Page 32 of Our Secrets and Scars

He frowns. “But you have class.”

“So? I’ll skip.”

And God knows, do I deserve to take the day off.

Isla spent the entire weekend with her new girlfriend, so I buried myself nose-deep in assignments and romance novels to pass the time. On Saturday night, I made the grave error of single-handedly drinking an entire bottle of wine that I found in Isla’s mini fridge and ended up reading through all of Fletcher’s old letters until I was a mess of strangled sobs and heartache.

A woman with a broken heart is a dangerous thing.

And right now, I can’t think of anything better than spending the morning flirting with Holden and pushing the boundaries between us.

Because I’m so sick of rejection, of feeling like I’m nothing to everyone. For once, I want to feelwanted. I want to feel like I’m something. And fuck, if I’m not determined to achieve that with Holden today, his feelings for another woman be damned.

“Really?” He raises an amused brow. “But you’re always so well behaved.”

“Then you don’t know me as well as you thought.” I lick my lips, rejoicing in how he traces the movement, and tilt my head to one side with a gentle smirk. “I’ve never claimed to be a good girl.”

His eyes flare. He tries to hide his reaction to me, but I see it. The way his pupils dilate, how he can’t stop looking at my mouth. How his hands clench into fists at his sides whenever I close my lips around the straw in my drink and suck with hollowed cheeks.

“Well then, little one, what are you waiting for?” He grins. “Show me how bad you can be.”

Seven

Kinsley

I’vegotmyfeeton the dash of Holden’s truck as we drive through town with the speakers blaring throwback soft rock hits. I watch him with a smile as he beats his thumbs against the top of the steering wheel in perfect rhythm, and he laughs when I hold my arm out the open window and try to catch fistfuls of the wind in my hand.

It’s something Bexley and I used to do when we were kids and our parents took us on long drives. We’d sit with our legs spread across the seats, the windows down, and the air twisting between us like our own little hurricane in the back of the car.

It’s not the same without her, and I could probably pretend she’s with me if I screwed my eyes shut tight enough and blocked out the sound of Bryan Adams’ “Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman.”

I don’t though.

Because this moment isn’t about my sister, it’s about the man in the seat beside me. The one with his arm resting on the center console as he rubs his fingers together, and somehow, I know his fidgeting is because he wants to hold my thigh as he drives but is worried about leading me on.

I don’t care about that though, not today. I’m tired of holding myself back because of our feelings for other people and my self-consciousness about the scars on my face. So, I lean over and take his hand, dropping it into my lap and shuddering at the warmth of his skin against my bare thigh.

I’ve always dressed preppy, but today, exceptionally so. In my pink plaid skirt and knee-high socks, I look like I’ve walked straight off the set ofCluelessor a horny schoolgirl porno.

Holden likes it though. I can tell by the way his jaw clenches the moment his skin meets mine, how his fingers dig into the soft flesh of my thigh and how his breath hisses through his teeth. He tries hard to fight it, but I know that he wants me. And I’m determined to exploit that today.

He told me to be bad, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

“So, where are you taking me?” I ask, biting my lip as I look at him.

He clears his throat. “It’s a surprise.”

“Okay, fine.” I laugh lightly. “Keep your secrets.”

The music changes, and the only song I know from Big Red Machine begins to play, the one they did with Taylor Swift. I sing the lyrics, though I only know the chorus, and I carry on even when Holden laughs whenever I hit a note wrong.

You wouldn’t be the first renegade to need somebody.

I ignore the way the words tug at something buried deep in my soul, how it calls to the loneliness I’ve pretended doesn’t exist since even before the accident. Because I’m not allowing that part of myself to ruin my day today. I’m supposed to be havingfun.Not thinking about the way my skin always feels cold because I have no one to hold me or how empty my heart is now Fletcher’s no longer filling it up with his letters.

So, I skip the song. And when everything that comes on afterward is just as depressing as the last, I connect my phone to the Bluetooth and blast Ariana Grande’s “Dangerous Woman” instead. Holden rolls his eyes.

“I know you’ve got this whole intimidating bad boy thing going on, but don’t pretend you’re not an Ari fan.Everyoneis an Ari fan.”

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