Page 4 of Dirty Love

Kade would never laugh at me.

Not for that.

Forcing myself to smile at my own reflection, I pocket my phone and then walk out to the hall, accidentally bumping right into Arianna Summers on my way to Kade’s room. Her cheeks are stained with black streaks of mascara, last night’s lipstick smeared all over her mouth, her blonde hair a tangled mess…

I hate her.

She sneers like she heard me and I sidestep out of the way, shoving my hands into my pockets while I watch her disappear around the corner. She may or may not run into our dad on her way out of here, but I know he won’t lay a hand on her, wouldn’t dare jeopardize his upstanding member of the community image for a taste of the it girl of Bayford High.

My brother’s emo music fills my ears and I walk along to his bedroom, leaning my shoulder against the doorframe while I wait for him to notice me. He’s sitting down on the edge of his bed with his eyes on his phone, his elbows resting on a muscular pair of thighs that make mine look like chicken legs. I’m not that skinny, but I’m not Kade Rivers, either. He’s a whole ass head taller than me, bigger and harder and meaner.

Like now, for example, he knows I’m standing here like a loyal puppy waiting for his master to say come, but he pays me no attention because he’s an asshole.

It’s one of the things I love most about him.

His dark brown hair hangs over his piercing blue eyes and he rakes his fingers through it, his other thumb still scrolling away on the screen in his hand. Losing patience, I make a point to clear my throat and he hides a cocky little grin, finally lifting his head to look at me from beneath his lashes.

“What?”

“I saw Arianna just now,” I inform him. “You made her cry.”

He laughs at that, but it’s not a nice laugh. “And?”

“Did you even get her off after?”

“No,” he answers, tossing his phone down on the bed. “She ran away from me before I could offer.”

I snort and push myself off the doorframe, not missing the way his body tenses up with every step I take towards him. I smirk to myself and pick up the phone, feigning innocence while I scroll through his playlist. I choose Mind Games by Sickick and drop down on his bed beside him, leaning back against his headboard with my arm folded behind my head. He gives me a slow, deliberate once over and then looks away, standing up to grab some clothes from the free standing closet in the corner. He’s still wearing nothing but his boxers, unashamed of the small scars and bruises covering his tanned back—some new and some not so new, some from our dad and some not.

“Are you getting back together with her?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know.”

“How can you not know?” I roll my eyes, hating the fact that his sheets still smell like her disgustingly sweet perfume. “You don’t even like her.”

“Nicky…” he warns, and even though he’s got his back to me, I can tell he’s speaking through his teeth.

“What?”

“Quit talking about fucking Arianna,” he orders, still avoiding my eyes as he moves for the shower. “I’ll be five minutes. Stay there and wait for me to get out.”

“Whatever you say, Daddy,” I mutter, barely even flinching when he stops mid step and fists the collar of my hoodie, ripping me off the bed to shove me back against the wall next to his nightstand.

His actions would scare the ever loving shit out of anybody else, but I just lift my chin like the brat he calls me, grinning with my tongue pulled between my teeth, my heart racing with adrenaline.

I knew this was coming.

I was waiting for it—looking forward to it, even.

I know he wanted to strangle me in the bathroom for acting up the way I did before, and I know for a fact he was only hard back there because of me. I saw the way he tried to hide it behind his hand when he walked out. Watching me in the shower made him hot, had him running back to his ex-girlfriend to let her finish him off, the stupid whore.

I really do hate that girl.

His eyes bounce between mine and he glares, looking down at me with his hand wrapped around my throat, his fingertips digging into my flesh. “I’m not him,” he says slowly, still hung up on the Daddy thing, I’m guessing.

I’m aware my current situation should say otherwise, but I don’t call him out on it. Partly because I know he’d never hurt me like that, but mostly because I like him like this—his undivided attention on me and only me, his huge body pinning mine, his mouth so close I can practically taste him… it makes me sick but it also makes me fucking crazy.

“I never said you were.”

---