Love Me(The Keatyn Chronicles #4)

I don’t go to the nurse’s office. I toss my pass into the trash and race to the field house.

I change into my workout clothes and then go to town on the punching bag. I never promised not to pretend punch his head. Besides, probably better to pretend punch it than punch it for real.

I’m kicking the shit out of the bag when Cooper Steele saunters in. “You’re doing that wrong.”

“What do you mean, I’m doing it wrong?”

He walks behind me, reaches over my shoulders, grabs my hands, and pulls them back in toward my waist. When he does this, I’m thrust back against his rock solid body.

He turns my hands over so that my palms are facing upward. Then he pushes them forward and flips them as they reach the bag.

“That’s how to throw a proper punch. Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“I was feeling sick?”

“Looks to me like you’re feeling pissed.”

I sigh. “That too.”

He knits his brows together, thinking. “Come into my office. We need to get to know each other better.”

“That’s pretty forward of you, Mr. Steele,” I say with a smirk.

He gives me a coach’s smack on the butt. “Get going.”

Is it bad that I totally just pictured Cooper Steele tying me to a bed and spanking me?

Okay, Keatyn. That’s it. No more reading naughty romances on your phone during school.

He grabs me by the arm and drags me toward his office.

And I can’t help it.

I like it.

I have a stupid grin on my face when Whitney comes around the corner. “Uh, Mr. Steele, I was just coming to see you. We have a meeting to discuss the competitions for this weekend’s Greek events.”

“It’ll have to wait. What was your name again?”

Whitney looks startled. Shocked, really. Isn’t every male on the planet supposed to know her name?

“Um, it’s Whitney. Whitney Clarke. I’m on the Social Committee. We have an appointment.”

Cooper flashes a smirk at her and looks down at his hand, which is still firmly wrapped around my arm. “As you can see, Miss Clarke, I’ve got my hands full.”

He drags me into his office, shuts the door on Whitney’s face, and then turns the blinds on the door’s windows.

I try not to giggle.

“Sit up here on the desk,” he tells me loudly. When I don’t move, he picks me up and sets me on the desk.

I am almost positive that Whitney is still outside his door. I can only imagine what she’s thinking.

Of course, I’m totally thinking the same thing.

I so should have asked for a hot bodyguard sooner.

He paces and speaks. “Did Garrett teach you self defense?”

“Um, not really.”

“Why not?”

“Didn’t he brief you on the situation?”

Cooper takes a step back, like I just offended him. “Of course, I’ve been fully briefed on the situation.”

“But you don’t understand how fast it all happened, maybe?”

“Tell me,” he says as he takes a seat.

I tell him the story. The whole drawn-out story. He just keeps nodding.

“Basically, we talked about safety and fear. He gave me some pepper spray, which I try to keep in my purse. I wear my locket most of the time. And I’ve gotten away from Vincent three times now. So, you know, I must be doing something right.”

“Stand up,” he commands.

What is it with him and the two-word sentences? I stay sitting on the desk. I’ll show him. “Make me.”

Cooper strikes faster than a cobra. He grabs me, twists my arms behind my back, and pushes my face down into the desk. I’m horrified by how quickly I was overcome.

“Is this what you want? Is this the position you want to be in?”

There’s a knock on his door. “Mr. Steele,” Whitney says. “I really need to confer with you.”

“Just a moment,” he says, still holding me down on the desk. “Is this the position you want to be in?” he asks again.

“No,” I whimper.

“Then you need to do what I say.”

“Yes,” I say as he pushes harder.

“Get to class. I’ll go through the school’s security and figure out a plan for you.”

“Um, okay.”

I walk out of his office door, suddenly feeling like I can’t breathe.

I run outside and down to the track, where I sprint until I can’t sprint anymore.

Then I sit down on the ground and cry.

Because I just realized that next time I probably won’t get away.



Are you effing kidding me?

6:10pm



“So, we’re alone. Out on the highway. Anything come to mind?”

I’m in the car with Dawson. He’s got the radio turned up and his hand on my knee.

I think for a second. And, well, no. Nothing comes to mind. “Uh?”

“I’m driving. You maybe wanna do something a little naughty?”

Then I get it.

He wants road head. Are you effing kidding me?

“That sounds very romantic.”

But I don’t do anything to him. Instead, I look out the passenger-side window and fight back tears.

