave robbed?" I asked.

"He doesn't need it anymore." Hendrix cackled like a hyena. "Besides, that man was a dick. And I robbed his front yard. Not his grave." He turned up the radio, and twangy country music crackled through the speakers. He glanced at Zepp. "What happened to Harford's corvette?"

Before Zepp could answer, I did: "He pushed it into a lake."

"What the hell did you do that for, you idiot?" Hendrix did a full turn around to look at me, the car veering to the shoulder. "Why'd you let him do that?"

I whacked him the back of his head. "Look at the road! Jesus Christ. Who taught you to drive?"

He looked forward again. "Old Man Otis." The car turned onto the highway by the high school, and I leaned between the front seats. "Can you drop me at school? My car's there."

Hendrix looked at Zepp like he was God and needed his approval.

"Don't look at him." I clipped him around the head again.

"Ow! Call your girl off."

Zepp said, "She's not my girl" at the same time that I said, "I'm not his girl."

Hendrix barked out a laugh. "You two are so bumping uglies." He did a little dance in his seat while singing: "Bow-chica-wow-wow."

"Take me to my damn car, Hendrix!" I needed out of this car with these two.

"Please, God. Yes!" Zepp groaned. "Take her to her fucking car."

I glared at the back of his head. The second Hendrix pulled up at the school gate, I got out, slamming the door behind me. The sedan backfired when they sped off.

I had no idea what had happened. How Zepp and I had gone from shouting at each other to him pinning me against that phone booth. I hated that I liked it. That kiss was rough and angry and unexpected. I stopped in the middle of the abandoned parking lot, staring at my car. I had told him I didn't need him, but some part of me already did. I was screwed. For once, my car decided to start, and I had never been so grateful for the shit box's co-operation.

On Saturday night, I called in sick at The White Rabbit. I couldn't stomach stripping and having men leer all over me. It had only been a week since Max had drugged me, but things like that happened all the time. The situation sucked, but sitting in the trailer did nothing but give me time to think. Which was the only reason I went to the mall with Jade.

Jade thumbed through the discount rack while I watched, already bored and regretting my decision to come here.

The distinct click of heels stopped right beside me. The girl huffed, and I glanced over, having to stop from rolling my eyes. Of course, it would be Leah in her sweater and plaid skirt, even a damn headband. She couldn't be any more Barrington if she tried. Two of her friends were with her, like little clones in matching outfits. She flicked through the clothes with a curl of disgust to her lip before her gaze drifted to me.

"Oh, look. It's Dayton's trashiest white trash." She lifted a brow, crossing her arms over her chest with way too much attitude.

"God, fuck off, Leah." I matched her stance. "You're Barrington's biggest bitch. We get it."

She dug a fist into her hip, striking a classic cheerleader pose. "Just so you know, my boyfriend wouldn't want you." She stepped closer—both hands on her hips now. "So that little lie you're spreading around about him trying to sleep with you, you may as well give that up. It's pathetic."

Me trying to sleep with him ? Zepp was the one who had started that damn rumor.

Despite that, heat crawled through me, a twinge of jealousy tightening my chest. It shouldn't have bothered me that Leah thought she had a claim on Zepp, but it did. I'd never show her that, though. "Zepp's all yours. Whatever you've heard is bullshit."

Her nose wrinkled like she'd sniffed dog shit. "That scumrat? Eww." The girls beside her giggled, and it pissed me off. She was all over him only last week. "I'm talking about Max Harford. You know, the quarterback for Barrington."

My stomach dropped at the mention of his name. I knew she'd dated Max before, but I figured she'd moved onto Zepp.

Jade was beside me in an instant. "Good luck with that. Guess he doesn't have to drug you."

"Like he would even have to try with that slut." Her eyes cut over at me.

"You can keep your rapey boyfriend to yourself." I shifted closer, and she took a noticeable step back. "Not sure he'll get it up now, though. I hear someone messed him up real bad."

Her eyes narrowed to slits, cheeks reddening. "And that thug should be in jail for it!"

I took a step, backing her into a rack of clothes. "He's not the one who should be in jail."

