Under The Peaches (Teaching Love Series Book 1) Read online

  Mr. Ean laughs and pats him on the back. “Stop before you hurt something. I’ll do it. Email me the details so I can fit it into my calendar. I’ve got that conference coming up too, so don’t forget to get a sub. I emailed you the details.”

  “Will do,” Principal Hunt promises, glancing at me. “Keep up the good work.”

  When he’s gone, Mr. Ean drops the façade and sinks down into his desk chair, eyeing me. “Are you going to the Halloween dance?”

  “Yeah right. Who’s going to ask me?”

  He frowns, gaze displeased. “Don’t down yourself like that.”

  “Unfortunately, I am down.” I stuff my things into my backpack. “Thanks for letting me hang out. I have to go to work.”

  “Anytime, Kaelyn. Don’t work too hard.” He smiles hesitantly, a silent I’m sorry after my outburst.

  “I won’t. And, um,” I stammer, looking at my feet. “Don’t let Layla get to you tonight.”

  “I’ll try. Thank you.”

  I bite my lip and look at him, my hand on the door. “And you don’t talk too much. Maybe she didn’t listen hard enough.”

  He swallows hard and nods slowly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I take a much-needed breath the moment I’m free of him. The halls are empty and I am thankful for it on my way to my PT. I try not to see gray as I pull out of the parking lot. At work, I dress and make my face up. As I apply pink stain to my lips, I look myself over. Am I beautiful? Is beauty harder to find when you’re looking for it, because it sure feels that way tonight? I tilt my head to the side and examine myself closer, trying to find why Mr. Ean thinks that. In dismay, I think perhaps he doesn’t. Maybe he was being nice.

  Again.

  The doors open and Avery pokes her head in. “Come on, girl. What are you waiting for? One of the waiters called in sick. You’ve got double the tables tonight.”

  I’m not different, nor am I beautiful. I am still me.

  “Coming,” I assure her, grabbing my apron from her on my way into Bella’s.

  Tamryn is on the floor tonight, so thankfully I don’t get her usual lecture. My tables are in a state of chaos. Drinks are missing, orders are misplaced; it takes an hour to align everything the way it should be. After that, it’s a game to keep it that way. Don’t let that table’s drinks get too low while making sure the table next to them doesn’t have to wait too long for their checks. I’m thankful for the excitement. It keeps my mind busy and I’m important for four hours. My tips are great. I pocket them with a sense of accomplishment.

  When my shift’s over, I’m tired and starving. I get my order to go and eat it in my car in the parking lot, stuffing pasta into my mouth like a madwoman. It’s the first time I’ve eaten today. The pasta hits my stomach like a brick.

  Before I go home, I stop at the bank and deposit my tips so Bruce can’t take them from me. Then I drive around Savannah all night with my windows down, letting the fresh smell of the air calm me. Thick swaths of moss hang from the trees near Bruce’s property. I ease my car around back and cut the engine. I take the rest of my food and crawl through my window into my bedroom. I don’t want to risk running into him tonight.

  Something about Bruce and the dark always makes me uneasy. I almost wanted to go back to the time where he ignored me. Somehow being ignored was better when the attention came with a sick feeling in my stomach, not threats.

  It takes a long time to fall asleep. And when I finally do, I’m thinking about gray eyes and jade eyes, and how they will never go together.

  Chapter Three

  I awake before my alarm goes off.

  I need a shower, but don’t want to risk having one this morning. My leftovers from the night before will have to be enough for breakfast too. I can hear Bruce and Mandy moving around the house; each sound of theirs is like a punch to my ribs.

  Needing to get out as soon as possible, I change my clothes quickly. The threat of being naked makes my hands tremble as I sift through my clothes. I pick a pair of ripped jeans and a white shirt with Paris on the front, pairing it with my parka. I fix my makeup, hair, and swish toothpaste around in my mouth. After a spritz of body spray, I’m as good as I’ll get.

  Driving to school feels ominous today. I know Nessa isn’t here, but Riley is. And so is Brady. They’re both hanging out near his truck in the parking lot with a few others when I arrive. I park at the other end of the lot and hurry inside. It’s not that I’m afraid. I’m not in the mood to bleed today. Some days there is room for scars. Others, there is no room left.