I don’t win the fight.

I turn to face him. “Hey, I’m not feeling well. Will you take me back to school, please?”

He sees my tears. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Oh, wait. Did you think I was serious? I was just joking.”

“No, you weren’t. You didn’t open the car door for me. You didn’t make any plans for tonight. And your idea of romance is asking me to blow you while you drive. This isn’t gonna work.”

He lets out a big sigh, pulls off the side of the road, and turns to me. “Keatie, I was just joking. Can we not joke and have fun anymore? We had sex the other night. It was amazing, like always.”

“I’m sorry. But I shouldn’t have. It’s not fair to you.”

“How is it not fair to me?”

“Because it’s giving you the wrong impression. It makes you think things are okay with our relationship when they’re not.”

“I’ve done stuff for you. Homecoming. The key necklace.”

“I know you have. We just never dated. And that’s not your fault. I never gave you the chance to woo me. We slept together fast. Then thought we were in love. Then . . . Well, then it was over. I know we complicated things by sleeping together the other night. I just wanted to feel close to you again. But I also want to feel close to you in ways other than sex. Maybe we shouldn’t sleep together until we figure this out.”

“You’re right. We probably shouldn’t. Keatie, I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you either.”

He pulls me into his arms and kisses me. They are sweet I’m sorry kisses.

Kisses that get all mixed up with my tears.

As usual with our kisses, they quickly turn from sweet to full of desire.

He pushes his seat back and pulls me over, so I’m on his lap, straddling him.

Pretty soon we’re doing exactly what we just decided we shouldn’t do.

And it feels amazing.



“Just so you know, I’m taking you to a cool little place for dinner tonight. I am planning to woo you, and not just with sex.”

“Really?” I say and start crying again.

“Why does that make you cry?”

I sniffle, crying through the words. “Because it means I don’t have to feel bad about what we just did.”

“You feel bad? How can you feel bad about something that felt so good?”

“Because it’s not that simple.”

“How much simpler can it get, Keatie? We have sex. Amazing, mind-blowingly good sex. I’m sorry if I haven’t made a big deal of going out on dates. I did ask you to Homecoming in a big way. I planned stuff. You had fun, didn’t you?”

I nod, dry my tears, and feel so much better.

He drives a bit farther and takes me to a hole in the wall. The outside is rundown, needs painting and needs a new sign. But I notice the parking lot is packed.

It’s a casual Mexican restaurant and there’s a long line of people waiting to get in, but Dawson walks up to the front, shakes a guy’s hand, and motions for me to follow him.

The guy leads us through the restaurant and then out a sliding glass door.

Now I see why the place is so packed.

There is a huge courtyard under a glass roof. The glass roof is sparkling clean, and you can see the clouds floating by as the sun turns them various shades of pink. There are little twinkle lights everywhere, across the beams on the glass ceiling and in the huge potted trees.

We are seated at a table that is set between a couple trees and has a feeling of seclusion.

Dawson pulls out my chair for me and grins at me as I sit down.

“This place is very cool. How did you ever find it?”

“I wanted to take you somewhere special. I’ve been looking up restaurants all afternoon.”

I lean over and kiss him. “Thank you.”

A Mariachi band strolls up to our table and start serenading us.

Dawson looks irritated, hands one of the dudes a wad of cash, and shoos them away.



We get to the game a bit late.

The scoreboard shows that the second quarter has just started and we’re down by a touchdown.

It starts to sprinkle rain.

The rain gets harder, the field gets muddier, and Dawson holds me tighter.

Pretty soon, it’s the end of the game.

The score is tied.

Only a few ticks left on the clock.

Aiden walks onto the field to kick the winning field goal. His uniform is wet. Molded tightly to his pads and body.

He looks at the goal post. Lines up the kick. Then he stops and looks dead at me.

He does a complicated-looking thing with his hands. His thumbs and pointer fingers form touching double O’s. Then the rest of his fingers form sort of a bridge above the O’s.

Sort of like you would make a heart with your hands. But I have no idea what it’s supposed to be.

The ball is snapped. Logan lines up the laces and Aiden kicks the ball straight through the goal posts.

The guys rush out on the field to congratulate him as the crowd cheers.



At midnight, I’m lying in bed, trying to mimic what he did with his hands.