She sank back into the sweaters a little more. "Honestly, with the way you dress," her poisonous gaze flicked over me, "you deserved it."

Before I registered the movement, my fist drove into her perfect nose. She toppled back into the rack, screaming while she clutched her face. Then, of course, the tears started. Her friends looked at me like I was some kind of monster.

"Oh shit." Jade grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the shop in a hurry.

The churning in my stomach grew by the second. Leah may have been a bitch, but that fact didn't stop the words looping through my mind: You deserved it . A guy strolled out from a shoe store, his eyes lingering on my legs like I was a passing meat platter. For the first time in my life, it bothered me. For the first time ever, I wanted to hide. Everything built up into a frenzy, a cyclone swirling through my head at max speed.

I ducked into the next clothing store, and my eyes strayed to the rack of jeans. I snatched two pairs and paid for them, not even worried about the unnecessary money I was spending. Right now, I didn't care. Jeans suddenly seemed like a safe haven, and I hadn't owned a pair since I was twelve.

Jade watched me take the bag from the cashier, a little line sinking between her brows. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Jade." I wasn't.

We left the store, and I went straight to the mall restroom to change. I didn't recognize the girl staring back at me in the full-length mirror. Sadness smoldered in her eyes like the ashes of something that had once burned so bright. I instantly hated her.

Jade took one quick glance at the jeans, and a small smile touched her lips.

Jade was the one person I knew I wouldn't have to explain this to. "Lunch?" she asked.

I wasn't hungry, but I nodded anyway. "Yeah."

We went to the burger place in the mall and took a seat at one of the bistro-style tables. The food court always made me edgy. It was in the very center of the mall, surrounded by the mezzanine walkways of the second and third floors. There had been several shootings here. I mean, it was a mall near Dayton. And that was just one of the reasons I didn't like coming.

A child screamed a couple of tables over, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Jade eyed me like I was losing it. "Seriously, Monroe, are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" I shouted, earning me a glare from the Mother's Day Out group at the table beside us.

Jade's eyes went wide for a second.

I dropped my chin to my chest, sweeping a finger over the table. "Sorry."

"It's fine." She stood up. "I'm gonna go order a burger, want one?"

"Sure. Thanks."

Jade crossed the busy food court, standing in line at the Burger Barn. I hated that I had snapped at her like that, but I just… My phone buzzed. When I pulled it from my bag and glanced at the screen, I felt a small smile tug at my lips, but then I scowled.

Asshole: What R U doing?

I was still mad at him for whatever that was yesterday. I typed a reply, deleted it, retyped.

Asshole: I keep thinking about kissing U.

My cheeks heated. That kiss was everything I had expected from Zepp. Hot and angry. Rough. But I wasn't about to give him any inclination that I liked it.

Me: I keep thinking about what an asshole you are

Asshole: Don't make me call U a liar again Monroe

Asshole: Come over

Me: I'm busy

Asshole: I doubt that.

So arrogant. A few seconds passed before my phone buzzed again.

Asshole: What if I tell U I'm sorry?

Me: *You.

Me: What for? Kissing me or being an asshole?

Asshole: Neither

Me: Then what are you sorry for?

Asshole: Things

He clearly didn't know how an apology worked.

Me: Things? If this is a bid to get in my pants, you're failing

Honestly, I knew we were long past that, but if that wasn't the aim here, it left us in a gray zone that I didn't know how to navigate. Lust, I knew what to do with that. I'd been fending it off since I grew a pair of tits. But Zepp didn't treat me like everyone else. He didn't disrespect me, and he didn't look at me like a piece of meat. I didn't know how to deal with that.

Asshole: Am I? Really?

Asshole: What if I miss yoU?

Dickhead.

Me: You saw me two days ago

Asshole: And?

Asshole: Still miss yoU

I hesitated.

Me: Must be my charming personality

Asshole: Nope. Totally yoUR tits.

Me: Obviously

Asshole: yoU coming over or what?

Me: I don't know

Asshole: See yoU in a few, Roe.

Evasive prick.

