Secrets We Keep (Thistle Cove 1)

All I want is to do this forever.

That’s how we spend the first football game of our senior year, under the bleachers, exploring one another. But most of all, we’re both just seeking something greater than fear.

26

Ozzy

Her lips are puffy. Her mouth red. Her smile adorable.

God, this girl is cute.

Like, I always knew she was cute. Always. But now that I’ve tasted her, felt her, I never want to let her go.

So I don’t. I latch my hand to hers and walk through the crowd. The game is over. We’d spent the entire time under the bleachers. I’d still be under there with her if I wasn’t terrified of getting a severe case of blue balls from the way her body pressed into mine, or being found by Mr. Mitchell, the custodian, long after everyone left.

She checks her phone.

“Finn texted. Said Ezra’s having a party at his house and that we should go.”

“Do you want to go?” I ask.

“Yeah, maybe.” She brushes a piece of hair out of her eyes and damn, I want to kiss her again. “It could be fun.”

“Yeah, sure. Uh, you didn’t drive, did you?”

“No, but maybe we could go wait by Ezra’s car? He’d drive us, don’t you think?”

There’s part of me that wants to just say no. Fuck this party because I’ve seen the way Finn’s looking at Kenley, and the way Ezra watches her. I finally got this girl to pay attention to me—to kiss me—and I want her all to myself. But I also know there’s something bigger at play here. The way we’ve all been brought together again by Rose’s disappearance. It’s more than me. It’s more than Rose. It’s about the four of us, and I can’t let my selfish needs come in between that.

“Yeah,” I say, pulling her hand to my mouth and kissing the back of it. “After this insane week? I think a party sounds like a pretty good idea.”

Ezra’s dad is rich.

Like, really rich.

You know the signs on park benches advertising lawyers that are dying to sue the pants off people? That’s Ezra Baxter, Sr. He’s known for representing victims of car accidents and worker’s compensation claims, but he made a ton of money in some case against MegaMart a few years ago. Like millions.

Since that windfall, Mr. Baxter travels all the time to conferences teaching other lawyers how to go for the big money. The original Mrs. Baxter, Ezra’s mom, moved to New York after the divorce. His dad instantly became the most wanted bachelor, but there’s a lack of young, beautiful, model-like women in a town like Thistle Cove, so it sounds like most his hook-ups are on the road. All of this means Ezra is left at home alone—a lot. The drug stuff started after his mom left. After a series of arrests, he got cut from the football team, spent more time in detention than anywhere else, and slipped into a bad boy persona pretty easily.

The one thing everyone likes about Ezra? His parties are legendary.

Or so I’ve heard. I’ve never been invited to one before.

I get a lot of stares from the regulars at Ezra’s parties. Whispers. Even a few smirking laughs. Why is Ozzy Drake here? With Kenley Keene? I should feel uncomfortable, but I don’t. Things have shifted dramatically for me—us—over the last week. Secrets have a way of doing that.

“Want a drink?” I ask Kenley, who’s looking a little overwhelmed.

“Yes, please.”

I take her hand, my favorite thing, well, beside her mouth, (or if we’re being honest, her perfect tits, although her ass his hot, too) and lead us across the living room. The bar is outside—a fancy setup with a stone fireplace and comfortable seating. There’s a keg and some kind of blue punch. Marcus Roland is currently drinking out of the keg nozzle. Well, drinking is an overstatement. Most of it is spilling down his face and onto the ground. I grab two cups and ladle in punch.

“Have you ever been here before?” I ask her as we sit on the hearth before the roaring fire.

“Not since his dad made all that money and they remodeled.”

“Me either.”

“I think the last time I went to Ezra’s house was in the sixth grade. He had a boy-girl birthday party. You were there, right?”