12. Rhys

PastoralCareclassis bullshit. I don’t even understand why we have this class, but I use it to my advantage, zoning out with my mellow mood, all thanks to my narrated masturbation session with Garrett. Unfortunately, my calmness reminds me of the real issue, which is Marcus, and what I’ve done that I know will hurt him.

It’s rare for me to hit lows like this, to dwell on things and let them bother me. I keep myself serviced enough sexually that it’s usually hard for me to feel the ache of my shame and guilt. Today, however, it’s really digging its claws in. It’s so bad that I feel like everyone will see it written across my face.

Rhys George. Slut. Whore. Friendship destroyer.

Shame! Shame! Shame!

Laying my head on my hands on top of my desk, I pretend I’m too tired to do any work, and I peek at Simon sitting next to Allister on the next table over. He blushed when I walked into class earlier. Not shyly, though. No, Simon Hastings is anything but shy. He likes attention. He enjoys being the centre of it. So, his spine was straight with confidence, and his grin was mischievous, causing those hazel eyes to almost seem green. Even though he was blushing, he still shot me a wink that held promises I so desperately want to explore, yet I can’t. Not just because Garrett asked me not to, but because I know in my heart that what I’m doing to Marcus is cruel.

I care about Marcus. I know I do. I know I still want him, but it’s not enough. I hate that I’m like this. I really wish I could fall in deep with one guy and be happy. He might not realise it now, but putting distance between us is what’s best for him in the long run.

When my phone vibrates with a message, I move like a sloth to pull my phone from my blazer. My mood is too flat to find the energy to sit up, so I rest my chin on the tabletop and reach my arms out in front of me, holding my phone up.

Simon Hastings

What’s wrong with my girl?

Guilt slams into me as I read his words. Not because I don’t like him thinking that way, but because I do like him thinking that way. I love the thought of being his girl. I also love the idea of being Marcus’ girl and Shaun’s girl, and dare I say it? Garrett’s girl.

I am so screwed.

Rhys George

I’m all g! Just a little tired today.

Simon Hastings

Did I wear you out yesterday?

Rhys George

I think you did!

Simon Hastings

Simon says, smile!

I can’t hold back the grin that morphs my face, and I turn my head on the cool surface of the table to see Simon watching me, his lips turning up at seeing my smile. Then he mouths, “That’s better.”

Damn. I like this feeling. It’s kind of strange and reminds me of the term ‘having butterflies in your stomach’. Marcus made me feel like this a few times, too. I tried to ignore it because Rhys George doesn’t do rainbows and butterflies. Rhys George does spreader bars and strap-ons!

When my phone vibrates with a message again, I assume it’s Simon and smile as I check the message. Oh, how wrong I am.

Fuck You Julie

Why haven’t you been to see Brian yet?

How can you treat him this way after he loved

and cared for you so much?

Visit him by the time this weekend is through,

or there will be consequences.

The blood in my veins freezes as I read the message from my old foster mum, Julie Bates.

Rhys George

I have no way of getting there!

Fuck You Julie

Not my problem, Patrice.

Just make it fucking happen!

Heat explodes through my body as my head spins, and the walls of this stuffy classroom feel like they are closing in on me. No one has called me Patrice since the night the cops grilled me for five hours when I was thirteen years old. I’d been so scared, and all I wanted was to go back home, but then Child Services took me and placed me in a group home. And once again, I was back in the system.

After I was dragged away from Brian, I defiantly refused to acknowledge the name on my birth certificate. I either ignored people who called me Patrice or corrected them. From that day, I referred to myself as Rhys. It’s one of the few good memories I have of my birth mum. She shortened Patrice to Rhys when I was little, and I found out later from a therapist that it was my way of taking back my control when others had decided who I could and couldn’t live with.

Seeing my real name isn’t the most significant issue here, though. For some reason, Julie is demanding that I visit Brian in prison. I haven’t seen him since that night four years ago. I’d thought he would’ve forgotten about me by now. And the sick, twisted part is, I don’t know if I’m happy or sad about it.