On a sigh, I tossed my phone onto the table. Somewhere along the line, hate had become want, and I knew, just knew how stupid that was. Zepp fucked and chucked girls regularly, each one thinking she was going to be the idiot to change him. But I didn't think for a second that I could change him, and I wasn't about to be his next heartbreak. Every fiber of me knew he was a bad idea, but he also felt like the only safety in a world of chaos. Dangerous. So very dangerous.

After dropping off Jade, I went home to my mom's dilapidated little trailer. I sat in my tiny room, studying, trying to purge my mind of thoughts. As I stared at the pages of my history book, this feeling crept up on me, burrowing into my chest and hollowing out a void that felt all-encompassing. It was the deep ache of loneliness—something I rarely allowed myself to feel because I was always alone. When I was younger, my mom used to have lucid moments between the highs. For a few minutes, it was like I actually had a mom, and God, how I craved that sense of just... having someone. Anyone. A lump clogged my throat. As if he could sense my weakness, my phone vibrated with a text from Zepp.

Asshole: Where R U?

Me: Home

Asshole: UR supposed to say: on my way to UR house

I inhaled a deep breath, resenting this pointless flicker of hope that I felt. Zepp Hunt wasn't a guy to pin any kind of hope on. My head knew that, but my lonely heart...

Me: Don't you have better things to be doing?

It was a Sunday night, but I was sure he could be doing other things.

Asshole: No. Come over.

Seconds passed before the next text came through.

Asshole: Please

I was sure Zepp rarely said please to anyone.

My indecision meant it was late by the time I pulled up outside his house. Fundamentally, I knew I should ride this shit out alone, the same way I always did. But a horrible little voice whispered that I didn't need to.

I knocked on the front door, then leaned against the frame, listening to the crickets chirp in the grass. The door creaked open, spilling light onto the porch.Zepp filled the entrance, a T-shirt and loose sweatpants looking better on him than they had any right to.

"Hey," I said, hating how awkward I sounded. But this was the first time I had come to Zepp's because I wanted to. Because he had invited me.

His gaze roamed over me, stopping on my jeans for a beat too long. "Jeans, huh?" He stepped to the side, inviting me in before he closed the door, locking the deadbolt and the series of chains commonplace in Dayton.

"Yeah."I moved down the hall and into the living room, Zepp right behind me.

He fell onto the tattered couch, grabbing a game controller from the table. "Why jeans?"

"Where are the guys?" I wasn't going down this road with him.

His lips pressed into a hard line. "Gone."

I swiped the other game controller from the table and settled onto the sofa beside him. "Show me how to play."

"Show you how to play?" He laughed, before scooting to the edge of the couch and brushing his knee against mine. "You played anything before?"

"My mom didn't exactly deck out the trailer with a game console. But I can bowl with a rock and beer bottles."

He smiled—the first genuine smile I had ever seen on Zepp Hunt's face. And it made my heart do a stupid flip-flop. Just great.

"Right." He took my thumb, then mashed it against one of the buttons. "This is what you press when you want to jump." He moved my finger to the red dot. "This one shoots. And this one—" My thumb bumped the toggle. "It's how you run and shit. You know, move your guy."

"Okay. I got it."

I pressed against the switch, and my army man darted across the screen. Bullets zoomed past, and I ducked behind a bush. Zepp shot me down in less than a minute.

When the next game started, he shifted a little closer on the couch. The pop of rapid gunfire came through the speakers, loud enough to wake anyone in the house. I glanced over my shoulder to the entranceway, wondering if Zepp's parents were around. I'd never seen them, but that wasn't uncommon in Dayton. Half of us had a hooker mom, a deadbeat dad, or a parent working three jobs just to survive.

"Is your mom here?"

His finger jabbed harder over the controller. "No."

Zepp killed my avatar, the screen turned red, and I flopped back on the sofa. "Why do you have to kill me? Why can't we just be friends?"

He glanced at me with a brow raised. "It's a game. We fight each other."

"You know how they say video games promote violence…" I sat up when the sound came back through the speakers. "Hendrix."

Zepp chuckled. "He was fucked up way before we ever bought a game console." His tongue peeked between his lips while his fingers went wild over the buttons. "He tied up some kid with a cable lock in third grade, then put him in a wheelbarrow, and dumped him on the train tracks. All because the kid kissed the girl Hendrix had a crush on."

