Hostile(10)

I snort. “I’d be fine with less attention than I already get. My stopping to pick your soggy ass up has nothing to do with my parents.” I can barely see through the rain, despite the windshield wiper on high, so I drive slowly down the street in front of our school. “Where are we going, by the way?”

“I was walking to my place to grab my car, but I’m already late . . .”

“Late for what?”

I notice he’s chewing on his bottom lip, clearly conflicted about telling me where he’s headed. “The mission downtown.” My brows must furrow in confusion because I can feel his eyes on me now. “I volunteer there, and I’m fucking late. So, if you can take me there, awesome. If not, take me to my place, so I can get my car.”

I turn toward the street that will take us to the interstate to get downtown more quickly. “I don’t mind. Just surprised. That’s all.”

“Why?” His voice is gravelly and deep, a rumble that goes straight to my dick, and I have to adjust in my seat, hoping he won’t see. I’m not entirely convinced he won’t hit me if he found out the kind of thoughts I’ve had about him over the past three years of high school.

“Volunteering after school. It seems like a lot.”

“It’s not,” he grunts and doesn’t offer any further explanation, just like I expected from him.

When we arrive at the city mission, the rain still hasn’t let up, but he quickly ditches my car and me in the parking spot and darts up to the brick building. It’s cute he thinks I’ll let this go.

I shut off my car, climb out, and lock it before I follow him inside, much to his disapproval. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growls, his lithe body nearly pressed against mine as he cages me against the wall with his finger in my face.

“Volunteering.” I give him a lazy grin.

Anger vibrates through him as he stares at me like he can’t quite figure me out. He’s not the first. But just as he’s about to say something else, two kids—I’d say they’re around eleven or twelve—walk up to us excitedly. “Rhett! You’re here!”

He pushes away from me, his focus on the boys with ripped jeans and muddy tennis shoes. They’re wearing t-shirts a size too big for their little bodies, but they’re both grinning at Rhett like he’s their god.

“Hey, guys.” Rhett clears his throat as if he’s trying to chase away his bad attitude, if only for these kids with the bright, hope-filled eyes. “You didn’t think I’d miss this, did you?”

They grin, big and bright, and I swear it’s the first time I’ve witnessed Rhett smiling too. It’s almost too much to process.

He jerks his head toward the double doors. “Let’s go inside.”

They happily run through the doors after pulling them open, but Rhett turns back to me, his smile gone, and a deadly cold stare replacing it. “I don’t know what your game is here, and I don’t really care. If you do anything to hurt these kids, I will end you.”

I believe him. I swear I take the threat seriously, but my body thrums with something else. Something forbidden. Something I’m not sure he won’t hurt me for. But I don’t care.

There’s no denying my insane attraction to this painfully elusive, beautiful boy.

And no part of me wants to fight it.





EIGHT





Why the hell won’t he leave? I’ve noticed Grayson over the years. The guy is hard to miss. The larger-than-life, golden boy. Always surrounded by a big group of rowdy friends. Always has a girl on his arm or his lap, dying for his attention. The teachers love him. He’s a star football, baseball, every-fucking-ball player at our school.

Everyone knows Grayson.

But I didn’t realize what a pain in the ass he was. He wouldn’t let up, and if I wasn’t already so late because of the damn rain—I wouldn’t have given in and gotten into his fancy car.

But I couldn’t miss this.

These days spent here at the mission. They keep me sane.

Oddly enough, they tie me back to the life I should loathe and want no part of. But when kids like Max and Ian look at me with something resembling hope in their eyes, I feel as close to whole as I ever have.

I started volunteering here last year. The kids are all foster kids, and this is an after-school program, basically just making sure they get food and some sort of safe space to go before they go back to their broken foster homes. Because everyone knows the system is broken and totally flawed, but somehow, this is as close as we can get to a solution.

After shedding our soaking wet jackets and leaving them on a hook by the door, Grayson—the annoying prick—doesn’t waste any time and sits down next to Laney, a shy girl, and immediately gets her to engage.

This. Motherfucker.

I can barely get two words out of that girl, and I think he’s already gotten a smile from her. I shake my head and try to ignore him while I take a seat next to Max, grabbing some shitty colored pencils provided by donations.

When I get my first real paycheck from the tattoo parlor, I’m going to buy these kids some real art supplies. Max doesn’t care though. He grabs several colors and starts outlining something I’m not quite sure of yet. The kid is only a few years younger than me. At thirteen, he reminds me so damn much of myself when I was in his shoes. And he has some serious talent.