These Thorn Kisses (St. Mary’s Rebels 3) - Page 151

As soon as I finish, he comes for me again. This time for my mouth, and he kisses me.

And even though I know I shouldn’t kiss him — he lied to me; he’s been torturing me, torturing himself for the past three weeks — I do.

I kiss him back.

I kiss him back to show him that I love him and the only thing I want from him is him.

Something I didn’t even think was possible.

Something that even I didn’t dare dream about.

A dream about us.

Together.

So I kiss him back and tell him that now I will. I will dream of us and he needs to dream about us too.

But then a voice comes and splinters the moment. The same voice that made everything fall apart on the night of my dad’s birthday party.

“Con?”

We break apart then, our mouths coming off of each other.

And just like that night, I don’t know what to do. I’m frozen. I’m useless.

Not him though.

He presses the back of my head and tucks me in his chest, hiding my face, as Helen takes in the scene.

A girl wrapped around Conrad and an explosion of colors and paints.

Graffiti on his truck.

And when she makes out what the graffiti is — a girl in a yellow ball gown with tons of jewelry — and that’s the girl who’s wrapped around Conrad, her voice is even higher than before. “Bronwyn?”

And just like that, I think, everything ends before it has even had the chance to begin.

I’m panicking.

And this time there is a reason to panic.

This time a tragedy has definitely struck. The sky has absolutely fallen.

Because someone saw us.

Someone being Helen. The worst person who could’ve seen us.

And it was out in the open.

On a dark and sleepy street with nowhere to hide. Not a door or a wall to take cover behind like we did at my dad’s party.

And once I got out of my frozen mode, I wanted to say something to Helen.

I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t what it looked like. But then that would’ve been completely ridiculous because we were wrapped around each other. We were kissing each other. I was kissing him and he was kissing me and we were so engrossed in it that we never noticed the world.

We never noticed someone walking up to us.

Someone who got there in a car.

Which I know now.

Because as soon as she saw us, she recognized who it was in his arms, she understood what was happening, she spun around and strode over to her car. She opened the door, got in and slammed it shut, driving away. And all of that was so loud, so booming that it’s a wonder that we never heard her. That we never paid attention.

But we were paying attention then.

As soon as she drove away, I told Conrad that we needed to go after her. That we needed to stop her and explain things to her. I told him that I’d tell her that it was me and that I was the one who snuck out of school in the middle of the night. So I was the one breaking all the rules and so I should be the one punished.

But he put a stop to it.

He put a stop to all that.

And he said, “Trust me.”

That’s all.

The exact words he told me on the night of the party, and then he kissed me on the forehead and drove me back to St. Mary’s. And while dropping me off when I still wouldn’t let it go, he said, with all the confidence and assurances in his voice, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And now it’s tomorrow.

It’s Monday morning and school is on.

I’m in the cafeteria, pretending to eat, to appease my friends so they don’t get too worried about me — I haven’t shared with them what happened last night — when all I want to do is throw up. When all I want to do is run out of here and go up to his office. And if he’s not there yet, then look for him around campus.

But I’m afraid.

I’m afraid that I might make things worse. By going to him now.

By being close to him and being seen together with him.

Because what if Helen has already told everyone, the teachers, the principal? What if she’s already reported us and what she saw? And if so, then me trying to talk to Conrad would be a disaster.

Even more of a disaster.

Isn’t it?

They could all point fingers at us and say, look how close they are. How she looks at him and how he looks at her. It must be true.

So if that’s the case, if Helen has already reported us, then maybe instead of looking for Conrad, I should look for Principal Carlisle. Maybe I should go to her directly and tell her that it was my fault and take all the blame on myself. I could tell her that I tried to seduce him. Me. I forced him to kiss me and that I wouldn’t leave him alone.

Tags: Saffron A. Kent St. Mary's Rebels Romance
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