I mean, the whole school didn’t shun him for no reason, right? Just because he had hand tattoos? There had to be something else.
Or maybe he was an outsider because he wanted to be. Maybe he didn’t care enough to try to fit in and be friends with everyone else. Just because he came from money didn’t mean he had to get along with everyone else at Midpark; he was obviously unlike anyone else here—which was probably why I was so drawn to him.
Oh, fuck. Either way, I was in trouble. I was in so much trouble.
Vaughn said nothing, which was his usual preference, I’d noticed. I coughed as I reached for my tiny water bottle and unscrewed the cap. “You have any plans for this weekend?” I asked, nearly choking when I realized that could be taken as a sign of interest, that I wanted to know if he had plans so I could ask him out or something.
Probably too lost in my own head. I needed to snap myself out of this funk. I mean, so what if I liked two guys? So what if I was going to a party with Archer tonight? Yes, we’d hooked up; yes, we might hook up again, but that didn’t mean I was dating him exclusively. I could have crushes. Crushes were no big deal.
“Family stuff,” Vaughn said, giving me a slow smirk, and I immediately caught myself wondering if he smirked at anyone else like that, or just me. “You going to be peeping through the windows?”
It was a good thing I didn’t have anything in my mouth right then, because I would’ve been too startled to swallow properly. “What?” I couldn’t sound surprised enough.
“You know, since you want to investigate my family,” he whispered, his expression unreadable. That was the thing about Vaughn, I never knew if he was joking or not. He didn’t do sarcasm well, but he had serious and grim down pat.
“I wouldn’t want to investigate if you’d just tell me what they did,” I muttered, hoping to get through to him. Of course, nothing I said now would change how he felt. We might’ve made out a bit in the restroom, but he was still miffed about me wanting to know more.
And that—that only made me more curious. The Scotts had to be hiding something.
“Leave it be, Jaz, because you’re not going to like what you find.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, I actually do have plans this weekend.” Technically, just tonight, but he didn’t need to know that. “I’m going to a party. Going to make some new friends, have fun, maybe drink a little,” I chattered away, hoping to get his attention, and I did. It was only when I had his full attention that I added, “Did I mention I’m going to the party with a guy? I didn’t, did I? Well, I am, and for your information, he’s super cute. Very attractive.”
Vaughn’s lips thinned into a line, and he outright glared at me, which made me feel pretty good.
“Blonde, too,” I murmured, sighing out the most over-the-top, girlish sigh I could muster up. As if I swooned right there. “I’ve always had a thing for blondes.” I said that last part purposefully because Vaughn had dark hair like me. “Blue eyes, too—”
His tattooed hands dropped his spork, and I watched as those fingers clenched into fists. He did not like hearing about that.
It was probably a bad idea to poke the bear, but I couldn’t stop myself. He teased me about spying on his family—which to me made sense, because clearly the Scotts and Ollie were into some weird shit—so I came back to give rise to his jealousy by telling him about my date with Archer, only I was smart enough to know to keep Archer’s name to myself. The way Vaughn looked right now, I bet he’d go start a fight with Archer without any hesitation whatsoever.
It felt wrong to hold such power over him…but also kind of right. Had to be careful, otherwise it might just go to my head.
“Am I making you jealous, Vaughn?” I baited him, already knowing his answer.
Or, I thought I did.
Vaughn’s eyebrows came together, and his gaze was slow to rise off the table. “You…” It sounded like he was having a rough time speaking, or maybe he just didn’t want to admit it. “You are.” He shook his head, repeating, “I’m…jealous?” His words ended sounding like a question, as if, not once in his life, he’d ever been jealous. As if this was something new to him.
Maybe it was. Maybe he’d never let himself care for any of the other girls around here—to which I’d say, why me? What made me so special? I wasn’t, truthfully. I was special only in that I didn’t come from Midpark, wasn’t born swaddled in green. Toss me into a normal school in a lower socioeconomic community, and I was absolutely normal.
Vaughn shook his head, muttering, “What are you doing to me, Jaz?” As if I was changing him.
I swallowed, even though nothing was in my mouth. “I’m not doing anything to you.” And that was the truth, at least…I thought so. Maybe, unconsciously, I was doing something to him, but I would argue that he was also doing the same to me. Affecting me. Changing me. Making me like a bad boy with tattoos.
And not only that. Making me like a bad boy with tattoos and making me crave his touch. His intense stare. Those hands…those hands could hold onto you with a fervent vengeance, make you forget every last thought in your head.
“You are,” he whispered. Around us, the world faded away; suddenly there was no party tonight. No Archer. No blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy. There was nothing but him, no one but him.
My lower gut burned, and I found myself with the need to cross my legs and clench my thighs. “I don’t mean to.”
“But you do.”
The way he said it, as if it was so plain and simple what I did to him, made my face heat up. I had to break eye contact with him as I said, “I’m sorry.” Wasn’t sure what the hell I was apologizing for, but once I said it, I couldn’t take it back.
Sorry for riling the beast? Sorry for making him jealous? Sorry for doing whatever it was that I did to him?
I wasn’t sorry. I wasn’t sorry at all.
Vaughn was quiet for a while, and even though I no longer stared into those black eyes, I knew his attention was fully on me. His tightened fingers relaxed, no longer fists on the table, and they spread apart on the table’s surface, drawing my focus.
Hate. Pain.
Was that what I would get from him? Was that what our future held if I chose him?
“Don’t be,” he finally said, causing my eyes to snap up to his. “I’m starting to like it.”
I had no idea how to take that. I did know one thing, though.
Vaughn said I was affecting him, but he didn’t see the whole picture, didn’t see how badly he affected me. He did. He affected me so much more than I wanted him to, and it seemed, despite me trying to put up walls, he and Archer had knocked them down effortlessly.
Hell. I was in so much trouble with those two.
Chapter Nineteen – Jaz
I was never a girl to obsess over an outfit. Clothes were clothes; as long as the important bits were covered and I didn’t look homeless, I didn’t really care what I looked like. But, for whatever reason—ahem, mainly Archer—I wanted to look better tonight than I usually did. I wanted to look pretty.
No, wait. Not just pretty.
I wanted to be fucking drop-dead gorgeous, a kind of beautiful that would stop a man in his tracks and make him rethink his entire life.