"Oh my God. He's probably a shrink's wet dream."

We kept playing, and I kept dying—until several games in, where I finally shot him. I gave Zepp a smug smile. Then the game restarted.

"So, since you're smart enough to tutor…" He stared at the screen, moving his player across the desert. "I guess you're gonna go to college or some shit, huh?"

"Yeah. I'm good with numbers. Figure I can probably get a scholarship for accounting."

He snorted. "An accountant?"

"It's good money."

Seconds ticked by. Zepp kept shifting in his seat, his fingers pressing harder at the buttons like he was frustrated.

"What about you?" I asked. "Are you applying to college?"

"No."

I could sense his tension. I wanted to ask why not, but Zepp was an ever-shifting labyrinth of walls coming up before sliding down for the briefest of moments.

We sat and played, and for a couple of hours, I thought about nothing else but trying to kill Zepp's character. After the first ten games, I couldn't work out if I had gotten good, or if he just let me kill him.

The GAME OVER message flashed across the screen when I shot his avatar. Zepp took the controller out of my hand and tossed it onto the table. "Tired?"

I wasn't, even though it must have been the early hours of the morning by then. "Trying to get me into your bed?" I said. Not that I hadn't already been in it, but drunk and drugged didn't count.

"Does it matter?" He pushed up from the sofa, grabbed my hand, then pulled me to my feet.

"Yes." I snorted. "I'm going to go. I didn't come over here to jump in your bed, Zepp. I just needed.. ." Him. I had needed him.

"And I didn't invite you over for a fuck." He yanked me closer. "I just want you to stay. Al-fucking-right?"

Clutching his shirt, I rested my forehead to his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent. I wanted to stay, which was the exact reason I should have left. But instead, I whispered, "Okay."

He led me up the creaking staircase to his room. The door shut behind us.

One quick glance at my jean-clad legs, and he thumbed at his nose ring. Then he fell onto the chair in front of his small desk. "Come here."

With each step closer, nervousness wound through me. A stifling beat of silence stretched between us before Zepp's fingers brushed the bare skin of my waist. "What's with the jeans, Roe?"

"I uh…" I scrambled for something—anything but the truth. "I wanted a change?"

"Bullshit." He pushed to his feet. His entire frame bristled with the aggressive energy that was as natural to him as breathing. My palm pressed to his stomach, meeting the rock-hard muscle beneath his worn shirt.

"What? I'm not allowed to wear jeans now?"

"I've never seen you cover those legs." Rough fingers skirted underneath the hem of my shirt, leaving heat in their wake. "Not even in the middle of last year's snowstorm."

My gaze fell to the floor. Zepp and I had never spoken until I jacked that car from him. The idea that he had noticed anything about me a year ago shouldn't have caused that stupid flutter in my chest. But it did.

I had no explanation for him, though, because the truth was, the clothing I'd always worn like armor now made me feel stripped and vulnerable. Leah's words had cut a wound far deeper than I ever should have allowed. I was festering from the inside out, and for the first time in my life, I didn't feel comfortable in my own skin. But I wouldn't tell him any of that.

He pressed a finger under my chin, forcing me to look at him. "I liked the damn skirts and fishnets."

"Well, that's okay then. Zeppelin Hunt likes it."

We were so close, and I gravitated toward the heat of his body—the warmth of his touch. Zepp had become a safe haven; an unlikely protector I didn't want but at that moment, needed.

But I didn't know how to do this with him. Awkwardness crept up on me, and I took a small step back. He looked at me like he didn't know what to do. Like he was absolutely lost, and for some reason, I couldn't imagine Zepp Hunt had ever been lost when it came to a girl in his bedroom.

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck on his way to his dresser, grabbing a T-shirt from the bottom drawer. He tossed the balled-up shirt to me.

I glanced down at the worn material in my hand. "Thanks."

"I can give you boxers if you want."

"I'm good."

I avoided making eye contact with him before going to the bathroom to change. I slipped into the band T-shirt that smelled of everything Zepp. My reflection caught in the toothpaste smeared mirror, and I judged the girl staring back at me because she was weak for a hopeless boy.