When all of a sudden, I see it.

My phone buzzes, startling me.



Hottie God: You need to sneak out tonight to congratulate me.



Me: That thing you did, before you kicked it. Was it supposed to be a four-leaf clover?



Hottie God: The Cave. One hour.



This is crazy. I really shouldn’t go.

But I’m going to.



Take off your pants.

1am



It’s stopped raining, but is still cloudy, damp, and chilly. I trudge back through the trees, getting my boots all covered with mud.

Aiden isn’t here yet, so I sit down on a stump, realizing too late that it’s very wet. And now, so are the back of my sweats and even my underwear.

Is there anything worse, really, than a damp ass?

This is not very romantic.

I hear the brush moving and get a momentary rush of worry about getting caught out here after curfew.

But the tree limbs part, and Aiden walks into the clearing carrying a Burberry sleeping bag.

“No way I’m sleeping outside in this weather,” I tease.

“The backing is waterproof, so we won’t get wet when we sit down.”

“Too late for that.” I turn around and show him my wet backside.

“There’s nothing worse than a damp ass,” he says. Which are the exact words I just thought a few seconds ago.

Oh, the fates are so toying with me.

He spreads out the sleeping bag with the shiny side down, kicks his shoes off, then stands on top of it and starts taking off his sweatpants.

Uh, holy shit.

What is this?

I watch though.

He has the best legs at school. They have just enough light blond hair to be masculine, but not enough to be hairy.

“What are you doing?”

“Take off your pants,” he commands.

“Isn’t this moving a little fast? I mean, we haven’t even made out yet.”

He laughs and shakes his head at me. “Silly Boots. I’m going to let you wear my sweats. I have athletic shorts underneath.”

“Oh, um, I . . .”

“What? It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Except that my underwear got wet too.”

He runs his tongue across his bottom lip and grins at me. He’s never made this facial gesture in front of me. And the combination of his mouth and tongue both looking at me at the same time.

I can’t even tell you what it does.

It makes my stomach flip, like I was on a roller coaster and we just flipped upside down doing 75 miles per hour.

You had sex with Dawson tonight, you idiot.

What is wrong with me?

I need off this ride and fast.

Have you ever been on a roller coaster, upside down, and all of a sudden it feels like maybe your seatbelt—that little piece of webbed material—isn’t quite as tight as it should be? You feel yourself slide a fraction of an inch and mentally prepare to fall to your death before it tightens up again?

I feel like I’m ready to fall out of the roller coaster.

Plummet to my death.

And I briefly think, What would my heaven be like?

When my dad died, Mom explained heaven as this amazing place where Daddy was living his best days over and over. Like the day we got ice cream and rode the Ferris wheel then walked along the beach holding hands.

And my mind flashes to Aiden gliding a feather all over me. That is my idea of heaven.

“You can take them off too. I won’t look,” Aiden says, referring to my wet undies as he hands me his warm sweats.

And, sadly, he doesn’t even attempt to peek as I slide them on.

I say what’s on my mind before I think better. “Have you ever been naked in these?”

He pulls me onto the sleeping bag with him and kisses me in response.

And his hands. His talented hands are finally moving across my body.

For the first time, he seems like a normal boy.

Like a normal, horny boy.

He stops and leans up on one arm. “So you figured it out, huh?”

And I want to say, That you are a god? Yes, I know.

He makes half the symbol with his fingers. It looks incomplete, so I mirror it with my fingers and hold them up to his.

And when our fingers touch, I swear to god, a spark shoots from my hand to his.

“A four-leaf clover,” I say breathlessly.

He rolls on top of me, straddling me and pinning me under his weight. It’s an effortless move.

I look at him, my eyes wide.

“Use both your hands to make the double O’s,” he tells me.

So I do.

Then he puts one hand on each side of mine, forming two more O’s.

“That does look like a clover.”

“It’s going to take both of us to make this work,” he says. “I heard Dawson took you on a date tonight.”

“He says he’s going to start wooing me.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Aiden says, still forming the clover. “I’m going to win.”

“It sorta looks like our hands are having sex,” I laugh. “Like, the way they’re joined together, kinda . . . uh, never mind.”

“Let’s talk about sex.”

Just Aiden saying the word sex almost leaves me more breathless than actual sex with Dawson.

“Uh, okay.”

