17. Drew

SEVENTEEN

drew

"I'm so nervous," Nora whispered, staring through the windshield at Olivia's house. The landscape lighting directed at it made it look pretentious as hell.

Nora had told me earlier she worried about what Barrington kids would think of her. Which shocked me. It was stupid to care what any of these people thought, but then, I'd never been the poor girl, so maybe I was ignorant to her concern.

"It'll be fine. Olivia and Jackson are nice." I cut the engine to Dad's Maserati and got out. Technically, he'd instructed me to only use his car to go to school and for emergencies, but he'd gone on some golfing trip that even his unruly daughter wouldn't keep him from. So, I was going to a party, and there was no way I was walking the two blocks to Olivia's in these heels—I figured driving it a street over wouldn't hurt.

We made our way across Olivia's cobblestone drive. The tap of Nora's heels came to an abrupt halt before we reached the door. "Do I look okay?"

Everything she had on, from the dress that hugged her curves just so, to the bright-red heels, I had loaned her—and told her to keep. I had legitimately never seen someone so happy to strap on a pair of Prada heels.

"Of course." With a smile, I swept a curl over her shoulder, then rang the doorbell.

A mixture of god-awful pop music and ruckus laughter greeted us when Olivia opened the door, then dragged me in for a hug. Her gaze swept over Nora as I introduced them, and Nora waved shyly. Olivia barely acknowledged her before taking my elbow and dragging me toward the kitchen.

A mixture of drinks covered the island, and when we stopped at the end of it, a group of girls glared at us.

"Ignore those bitches," Olivia said. "Their Jackson's desperate admirers. It's gross."

"Speaking of admirers…" I opened my clutch and handed over the box of condoms I'd bought from the 7-11 earlier—inadvertently pissing Bellamy off. I couldn't help but smile. Maybe I was a dick, but I enjoyed his jealousy. Wanted it even. Again with that boy inducing the crazy. At this point, I'd kind of just accepted that he made me mental.

"Drew!" She snatched the box, her face flushing before she opened a random kitchen drawer and shoved them inside. "Oh my God. Jackson will rat me out to Mom and Dad in like, two seconds."

"What will I rat you out for?" Jackson's arm came around my shoulders, and Olivia glared at him.

"Everything."

Ignoring her, Jackson turned to Nora and introduced himself.

Nora turned beet-red, obviously stunned into silence.

"Ugh. God." Olivia snatched a glass of wine from the counter, staring across the room at a group of Dayton girls. "Of course, Dayton's trash would show up." Then her gaze cut right to Nora. "Cute dress." She pinched the fabric. "What is it, Gucci or Armani?"

"Um…"

"Gucci," I said. "Right? That was what you told me."

Olivia poured a glass of wine for me and one for Nora, divvying them out while her gaze never left Nora. "I haven't seen you at Barrington. Where do you go to school?"

Nora gaped, looking at me, then Jackson, then back to Olivia. "Homeschooled. I was um, kicked out of the Catholic school." It took everything in me not to swing my attention to her. Was she that ashamed of Dayton? And did she care that much what people she didn't know thought of her?

"Oh?" Olivia took a sip. "For what?"

"Sex!" she blurted, and I nearly choked on my wine. "Sex with a boy."

"Screw going to a religious school." Jackson snorted and popped the top to a beer.

"Those Catholics." I coughed again.

"She knows I'm Dayton," Nora whispered in my ear.

"No, she just knows you're not Barrington. Because this town is so small, I'm surprised most of them aren't inbred." I glanced at her. "Sorry. Present company excluded."

Jackson walked over to a blond guy in a letterman jacket, and Olivia shifted back to the drawer, quickly opening it and stuffing the condoms into the top of her dress. "Do me a favor, distract Jackson for like, an hour."

"What?"

"It won't be hard. He thinks you're hot." Then she shouldered her way through the party, leaving me unsure how I felt about Jackson's thinking I was hot.

"Hey, Drew?" Jackson waved Nora and me over, introducing us to the blond guy named Max Harford.

Nora looked star-struck, blushing when Max took her hand and kissed over her knuckles. It made me want to gag.

We followed them to the couch, and for the next fifteen minutes, I listened to the two guys talk about football. Max was apparently off the team since he'd broken his legs last year, though how he did it seemed to be a sore subject.

Olivia absolutely owed me for this...

My phone vibrated in my purse, and when I pulled it out, my heart tripped a little at the sight of Bellamy's message.

Dickhead: Baby girl...

Dickhead: You busy?

Me: Right now? Yeah.

Dickhead: Didn't I tell you...You're never too busy for me?

I was about to type out a response when—

"What's up fuckfaces?" the voice booming over the music was definitely Hendrix's, and like someone had scratched a needle over a record, everyone's attention in the room snapped toward the foyer.

Hendrix and Wolf stood by the stairwell, chugging beers. Electricity zapped through my veins like a hit because I knew that meant Bellamy was here.

"Great..." Jackson huffed, but my attention remained aimed at the entrance.

Bellamy stepped into the foyer's arched doorway and looked around the room like it was his own personal playground. Then his gaze stopped on me, and the small smirk on his lips shifted into something I didn't like.

