1
God, those hands.
Running over her body. Flitting across her breasts – he loved her breasts. Not overly large, but ample and perky on her slender frame.
She let out a deep sigh as the hands smoothed down her sides. She rolled her head forward and looked down her front. His mouth was against her stomach, all she could see were his riotous blond waves of hair. She managed to lift her own hand and gently comb her fingers through the strands.
I almost love his hair more than his hands. Almost.
She sighed again as one of those hands found its way between her legs. The sigh turned into a throaty moan, and she bit down on her bottom lip as two fingers gently probed inside her body. She let her eyes drift back shut and just concentrated on feeling.
Feeling everything. Every moment. Every breath. It was the best with him. The worst. The worst and the best. Always.
I want this to go on for always ...
SOMETHING SLAMMED INTO the back of Valentine O'Dell's head, startling her awake. She lifted her head just in time to narrowly avoid getting hit again – a backpack was dangling haphazardly in front of her face while the owner swung it about in an attempt to get it on.
“Excuse you,” she grumbled, rubbing at the back of her head before smoothing her hand around her top knot, making sure the backpack hadn't dislodged it.
“There is no excuse for you.”
Ah, that explains it.
Harper Kittering spun around, her backpack now firmly in place. She didn't look directly at Valentine – she never did, anymore – but it was clear who her comment was directed at; they were the only ones left in the classroom.
“I do love our little chats, Harper,” Val sighed as she climbed to her feet.
“You were snoring,” the blonde bombshell sneered. “I guess being a homewrecking slut is really exhausting, huh?”
“You have no idea,” Val laughed. “But for the millionth time, you and Ari were broken up, and he and I are no longer involved, so I still have no clue as to why you're angry at me.”
“I'm angry because if it weren't for you, he and I would be back together. I'm angry because I got overlooked for some piece of trash. I'm angry because you're disgusting and sitting next to you is bad enough – knowing we shared a guy, it makes me want to vomit.”
Valentine didn't have the energy for this; Harper had said it right, Val was exhausted. It had been a rough couple weeks.
A rough couple years.
“If it makes you feel better, it makes me want to puke, too. Did you change your mind about working together?”
Harper was the cause of many of Valentine's problems. They'd been assigned to work on a very important class project together – that was how Valentine had met Harper's ex, Aaron Sharapov. They'd been working at Harper's apartment when Ari had shown up, though unbeknownst to everyone, he'd shown up in order to break up with Harper.
Mistake number one – meeting Ari.
Harper had never been a very good partner. She was incredibly snobby, her father was some big, important politician there in Chicago, the deputy mayor or something or other. Her and Ari's family had been friends for years, their relationship had been planned since infancy. Harper hadn't handled the break up very well.
Mistake number two – not realizing what a crazy bitch she is.
By the time Harper had found out that her classmate and partner was boning her ex-boyfriend, Valentine and Ari had ended. Badly. But that hadn't mattered to Harper. She was angry and finally had someone to direct all her anger at, and she hadn't let up for one moment. She would make Valentine pay for the end of her relationship, regardless of the fact that Val had almost nothing to do with it.
It was mostly little things. Spreading rumors and lies at the design school they both attended. Making fun of her with her little friends. Shoving her in the halls, knocking her paperwork out of her hands, hitting her with her bag. There had even been a somewhat serious incident in the school parking lot – a white Mercedes, an SUV type of vehicle, had swerved dangerously close to Valentine when she'd been on her bike. She'd fallen over and rolled down into a shallow ditch. She hadn't seen the driver, but she'd heard a very familiar cackle as it had driven away.
How long can this go on for? Surely she'll lose interest at some point.
Of course Valentine could fight back. Tell a teacher or file some sort of report, something. But in all honesty, she was scared. Between problems with her grandmother and working all her crazy hours, Val was already on academic probation – if she got a bad grade in this management class, she could kiss school goodbye. Her grade in the class was almost entirely dependent on her group project with Harper. So as awful as the woman was, Valentine couldn't afford to get rid of her. Not yet.
“You will never set foot in my apartment again. I had the locks changed,” Harper informed her. Valentine barked out a laugh.
“Which am I, Harper – a slut, or a thief?”
“The two aren't mutually exclusive.”
Touché. I'm almost impressed.
”Well, I have no plans to rob you any time soon. We could meet at my -”
“Do not even suggest it. I probably have lice just from sitting so close to you.”
“Okay, we could meet at Starbucks. A pizza joint. The library. The park. Anywhere. I can't do this whole project on my own,” Val said. Harper smirked at her.
“I guess you should've thought about that before you fucked my boyfriend. Bye.”
And with that, Harper whirled around, flicking her hair over her should as she went. The blonde strands whipped across Valentine's face.
“You need this grade, too, Harper!” she called after her.
“You need this grade,” Harper snapped, pausing just long enough to lean back in the doorway. “I, on the other hand, actually have a father to help take care of things like that for me.”
As she stomped away, Valentine stared after her. Had Harper just really made a crack about Val's dead dad? Incredible.
She didn't have time to dwell on it, though. She had to be at the club by nine, and it was already five. That was barely enough time to bike across town to visit her grandmother before having to head home to get ready for work. So she pushed Harper out of her mind, and she quickly made her way down to her rickety bike.
Twenty minutes later, she was pulling her helmet off and walking down a different hallway. Even though she'd been visiting almost every day for over a week now, it still felt strange to her. Alien. The smell of antiseptic. The loud voices. She didn't think she'd ever get used to it.
Probably because I shouldn't have to. I shouldn't be here at all.
Barely a week after her grandmother had been admitted to the hospital for her second stroke, Valentine had received a call from her doctor. Apparently, the Illinois Department of Human Services was accusing her of elder neglect. Or really, someone had accused her of it, and now IDHS was investigating her.
It had been a devastating blow. She'd still been reeling from the implosion of her relationship with Ari – then to be denied any sort of relationship with her grandmother? It had almost broken her. While the investigation was ongoing, Gam-Gam wasn't allowed to go home. So she'd been transferred to a skilled nursing facility.