Page 153 of Dare To Break

“How’s school?” He finally changes the subject. Sadly, it’s to one I have just as little interest in discussing.

“Same old.” I unlock the door and step inside. My sculpture stands in the center with a sheet thrown over it.

“And Arabella? Is she settling in okay?”

“Doesn’t her mother know?”

He sighs down the line. “Don’t be like that, Eli.”

“She’s joined the cheer squad and is friends with the jocks. She even has a boyfriend. Moves fast, just like her mom.”

And at night, she sneaks off to the cemetery to perform unholy acts with her stepbrother … only she doesn’t know it’s him.

I wonder what my dad would say if I told him that.

I drag the sheet off the marble and step back to study it. My dad is still talking, this time about Thanksgiving plans.

“... so, if you can bring Arabella with you, that’ll save Elena an unnecessary trip. She’s having a lot of fun with Thanksgiving plans.”

“Wait. What? Go back. Bring Arabella with me?”

“She doesn’t have a car, Eli. I don’t even think she can drive. That’s something we can sort out once you’re home. We can get her an intensive driving course and have her license before Christmas. A car would be a nice Christmas gift, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t. And I doubt she’ll want to come home with me.”

“What did you do?”

“And there you go assuming I had to do anything.”

Oh, you know. I just made her life miserable, tongue-fucked her, then had her jerk me off, and now I just want to bend her over the nearest surface and bury my dick so far inside her, I leave an imprint. And now she’s blaming me for the one thing I didn’t do.

I pick up a tooth chisel. “I’ve got to go. I need to get to work on this piece for art.”

“You’ll check that Arabella has a ride home?”

“Sure. Speak to you later.” I cut the call before he can ask any more questions.

I navigate to the music app, start a playlist, then set my cell down and get to work.

***

I’m clearing my tools away when the cell in my bag buzzes. Dusting off my hands, I crouch and pull it out.

Kitten: I did it.

I’ve been trying hard all day not to think about Arabella and her appearance. Those jeans had hugged her ass and the pink shirt had brought out the blue of her eyes. My fingers had itched to touch her hair, run through it, feel its softness, and I’d spent the entire hour at breakfast staring at her.

Me: You did.

Kitten: Can we meet tonight?

Me: Have you forgotten how this works?

But I know I’m going to meet her. I send another text before she replies.

Me: Bench, an hour after curfew. Blindfold. Red or green?

Kitten: Green.

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