  When I get to English, I hunker down in my parka and take the progress test on Othello painstakingly slowly. I’m not in the mood to excel. In fact, I want to get the day over with, go to work, and then go home and sleep. I’m not even in the mood for Brady, who holds my seat in the back for me when I arrive. I sit beside him and hide my face with the side of my hand, staring down at my calculus book.

  “Psst,” he whispers.

  He’s gorgeous today, his eyes light. “Yes?”

  “You okay? You look … different.”

  He means I’m not drooling all over him. “I’m great,” I lie. “How’re you?”

  He shrugs. “Living, baby. Did you do your homework?”

  I recall Mr. Ean’s words from yesterday and admit I don’t have the courage to test his theory out. “I did. You want it?”

  His eyes lower. He slides his chair over and presses his forehead against the side of mine. His breath is on my ear, making me shiver. “Hang out with me today at lunch?” He kisses my temple, his lips lingering.

  I realize too quickly that Nessa is suspended and now he wants to spend his lunch with me. I gloss over the little nagging voice in my head that knows every reason why I should say no. I turn my face to the side and kiss his lips softly. “Okay, Brady.” For one day, Brady is mine.

  His eyes fill with want. “Meet me at my truck when the bell rings. We’ll go hang out off campus.”

  I kiss him again. I can’t help myself. “Okay, Brady.”

  He kisses me longer, his mouth melting me in my seat. When the teacher starts talking, he leans back. “Don’t forget your homework.”

  I hand him the worksheet I filled out in Mr. Ean’s class yesterday. A burning in my blood lights, a want that knows it’s finally going to get what it desires. After today, he’s mine. For the rest of class, he keeps making subtle hints. Touching my thigh, pushing my hair behind my ear; Brady does everything to show me what he wants: Me.

  When the bell rings, he leans over and kisses me below my jaw, whispering in my ear. “I can’t wait to be with you.” And then he gets up and strolls out, sexy and confident.

  I watch him go, jaw hanging. The girl next to me looks at me in disgust. “What?” I snap. She’s shattering my bliss.

  “He has a girlfriend. I’ve seen them together.”

  “Really? I haven’t.”

  Leave me alone!

  “But I’m telling you he does.”

  “Mind your own business!” I snap again, making her cringe.

  She gives me a pitiful look before she leaves.

  I’m not going to let her ruin my bliss. I’ve spent that last year and a half obsessing over him. I’m comfortable enough with myself at this moment to admit that I’m obsessed with Brady. Being bullied just to have a single moment with him is teetering on the edge of insanity. I also know I have no one. I want Brady and I’m going to have him. Sanity’s overrated anyway.

  For the first time in a long time, my locker is bare after calculus. Even Riley isn’t near hers down the hall. I relish in the feel of not having to deal with Nessa today. I get Brady. I didn’t run into Bruce. Mr. Ean isn’t outside his classroom. Today so far is my kind of day.

  When I arrive at my next class, I’m early for once. The teacher even gives me a positive look, as if to say, “finally.” I smile back, in a good mood. However, I get antsy when the bell rings. I want class to be over. I want Brady on top of me in the back of his t
ruck. I want him so badly I wonder momentarily if this want is the right kind. I can’t even think about anything else other than him. I know there are a lot of other things out there vying for my attention, but they’re lost in the possibility of squelching this desire I’ve carried around for years.

  When the bell rings, I’m that much closer. I duck into the bathroom to freshen up, fixing my makeup and hair. I stash my backpack in my locker on my way out. I try and hide my smile all the way to the parking lot. Brady’s already in his truck, listening to country music. I slip into the passenger seat and he looks over at me, grinning.

  “You ready, babe?”

  I can’t speak, so I nod.

  Brady drives off campus a few miles away to a peach grove. We pull in near the edge, parking under the plump pink peaches. They canopy us, pink and green and the blue sky above. It’s beautiful.

  He turns the radio loud and opens the back window on his truck, letting Little Big Town’s Girl Crush filter out on replay. He looks at me when I blush. “This always makes me think of you.”

  Some of my bliss dissipates. “How romantic,” I grumble. I love the song, can even recognize the resemblance, but I’m pissed off he thinks about me and waits for Nessa to be gone to do anything. But my bliss is too strong to shake.

  “You want me, don’t you?”

  I look into his eyes. “I want you, Brady.”

  “Let’s go in the back. Again,” he adds, hopping out of the driver’s seat.