I stopped in the doorway when I noticed Zepp sprawled on top of the sheets in nothing but his boxers. All inked, tanned skin, and chiseled lines on display. He brought a joint to his lips, his gaze trailing over me in a way that made my heart skitter in my chest.

"That shirt looks good on you, Roe." He held out the joint to me when I crawled onto the bed. "You should keep it."

I didn't often smoke, but my nerves were on edge. So I took it, inhaling a deep breath. "Thanks," I said, a pungent cloud drifting in front of my face. I took another drag, then passed it back to him. Seconds later, my muscles relaxed. All tension evaporated, and I didn't give a shit about anything but Zepp. I wanted parts of him that girls like Leah Andrews could never hope to see.

"Tell me something about you."

He absentmindedly twirled a piece of my hair around his finger. "I'm fucking high…"

So was I, but if anything, it made that wall I usually surrounded myself with crack and crumble. "Tell me something no one else knows about Zeppelin Hunt."

"I just told you I was high, right? Like no one else knows that right now. For sure." He dropped my hair on a laugh.

"So am I. But you don't see me avoiding shit."

"The first time I noticed you was two summers ago when you were washing some shit car in your drive. I told the guys you were off-limits." He nudged me. "You're welcome. Hendrix would have tried to screw you."

That was almost sweet. For Zepp. "But you never even spoke to me."

"I told you, I never talked to girls I don't sleep with."

"Should I be offended that you never tried that, either?"

"Are you kidding me?" He rolled to his side, trailing a warm finger across my lips. "Do you have any idea how bad I want you?"

And how many girls had he said that to? How many had fallen at his feet for that line? I wanted something from him, but it wasn't that.

Something crackled to life when my palm slid over the hard plane of his chest. Like static electricity igniting each particle of air between our bodies. Everything I knew about Zepp told me he was a bad idea, I knew it, but in that moment, he was simply a boy who made me feel.

"What if I just want to kiss you?" I whispered.

"I wouldn't stop you."

Strong fingers dug into my hips, and there was a pause, a precipice we both seemed to linger on. Zepp's lips met mine, stealing every trace of breath from my lungs. He made me want to break for him because that kiss said he'd catch my scattered pieces and rearrange them into something hard and indestructible.

His gentleness only lasted a few moments before he snapped, pulling me into his lap. The kiss grew every bit as brutal as he was, and heat blazed across every inch of my skin when Zepp pressed up between my legs, solid arms banded around me.

"You feel so good, Roe," he mumbled against my lips. His hands went to my ass, and I moved them back to my waist.

"Fuck." He pressed against me again, agitated, like a wild animal pacing the bars of a cage.

I could sense him ready to snap.

"Tell me you don't want to?" He groped at my chest, and I guided his hand back to my waist again.

"I'm not fucking you," I said on a staggered breath, though I couldn't deny that I liked the way he felt pressed between my thighs.

"Other things." He fisted my hair, teeth sinking into my bottom lip as he pushed up against me. Heat shot through me like a drug. "We can do other things."

Gripping his jaw, I forced him back an inch. "Just a kiss," I breathed. But I was pretty sure that Zeppelin Hunt had never had "just a kiss" in his life, and this...well, this was so much more than just a kiss. I knew that.

"Bullshit."

"I don't want to fuck you, Zepp."

He froze, hands on my hips. "Then why are you kissing me?"He sounded so confused, and I almost smiled.

"Do you hate it?"

His mouth covered mine. His hands fisted my shirt. "No." Then he groaned and tore away, resting his forehead against my throat. "I'm too high for this shit." He gave me one last, hard kiss, then shifted me out of his lap, and rose to his feet.

He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly cracked. A few minutes passed before a guttural groan came from the doorway. Zepp Hunt was in his bathroom, jerking off because I'd driven him to it. He could have pushed me for more, tried to fuck me, but he hadn't. From him, it was almost sweet.

A few moments later, the bathroom light went off and Zepp came back to bed. "Just a fucking kiss my ass," he said, crawling under the sheets and flipping onto his side before he switched off the lamp.

That night, I fell asleep to the sound of Zepp's aggravated breaths.