Painkiller

“Any time. I just wish you’d go easy with the drinking and partying.” That was true, but on the other hand his wild side was an aphrodisiac.

Rebel was not the type of guy to be messed with, that was for sure, and everyone knew it in school. But whatever demons he was fighting, made him lose control.

“I know, Rosie,” he responded and gave her a smirk. “I needed a different painkiller, that’s for fucking sure.” And then he turned to his side and within a few moments she heard him sleeping once more, the sounds of his breathing deep and even.

Yeah, she was so lost in this boy.

I love you so much, Rebel, and it’s in a way that would probably have condemnation coming down on me. But none of that would matter if you loved me back.

Chapter Three

Two days later

Rosie grabbed her backpack off the kitchen table just as Rebel came walking in, bags under his eyes and his blond hair disheveled.

“Morning, sunshine,” he said in a husky voice, his focus on the floor despite the fact he addressed her.

“You look like crap,” she said, teasing.

He lifted his head and glared, but he was smiling. “I forgot I had some shitty report to finish for today.”

“Wait, you, Rebel Bronson, stayed up to do homework?” Rosie started laughing.

He flipped her off goodheartedly as he made his way over to the fridge. “Believe me, I wouldn’t have given a shit if it was done or not, but if I didn’t turn something readable in I would have failed the damn class.”

He grabbed the container of orange juice and braced himself up on the fridge door.

“As it is I’m barely scraping by in that class.” He opened the carton and drank straight from it. Her mother came in and lightly smacked him on the shoulder.

“Aidan, get a glass.” Her mother and his father never called him Rebel, which she knew he hated.

Rebel took one more long drink from it, closed the lid, and put it back in the fridge.

“Annabel, the jug is almost empty anyway,” Rebel said, addressing her mom. Despite the fact their parents had gotten married when she and Rebel were only six, she didn’t call Lawson “Dad”, and he didn’t call her mother “Mom”. Rebel glanced at Rosie, smirked, and gave her a wink.

If he only knew what that did to her, how it made her heart race and her panties become moist. She felt her cheeks get hot, and looked away, embarrassed by her reaction over something as simple as a damn wink. But this tingling on the back of her neck had her looking at Rebel again. He was staring at her, his brows pulled down low in confusion.

“You taking your sister to school today?” her mother asked Rebel.

“Annabel,” Rebel said in a disgusted tone. “Rosie isn’t my sister. We’ve told you that, damn.”

Her mom turned and faced them, a coffee cup in hand. She rolled her eyes. “I swear, you two and the weirdness you get from me using that terminology. “Are you taking Rosie to school?”

“Don’t I take her every day?” Rebel said and winked at Rosie again. “Come on, girl. Wouldn’t want your smart ass late.” He grinned and walked past her, and the scent of the cologne he wore struck her deep, and only in a good way.

She waved goodbye to her mom, figured Lawson had left to go to the office early since she hadn’t seen him, and followed Rebel out to his car. His cell went off and he stopped to answer it, but Rosie kept making her way to the car. She opened the passenger side door, but heard Rebel starting to speak on the phone.

“Nah, man. I think after this past weekend I’ll stay in.” He glanced at Rosie, and she felt embarrassed that she’d been caught listening to his conversation.

She got in the car, and even though the door was now shut she could still hear him speaking as he made his way toward the vehicle.

“Rowley, man, I got shitfaced last weekend.” A moment of silence passed, and Rebel opened the driver’s side door.

He sat down, and she heard his friend Rowley speaking on the other end, the words muffled.

“Yeah, I was fine when I left the party, but when I got home that was a different matter.” Rebel glanced at her again, but she didn’t hold his stare, and instead focused out the passenger side window. “Listen, I’ll talk to you at school.”

Rebel hung up, started the engine, and for a second the sound of his Mustang purring was almost serene.

“Hey,” he said, and she glanced over at him.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay? You’re acting weird.”

She knew she was. After she’d put him to bed Friday, Rebel had been gone the rest of the weekend for work. His job, consisting of doing under the table mechanic work for the local body shop, had him working a lot after school, and every other weekend.