My therapists have spent so many hours trying to drum into my head that what Brian did was wrong. And a part of me knows they are right, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t see my time in Brian and Julie’s care as wrong. How could it be wrong when it felt so right?

When the bell goes, I fly out of my seat, ignoring Bell and Allister when they call out to me, and I stalk through the busy corridors, slamming my shoulders into anyone that doesn’t get out of my fucking way. I debate if I should go to English class or just bail on school altogether. I should probably leave. I feel like a loose cannon right now. The calm I had after recess has vanished, and in its place is pure need. It’s so fucked. Why does my body respond like this?

Standing in the doorway of my English class, I take one look inside and decide to go with plan B. It’s time to leave. I’m about to turn and haul arse out of there when a firm hand lands on my shoulder.

“Keep moving, George. You’re blocking the doorway.”

The warmth of Shaun’s hand seeps through my blazer and slightly eases my spiralling, causing my feet to move forward into the room, even though I want to leave. I should turn and run like a bat out of hell, yet I can’t. It’s like he has some sort of power over me, controlling me like a puppet, bending me to his will. And fuck, Kitty shakes her horny little arse, eager to please Casanova.

Traitor!

With his hand still on my shoulder, Shaun leads me to a row of joined tables up the back of the classroom and pulls out a seat. Like a fucking lust drunk zombie, I sit my arse in the chair, wishing like hell that everyone in this class would disappear so I could have some alone time with Bossi.

Dropping his books onto the table next to me, Shaun pulls out the chair, ready to sit, but before he can, Garrett pushes Shaun out of the way and slides his books over to the other table adjoining it, stealing his seat.

“What the fuck, man!” Shaun protests, glaring at the back of Garrett’s head, but Garrett ignores him, keeping his eyes trained on me with a raised brow.

I don’t give him anything, keeping my face neutral and hoping he can’t see my inner turmoil. Garrett Cole must be a fucking mind reader, though, because he sees straight through my fa?ade.

“What’s happened?” He whispers, leaning closer to me, ignoring Shaun as he huffs and throws himself down in the seat on the other side of Garrett.

My lips part to answer Garrett, but then I snap them shut.

What the fuck, Rhys?

Was I really about to tell him about Brian and Julie? Hardly anyone knows about them. Not even Tillie or Bell know much about my past. Cynthia and Will know. They knew before deciding to foster me. My therapist knows, obviously. But Garrett Cole is someone I hardly know. Why the fuck was I about to tell him about the messages I’ve been getting?

Shaking my head, I drag my eyes from Garrett’s piercing blue gaze, turning my focus on my book and laptop, getting things set up before Miss Fletcher starts the class.

“Rhys?” Garrett whispers in my ear, and my lids flutter shut as I take a moment to let his scent wrap around me. It’s clean and fresh with a hint of spice. It’s calming.

Without looking at him, I whisper my response.

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.” He hisses quietly, and I can’t stop my head from snapping in his direction, my eyes glaring.

“Excuse me?” My dark brows are high on my head as I take in his scrutinizing expression. Then he leans in close.

“Rhys, when I left you at the start of last period, you were calm. Sated. Now, you’re agitated.”

“I am not!” I snap back, gaining Shaun’s attention, his steel-grey eyes peeking at me as he leans back in his chair.

“Then why are you trembling?” To prove his point, Garrett takes my shaking hand in his under the table.

Shit!

I try to snatch my hand back, but Garrett holds tight.

“What’s happened?” He asks again, and I suddenly find it hard to breathe. I shake my head, eyeing Shaun, who is still watching me, and I turn back to my laptop.

The scrape of a chair draws my attention, and I watch as Shaun stands with his books and whispers something in Garrett’s ear. Garrett glares up at Bossi and shakes his head, but Shaun clenches his teeth, turning a deadly glare at his friend.

“Move, or I’ll fucking make you.”