He leans down, his mouth about twelve inches from mine. “We’re going to take things slow.”

“I wanna take things slow. Like, if you were just hoping for sex from me, you should probably halt the wooing process.”

“Does that mean you won’t be having sex with anyone else during the wooing process?”

“Um . . .”

“So that’s why I’m not winning? If we had sex, would I win?”

I let out a little laugh. “I don’t know. You think it would be any good?”

He runs his finger gently down my neck. “What do you think?”

I swallow hard. “God, don’t do that to me. I know I slept with Dawson too soon. But I . . .”

He starts to get off me, but I grab his hands.

“I really don’t want to hear this,” he says.

“You need to hear it. I thought I could go fast with the sexual part of a relationship and slow with the feelings part, but I can’t. It gets all messed up. All backwards. I want to wait. And I don’t want this to become some sort of competition.”

“Boots?”

He moves closer to my face.

“Yeah?”

“I’d wait for you forever. You don’t get it do you?”

“Get what?”

“We’re going to be together for a long time. There's no need to rush things when you know that.”

“Do you know how weird it is for a guy to say that? Guys hate commitment.”

“Did you not feel it? Was it just me?”

“No, I felt it too. I just thought you were a player and fought it.”

“Don’t fight me anymore.”

I don’t get to reply. His lips quickly close the gap between us.

All of a sudden, there is a huge clap of thunder and a bolt of lightning hits a tree not too far from us. Rain starts coming down in buckets.

Aiden pulls me up off the ground.

We laugh at how instantly soaked we both are.

But then we lock eyes.

His lips press against mine.

And there in the pouring rain, I get the. Best. Kiss. Of. My. Entire. Life.

And I’m pretty sure with this kiss, he branded me.

Seared his initials into my skin.

Like bite marks from a vampire.

I’m his.



When I get back from the Cave, I change out of my soaking wet clothes and lie in bed thinking about our kiss in the rain and wondering how it could have been the best kiss of my life.

There were no tongues.

Just lips colliding.

Lightning around us mimicking the electricity I feel every time our lips touch.

It was a simple, single, electrifying kiss.

And it was amazing.
    

Friday, October 21st

I need some cake.

10:30am



Most of the classes today have very few people in them. Most of us are working, getting everything set up for the PSW/Greek weekend.

I find Peyton in the café overseeing its transformation. There are huge black canvases draped on the walls. Art students are using projectors to beam classic sculptures onto the wall and are tracing them with white chalk. Others are drawing thick Greek columns and filling the fake windows with views of a bright blue ocean.

“Hey,” she says. “It’s looking great, don’t you think?”

“It really is. I just stopped by to check it out. Brad gave me a list of stuff to do. I have to go make sure the audio equipment is all ready for the movie tonight and that the gym is set up.”

“I heard that you’re hanging out with Dawson tonight and my brother tomorrow night.”

“That’s the plan, yes.”

“Do you think dating them both is a good idea? I mean, usually when you date more than one guy, you make sure they run in different circles, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

She leans in and whispers, “So, I was flirting with hottie Cooper this morning.”

“Peyton, don’t do that.”

“Why not? There’s no one here I want to date.”

“What about Brad?”

“Hmm, let’s see. Pretty little boy Brad versus a manly tattooed hottie. Um, no. Besides, I’m pretty sure that he was flirting back. Whitney wants him too. But I’m not going to let her win.”

“Peyton, look, this thing you have going on with Whitney. I know what you’re trying to do. And, I swear, it’s going to backfire on you.”

“No way. I’m not afraid of her anymore. You were right. It’s silly of me to let her hold that over my head. I was a minor. What good would it do if it came out now? Sure, it’d be embarrassing, but pretty soon I’ll be at college far away from here. And her. By the way, I saw what Dawson did in front of your dorm.”

“What do you mean?”

She grins. “Looks like you have two boys trying to woo you.”



I decide to stop by my dorm to see what she’s talking about before I make my way down to the gym.

Maggie is outside, writing all over the sidewalk with chalk.

“Doesn’t it look amazing?”

“It’s really pretty,” I tell her, looking at all the messages the girls in our dorm have written to welcome the prospective students. “How was the library with Jake? I asked him about it and he wouldn’t tell me. He always tells me.”

