Page 27 of Rebellious

And it’s time to go.

“Too bad.” Without another word, I scoop her up wedding style and carry her down the hall.

Immediately she kicks her legs. “Put me down!” I tighten my hold.

“The more you struggle, the tighter I hold you,” I warn.

She laughs. “You act like that’s a bad thing.” She yanks up my shirt and I’m helpless to stop her. “Aspen.” I groan when she slips her hand under the fabric.

“You’re so hard.” A lazy grin forms as she pinches my nipple, swirling her finger around the sensitive skin until my eyes pinch shut. “I wonder if you’re hard everywhere?”

I don’t give her time to find out. I bolt for the bathroom, kicking the door closed, depositing her into the tub, and turning on the water. I can promise the water isn’t warm.

“Ah! What the fuck, Bennett?” She flails about. “What’s your problem?”

I turn off the water, and she glares, lying back against the porcelain. “My problem is that instead of talking to me, you’re out there getting drunk.”

I squat down and lean over the tub, brushing wet hair off her face.

She scoffs. “Talking to you is pointless when all you do is lie.”

This again. “What have I lied about?”

She reaches up and hides her face. “Just go away.”

I sit down on the floor, clarifying that I’m not going away. “What have I lied about?”

She stretches her fingers apart and opens one eye. “The transfer.”

Sighing, I settle in. “I didn’t lie to you about transferring schools.”

Her voice sounds small and pouty. “You lied to Drew, and that made him lie to Vee, which made her lie to me.”

I laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

“This is all your fault, Bennett.” She closes her eyes again.

“How is this my fault?”

Her chin quivers. “It’s your fault I feel this way.”

Every part of me wants to comfort her, but I don’t. Seeing my father tonight solidified that what I’m doing is the right thing. It may hurt now, but it would be much worse if we stopped following the rules.

“Aspen.” I am sorry. God, I wish I could take it back.

“Don’t.” She pushes my hand away. When did I reach for her?

“Don’t what?” I can barely get the words out.

“Don’t give me hope and take it away.” A lone tear drifts down her cheek. “I can handle the rules. I can handle the moods, but the hope…” She gazes up at me, her eyes pleading. “Don’t give me hope.”

I nod slowly and stand. “I’ll get you some clothes.”

“No.” She pushes up. “I’m not staying.”

I stop. “You’re drunk.”

She scoffs, getting to her feet, her wet clothes dripping. “And I live next door. I’ll be fine.”

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