Uh… ok. Angry Shaun is kinda hotter than regular Shaun. Didn’t know it was possible, yet here we are.

Grumbling under his breath, Garrett drops my hand and shifts over to the seat that Shaun had occupied. I have no idea what’s going on, but a moment later, Shaun drags the chair out that Garrett had been sitting on and pushes it behind him before leaning down and shifting my chair, with me still on it, into the spot that Garrett had been sitting. My mouth drops open because what the fuck is he doing? But then he slides my laptop and books over in front of me before dragging the spare chair into the now vacant spot. The next moment, Shaun drops his stuff on the table and sits down, leaving me with Shaun on one side and Garrett on the other. The cheeky smirk Shaun shoots me as he gets comfy is fucking panty-melting, and a slither of peace eases past my pent up anxiety.

“For fuck’s sake,” Garrett grumbles, and I reluctantly drag my eyes from Shaun, looking to my left to take in Garrett’s expression. He’s pissed, and it’s a reminder of what I’m doing to Marcus.

I kinda hate Garrett right now. How dare he call me out! I mean, I knew what I was doing wasn’t good, but I was quite happy pretending to be in denial about it all. I wish I could be different. I wish I could get what I need from someone else. Someone Marcus doesn’t know. And I did try, but I hadn’t counted on running into Bossi at the Feast night. It’s what changed things for me. Finally, getting a taste of Fox Pines Spanish Casanova opened the door I had tried really hard to keep shut. Add to that some alone time with Simon, and any control I’ve had has gone right out the window. I was controlled by my need, and nothing else mattered.

Miss Fletcher starts the class, drawing our attention, yet I hear nothing she says. I stare absently towards the front of the room, not taking anything in. All I can think about is how close Shaun is. How close Garrett is. Garrett told me to stay away from Shaun and Simon, yet he joined in with my finger bash in the bathroom earlier. He may not have touched me, and he may not have seen me, but that doesn’t mean he is innocent. Garrett was there in that room with me. I didn’t ask him to do that, yet he did. In the end, it was his demands, telling me what to do to myself, that took me to where I needed to go. He stood on the other side of that cubicle door, listening to my panting, my moaning, to whatever sound I made when I came on my own fingers.

A warm hand lands on my left leg, and I turn my gaze to Garrett with a quirked brow.

“Your leg is jigging around like a jumping jack.” His deep voice is quiet but loud enough that Shaun hears, and I feel him shift in his seat next to me before he rests his hand on my other leg.

I moan.

“Fuck.” Shaun and Garrett both whisper, and I relax back in my chair, loving their warmth seeping into my bare skin.

I fight really fucking hard not to spread my legs apart in an invitation to the both of them. I hold strong because their hands, their touch, is keeping me grounded. Yes, I’m still horny, but I feel less like I’m about to spiral out of control with the way the heat from their palms warms my skin.

When Garrett moves to lift his hand off my leg, I slap my hand over the top of his, keeping it pressed to my thigh as our eyes meet. I give the slightest shake of my head, hoping like hell that he understands my silent plea, and a moment later, his palm relaxes again, so I move my hand back to rest on the tabletop.

This is how I spend my English class, with Garrett’s warm palm on one leg and Shaun’s on the other. I still don’t hear a word Miss Fletcher says, but at least I find some sort of calm which temporarily eases my trembling.

Towards the end of the class, my phone vibrates with a message. I’m not sure if it’s worth checking or not. It could be from Julie again. I don’t think I can handle another message from her right now. Not while I’m so highly strung, but curiosity gets the better of me. So I flip my phone over on the table and, with relief, see that it isn’t a message from Julie.

Marcus Grady

I owe you an apology.

I’m so fucking sorry for what I said yesterday.

Marcus’ comment yesterday has been playing on repeat in my head.

“What vibe is that? Everyone’s welcome?”