She grins, full on. “It was good. Very much a friend thing. I’m pretty sure we are in the same boat.”

“The friend boat?”

“Yeah. You still in that with Aiden?”

“I’m not sure anymore. Last night he told me we were going to be together for a long time. Does that seem weird to you?”

“Not if you feel the same way. But, wait, I thought you went to the game with Dawson?”

“I did. And I was bad. Again. We decided we weren’t going to anymore, but we did.”

“You have no willpower.”

“You’re right. Dawson is like me satisfying my sweet tooth. When I’m having something sweet, I love it, but then when I’m done, I feel guilty.”

“Because of the calories?”

I laugh. “Yes. Dawson is a five layer chocolate cake with ganache filling. Impossible to resist, but leaves you feeling a little guilty after.”

“He stopped by here earlier. Did you see it?”

“Peyton said something about it.”

Maggie grabs my arm and pulls me toward the dorm. There on the first step, near where he always sits and waits for me, is a huge pink heart. It says: Dawson + Keatie.

“Oh, that’s so sweet!”

Dawson grabs me around my waist. “I’m glad you think it’s sweet. I have something else sweet for you in my dorm. Come on.”

As we walk next door, I say, “Did you see your brother’s neck? He has new hickeys over the old ones.”

“Did you see my brother’s stomach?”

“We’ve never done that, you know. Given each other hickeys.”

“You’ve given me a couple little ones before,” he says, pulling me into his bedroom and sucking hard on my neck. “Want me to give you one?”

“Not really,” I laugh. “You know, we kind of missed out on all that. The kissing for hours, the hickeys, and all that.”

“Is that what you want? For me to write Dawes across your stomach?” He immediately puts his lips on my stomach, which is exposed in my game day dance uniform. “Maybe I’ll just put my football number on you. Mark my territory.”

“Uh . . .”

“I’m just playing. Tell you what. Let’s just make out.”

I smile at him. “That sounds like fun.”

We kiss for a few minutes.

But when he pulls me on top of him, our kissing gets deeper, and both our hips start that little movement toward each other.

“Keatie, you gotta stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Every time you kiss me, you move your hips into me, and you keep making those sexy little noises. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

“That’s cuz you keep pushing my butt into your leg and moving it against me.”

I roll off him and wrap both my arms up around my head. He puts his hand across my exposed stomach and then down inside my dance pants.

I moan, then sigh and try to shake this desire. “What happened to just kissing?”

He runs his hand further down, pulling my pants down in the process. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” he says huskily, as I use his feet to kick my pants the rest of the way off.

He pulls off my thong while I try to undo his belt. I finally get it undone, unzip his shorts, and pull down the front of his boxers. He holds my hands down above my head with one hand, while he slides off his shorts and boxers.

Then he grins at me and says, “We’re just gonna kiss.”

I wrap my legs around his waist in agreement. “Yeah, we’ll just kiss.”

Dawson may not touch my soul, but the parts he does touch, he makes feel really good.



After we get dressed, Dawson says, “I’m starved. Let’s go get lunch.”

We’re now sitting at the lunch table, probably looking way too happy.

Bryce says to me, “So, what’s going on with you two? I saw the It’s complicated thing, but then I heard you had a date with Aiden.”

“We’re allowed to date other people,” Dawson answers.

“So, you’re still hooking up?”

Dawson laughs and says, “Um, we decided we’re just gonna kiss.”

My phone makes a little email ding, telling me I have a message from Grandma.



Grandpa says you want to know the difference between love and true love. Joan Crawford said this, “Love is a fire, but whether it’s going to warm your heart or burn down your house, you can never tell.”



Dawson and I are the only ones left at the lunch table, so I ask him, “Do you believe in true love?”

“Uh, I think so, why?”

“Do you think you just know?”

“Like love at first sight? Romantic fairy tale stuff? I though what we just did in my room was pretty damn romantic.”

“Our just kissing was romantic?”

“Hell, yeah.”

I tilt my head and look at him, like Seriously?

“Okay, so it probably wasn’t romantic. It was hot. Sexy. That’s what all this is about, huh? The romance? We have the sex, but not the romance? Wasn’t last night romantic?”

“Dinner was romantic.”

“So early dinner and then tonight after the game you’re mine, right?”

“I think I already was yours.”

He laughs. “Naw, we just kissed.”