"West," Jackson grumbled, draining the rest of his beer and crushing the can. "God, I hate him."

"If you hate them, why don't you just ask them to leave? It's your house."

He huffed out a breath. "It's not as easy as that. I'm not in the mood for a fight." And if I had to guess, Jackson was a little bit scared of them.

"Nah, fuck it, let's beat them. There are enough of us," Max said, anger lacing his voice. "Maybe kill them." Max leaned in front of me to whisper across to Jackson. "Your dad has guns, right?"

Jackson's hand landed on my thigh, and I was so in shock, I didn't even think to move it.

They could not be serious, but the way Max's jaw tightened before he glared back at Bellamy and the rest of the guys said he was.

"What is wrong with you?" I snapped, shoving Max away.

"Chill out, Drew." Jackson's gaze went right back to the entrance. "I'm not getting a gun. But after what they did to Max, they'll get what's coming to them."

An uncomfortable feeling settled in my chest, and I slapped Jackson's hand away, then pushed to my feet and snaked my way through the party.

Hendrix had a Barrington girl on the kitchen island, his lips at her neck while he groped her boobs. That was a stinging reminder that every girl— every girl, wanted the bad boy, and that was driven home monumentally the moment I glanced through the large floor-to-ceiling window at the back of the house and spotted Bellamy on the pool deck with another girl. The second his eyes met mine, he yanked her into his lap, and my chest went tight. I had the very real urge to shove her into the pool and kick him in the nuts. Crazy, crazy, crazy. Screw him.

Jackson stepped behind me as I poured a small glass of wine and tipped it back, and Bellamy watched us like a hawk.

"Let's go outside." Jackson flashed a perfect smile before leading me out onto the pool deck. Closer to Bellamy and that blonde.

I shouldn't care what Bellamy did, so why the hell did I have the intense urge to make him jealous? Why the hell was I jealous? Over a guy who literally bartered a deal to fuck me... It was stupid and crazy, but undeniable. So, I kicked off my shoes, pulled my dress over my head, and then jumped right into the pool. A bra and panties weren't much different from a swimsuit after all.

"Damn, Drew." Jackson tore off his shirt and stripped down to his boxers before he did a cannonball into the water.

Other people followed suit, taking off their clothes and leaping in. I glanced back at the deck just as Nora snatched her arm away from Bellamy and stormed to the edge of the pool with a roll of her eyes. "He's such a dick," she said, pulling off her dress before diving into the water.

"What was that about?" I asked.

Max shifted behind her. Nora glanced at him, then shook her head. "I'll tell you about it later."

We hung out in the water, everyone laughing and drinking—except me. Every so often, my gaze would drift to Bellamy. That girl was still on his lap, but there was nothing intimate in the way he held her. It looked more like he might snap her in half any second.

One of the guys jumped into the water with a beer funnel. Another guy started swinging his wet boxers around his head. And that was my cue to leave. I looked at Nora. "I'm getting out."

She glanced back at Max, completely smitten. "I'm gonna stay."

I waded out of the pool, and when I glanced across the deck to where Bellamy had been sitting, he was gone, and so was the slutty blonde who had been on him like a parasite all night.

It was fine. I didn't care what he did with her or to her.

I went to grab my dress, but the chair I'd left it in was empty. "Where the hell did my dress go?"

Of course, everyone was drunk, so no one paid attention. "Seriously? Where's my dress!"

"You can go in my room and grab a T-shirt if you want," Jackson shouted, skimming a hand through his wet hair. "You know where they are." That sounded really bad because I was certain no one here knew the only reason I knew where he kept his shirts was because I'd stayed over with Olivia countless times.

I made my way through the house, dripping water the entire way up to Jackson's bedroom. The image of Bellamy screwing that blonde in a bathroom somewhere sprung to mind, and my nails bit into my palms. I hated her, and I hated him, and I hated myself for letting it bother me at all.

I closed Jackson's door and went straight into the bathroom to grab a towel, staring at my reflection as I rubbed it through my hair. The jealousy whirring inside me grew. Bellamy started out as a one-night stand, and that's all he ever should have been, so why in the hell was I letting this get to me so badly?

Sighing, I wrapped myself in the thick towel and went back to Jackson's room to grab one of his shirts.

I'd barely set one foot out of the bathroom before my gaze landed on Bellamy closing the door and locking it. "You know where his shirts are, huh?"

Folding my arms over my chest, I glared at him. "I'm surprised you could tear yourself away from your new friend. She seemed very attached."

"Right…" His chin dropped on a not-so-funny laugh before he started across the room. "You look really comfortable in your guy's towel…"

He kept coming closer. And closer. Of course, it crossed my mind to tell him that Jackson was not my guy, but then that blonde popped up like a foul smell, and well, I never pretended to be a rational human being. My ass hit the footboard of Jackson's bed, and Bellamy was right there. In my face.

"And you know what?" he said, his voice deep and rough. "I fucking hate it."