He said it because he’s hurt, and he knows I don’t want to commit to a relationship with him. He knows I just want to sleep around and have no-strings fun. Unfortunately, he wants the opposite. His words shouldn’t have affected me the way they did. There’s just something that kills my light at the thought of Marcus thinking I’m the slut I actually am.

Rhys George

All g, Grady.

You didn’t say anything that isn’t true.

Marcus Grady

Don’t say that. It’s not true.

Rhys George

Marcus, I know you feel bad.

Of course, you do. You’re a great guy.

Kind and sweet.

But please don’t forget who I am.

It was pretty accurate, actually.

Everyone’s welcome…

You know I’d be into that. It’s no lie.

It takes a few minutes for Marcus to reply. He’s probably struggling with a response. I never came out and said to him that I like group sex, but I did throw hints a time or two. I had been hoping he’d be into it. It could have meant our time together could have been extended. But he only has eyes for me, and I’m pretty sure he’d kill any other guy or girl that tries to touch me.

Marcus Grady

Still, it was an arsehole thing to say.

Rhys George

Stop. It’s fine, Marcus.

Marcus Grady

I was wondering…

Could we maybe catch up tonight or after school?

To chat.

While Marcus says the word chat, what he’s really hoping is that we will hook up and fuck. I’d really like that, even though I know I shouldn’t. It would only confuse him. Make him think he has a chance. Make him think I’m committing myself to him when all I want is some Marcus sexy time. Because it really is sexy time. He is an all-consuming lover. It’s like he worships me with each encounter we have together. What girl doesn’t love that? I do, but shit, it confuses me. The feelings that guy draws out of me isn’t something I’m used to, which is exactly why I need to steer clear of him.

Rhys George

Sorry. Busy tonight.

Marcus Grady

How about tomorrow night?

He’s not going to give up. I don’t know what to do. How can I make him understand that what we had is over?

Rhys George

I’m busy tomorrow night too.

Sorry, gtg.

Like a coward, I jump out of the conversation and slip my phone back into my blazer just as the bell goes. The slight bit of calmness I felt before is slipping again. The combination of Marcus’ messages and the fact that Garrett and Shaun have removed their hands from my thighs to pack up their books has brought back my jitters.

“You ok, George?” Shaun asks, shooting me one of his sexy Spanish grins.

I don’t respond because if I say I’m ok, they will see straight through the lie, so I focus on gathering up my things before turning to see them both waiting for me.

I’m rooted on the spot as I take them both in. They could almost be brothers. Garrett is taller than Bossi, but they have similar brown curls, and their eyes are a shade of blue. Shaun’s are greyer than Garrett’s icy blues, though, but they both have similar sharp jawlines. Shaun’s face is shorter and a little rounder than Garrett’s longer heart shape. Their skin is notably different. Shaun’s skin glows with his Spanish heritage, whereas Garrett’s is paler, with a faint tan.

“I need you guys to do me a favour.” Damn, my voice lacks my usual confidence. I’m so fucking rattled today.

“Anything,” Shaun replies, still grinning at me.

Garrett doesn’t reply. He just waits quietly for me to continue.

“If I message Marcus and tell him to meet me somewhere, I need you guys to run interference.”

Shaun’s grin drops as he takes in my request, but Garrett speaks.

“You want us to stop him from coming to meet you?”

I nod. “Yep. No matter what I tell him to get his attention, don’t let him come to me. Do whatever it takes.”

Shaun frowns. “If you don’t want to do that, then why would you message him?”

“We can do that for you.” Garrett ignores Shaun, already understanding why I’m asking them to do this for me.

“Thanks.” I offer a black-lipped smile, but Shaun is still frowning.

“I’m confused.”

I sigh, wishing I didn’t have to make this admission. “I’m weak, Bossi. I’m trying to do right by Marcus and keep my distance because I can’t give him what he wants. But when he’s nice to me, I find it hard not to want to jump his bones, and I’m a horny bitch.” I raise a brow. “Ok?”

Shaun grins again. “Got it. We’ll make sure he doesn’t come to you. Whatever it takes.”