Page 51 of Unspoken Truths

Snorting, I shake my head. Man, she’s feisty, and I love it.

“I can only imagine their faces if you called them that,” I say, grinning. My cheeks are going to hurt if I smile much more. “The guys all have baggage, and they’ve decided you’re the enemy. I don’t agree with them at all. You’re just a girl, trying to get an education. In their minds, part of their job is to keep clear of trash.”

“And I’m the trailer trash,” Rachelle sighs. “Wonderful. Elijah told me to go smoke crack at the poor public school. I laughed in his face. The highlight of our conversation was frying his balls.”

“It’s a good reminder for him to mind his manners," I say sagely, not able to hide my smile. “Crack doesn’t seem like a gateway drug. He’s an idiot who wants your attention. Elijah doesn’t want to be in the shadows anymore, which means his feelings are hurt.”

“I know who he is,” she grumbles. “I figured his head was big enough without admitting that.”

“Their egos are inflated, but they’re also kind of lonely for a bunch of spoiled kids,” I sigh. “It’s complicated. Their stunt with the newspaper I think was to get you to distrust me, and it almost worked. So now, they’re pushing harder.”

“Does this have anything to do with the fact that you wanted to talk in the middle of the woods?” she asks, smirking.

We’re at Mt. Tabor Park, and it’s hard to believe that it’s so close to the school. It’s pretty empty right now, the perfect place to chat as I tug her toward one of the trails. The views are gorgeous here, too.

“Yes,” I reply, nodding. “So you know the guys and I all grew up together. Around middle school, I developed a crush on Ignacio.”

“I don’t doubt it. The guy has muscles where I didn’t know they existed,” she says. “Ignacio walks around shirtless a lot, and I’m not blind, Liliana.”

“Good, then we can have really good eyesight together,” I say, giggling. “Unfortunately, Ignacio knows exactly how pretty he is.”

“Is he hitting on you?” Rachelle asks, brow raised. She’s smart, something I adore about her.

“I guess stalking me in the hallway after I fell asleep in your bed last week counts as that,” I say. “I didn’t want to wake you up, but my dad was blowing up my texts. I locked your door behind me, and there was Nacio, shirtless with really low slung joggers on.”

“What time did you leave?” she asks. “I’m imagining it was late, so was he just waiting for you to come out?”

“My car was in the driveway, so he’d know I was still at the house,” I respond. “He was leaning against the wall, joked that I was doing the walk of shame.”

“Very original,” she huffs, though it could be the incline as I take her to a spot I like that overlooks the city.

“Anyway, Ignacio crowded my space, pushed me against the wall, and told me he’d fuck me as long as I was loud enough to wake you up,” I say quickly, wincing as I realize it sounds even worse out loud.

“That asshole!” she yells, pulling away from me to throw up her hands. “Why are they all such filthy dickheads?”

“Probably because of the appendage that swings between their legs,” I say drolly. “I may have accidentally seen Nacio’s dick.”

“Um, okay,” she says, looking confused.

“I was pissed at him,” I explain. “Annoyed that he was trying to use any kind of attraction I have for him to fuck with what you and I have. So, I pulled his joggers down while I grabbed my knife, making him think he had me wrapped around his finger.”

“In a perfect world, he wouldn’t be such a jerk,” she mutters, her hand finding mine again as we walk.

In a perfect world, we could both have him and each other.

“So, what happened next?” Rachelle asks.

“I made sure he could feel my blade against the base of his cock,” I say flippantly. “I also cut him a little, to show I wouldn’t hesitate to slice it off and ruin any chances of having babies.”

“Well done,” she says, lips pressed together to hold back her smile.

“We fought a little bit, while he picked me up when I moved my knife to his throat instead,” I say, shrugging. “That’s all that happened, even though I have to admit I was a little turned on by the fucker.”

“It was the muscles and big dick, huh?” she teases me, chuckling.

“Unfortunately,” I admit, smiling. “They’re not going to stop pushing, finding a way to make the other one of us think we’re cheating.”

“Is that why this conversation is happening?” she asks. “You’re putting everything on the table, so to speak?”

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