Tension mounted, so thick I could hardly breathe. Then Bellamy grabbed the back of my head and slammed his lips against mine in an angry kiss, shoving me back onto Jackson's bed.

"I hate you so fucking much." He ripped the towel away, and his mouth was all over me—lips and throat and breasts. Hands groping every bit of bare skin I had.

"I hate you more."

"Seems like it." His fingers reached between my legs. There was nothing gentle about the way he touched me. Just fingers reaching until they stole my breath. "Is that why you're so wet for me, baby girl?"

I moaned into his mouth, each stroke of his hand contorting my body like it was his own personal puppet. It felt like there was a bomb waiting to go off, and this bastard had been holding the detonator since the first time I'd met him.

His fingers worked deeper, his tongue teasing my neck before he gripped my waist and rolled me on top of him. One hand went to my throat, the other still pressing into me, teasing and pushing while I straddled him.

"You haven't gotten me expelled yet," I gasped.

"And that's the only reason my dick isn't in you right now." He fingered me so hard, I knew I'd be bruised, but it felt too good to care. "And as pissed as I am, you should probably be thankful."

With no shame, I ground over his hand, loving the way his grip on my throat tightened while I chased something I desperately needed.

Heat built in my body. I was seconds away from absolute bliss before he threw me back on the bed. "And like hell I'm letting you come first this time."

He worked his belt loose, yanking his dick out and tugging on it before he straddled my bare chest. "You remember how I told you I was gonna come all over your pretty rich-girl face?"

I shouldn't have wanted it, but I did. I needed Bellamy to be every bit as unhinged for me as I was for him. My anger bled through me as I raked my nails up his thighs and grabbed his hips. And then I swallowed his dick, almost gagging when he touched the back of my throat.

"Fuck…" His hands went to the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair as he thrust forward.

I dug my nails into his thighs. Hard, threatening him with a tiny bit of teeth, and he fisted my hair. His abs tensed. His muscles trembled. God, he was beautiful, and the sight of him had my frustrated body strung tight, on the edge.

Right when I knew he was about to come, he pulled away, grabbing his dick and pumping over it. His head fell back on a deep groan that echoed around the room as he came on my chest.

"I always knew that would look good on you." He swiped a finger at the corner of my mouth.

The door rattled, breaking the silence before a bang sounded over the wood. "Drew?" Jackson's voice came from the other side.

Shit, shit, shit. I had just let Bellamy come on me, in Jackson's bed. I scooped up the towel and wiped myself clean.

"Do not answer that door!" I pointed at him. "Give me two minutes," I called.

Bellamy pushed off the bed with a glare. "And the shittiest part of this story: I almost fucking liked you…"

A tiny trace of guilt niggled at me. I should have just said: Jackson was a friend, and it wasn't what it looked like. But then I remembered exactly why I'd let him think I was more than friends with Jackson.

"About as much as you like that blonde downstairs, I'm sure."

I dove for the chest of drawers, taking out a T-shirt and covering myself right as he flipped the lock. He yanked open the door, then tucked himself back into his jeans. "‘Sup, Bennett?" Bellamy's massive frame filled the dimly lit doorway, practically dwarfing Jackson. "I'd at least let her clean my come off her first…"

Oh, he was a bastard.

Jackson's arm drew back, but before he even moved to throw a jab, Bellamy knocked him clean out. Holy. Shit.

"Bellamy! What is wrong with you?" I gasped.

He just knocked the guy out in his own house.

"I told you I was gonna fuck up your life, Drew…" He ducked through the door, disappearing into the hallway. My pulse hammered in my veins like a freight train, and my temper spiked as I dropped to the floor to check that Jackson wasn't dead.

"What the hell?" Olivia popped out of her bedroom, hair disheveled and cheeks sex-flushed. She hurried down the hall, her wide eyes on Jackson. "What happened?"

"Bellamy," I mumbled, completely mortified and livid.

"They're here?" She crouched beside her brother. "I'm calling the police..."

"I'll get rid of them."

"I'm still calling the police!" Olivia shouted as I jogged down the stairs.

It felt like everyone's eyes were on me. The slut of Barrington, in Jackson's T-shirt, and Bellamy's come. This couldn't get any worse.

I stopped in the foyer, spotting Bellamy by the front door, that same blonde beside him once again, staring up at him like she wanted nothing more than to drop to her knees and let him come on her face, just like I had.

Irrational jealousy and hurt lanced through me. Jackson was unconscious, Olivia was pissed, and Bellamy...Bellamy was making me crazy, the same way he always did.

Nora popped up beside me, handing me my bag. "What the hell is going on?"

"Nothing. We're leaving."

I glanced at the dickhead as I dragged Nora to the front door. "I'd leave if I were you," I said to him. Not that I cared if he got arrested. Again.

A cold smirk cut over his lips as he slid an arm around the blonde girl's waist. "Nah, I think I'll stay." Then he kissed her forehead.

Kissed.

Her.

Forehead.

And rage was not the fucking word. I wanted to throw something at his head and drag her out by her hair. Red—that was all I saw as something vicious and ugly twisted in my stomach.

Oh, I was about to do something insane because Bellamy West drove me to it.