  I get out on wobbly legs. My bliss pushes me along. I take my parka off and leave it on my seat. Brady jumps into the back of his truck and searches through a container for something. When he finds it, he shakes out the blanket and lays it on the back of his truck. It’s the same blanket I lost my virginity on.

  He extends his hand to me. Taking it, he pulls me up, and we both fall to our knees. Brady doesn’t waste any time. He crushes his lips against mine and starts kissing me roughly. I don’t want rough. I want passion and soft. I want to be the one to lead so he misses me. This way, I can’t keep up.

  I wrap my arms around him and kiss him back, running my fingers through his hair. We both fall slowly to the bed of his truck. I end up on my back. Brady nestles between my legs.

  I start to get over my negativity the moment I feel him pressing against me. I want him so damn badly I don’t even mind the song or the rough kisses. The song starts to turn me on, especially when he starts to sing it between kisses. Eventually, my clothes are gone and so are his, discarded in a senseless heap beside us. He pulls a condom out of his pocket and slips it on over his erection. I watch his impeccable body as he does. His abs, his chest; his everything is going to be mine.

  When the condom’s on, he rests between my legs and crushes his lips against me again before he slowly enters me. It’s been a long time since we had sex. It hurts slightly, but I allow him to pump into me, hoping he’ll slow down once he gets it out of his system. But Brady doesn’t slow down at all. He thrusts into me roughly, the same way he kisses me. Passionless, harsh.

  Empty.

  My bliss shatters right before my eyes. I find no pleasure beneath him. I’m so disappointed. I smother my face in his neck as he pounds into me to hide my tears. I try and focus on the fact I’m getting what I wanted, but it no longer feels like I want it anymore. Maybe I never did. I don’t want Brady. I want … someone to want me the way I desire the fantasy that someone may feel the same.

  Brady feels like he’s on top of me for hours. He kisses me relentlessly throughout the process, and once or twice I think I may feel pleasure until he slams into me again like I’m nothing to him. I’m only a body. When he stills on top of me and groans I feel relief. He rolls over and exhales, breathing deeply.

  I sit up immediately and find my panties and bra, pulling them on in a disgusted haze. My hands shake, my eyes blur; I’m close to breaking. My jeans and shirt follow. I feel filthy. I feel so dirty I can’t stand myself.

  “Where are you going?” he demands when I hop down from his truck. “Why’re you crying?”

  “You used me.” I point at him accusingly. “You don’t even want me. You just wanted sex because Nessa is gone.”

  He doesn’t even deny it. Doesn’t mask his indifference. It’s like it was always in his eyes and I am only now seeing it with my bliss gone.

  “You’re only now figuring that out?”

  My jaw drops. How could he? My heart fills with his indifference. “Do you even like me at all?”

  “You’re hot. And I know you want me.” He shrugs. “That’s about it. It’s not my fault you fooled yourself into thinking something different.”

  I moan in pain. “Brady.”

  He is immune to my pain.

  He lies back down, covering his flaccid penis. “Shit, that was good. You sure you don’t want to go again?”

  I gawk at him as my insides begin to break.

  I can’t take it anymore.

  I’m so numb I can’t even cry. I stomp away under the canopy of ripe peaches. Some of them are on the ground and I smash them with my foot, the smell of their sweet nectar making me ill. How could I fall for his bullshit? The answer is swift and damaging. I wanted to. I’m not a stupid girl. I am intelligent enough to get straight A’s. All I wanted was Brady McAlister, so that’s all I saw. And I had gotten what I wanted. I was nothing but a pathetic girl to him. Someone he could copy off, flirt with, and use for sex when his girlfriend was gone. I fell for his shit because I wanted to fall.

  I’m infuriated with myself. I feel violated, covered in his sweat and use. When I finally get to school, there’s one class left. I retrieve my backpack from my locker and realize too late that I left my parka in Brady’s truck. I’m even more infuriated. I only have one jacket. Now I’ll have to avoid myself in the mirror and freeze. Brady took so much from me today. The worst part is I handed it to him. I handed him my self-worth, my intelligence, and my body. Three things a woman needs to function.

  I can’t function.

  When my last class lets out, I’m numb all over, doing things unthinkingly. I go to my locker and get my books. I walk without feeling the ground beneath my feet. I am disconnected from my heart and body, dispersed in a way that feels like I’ll never be whole again.

  As I’m walking down the hall, a hand reaches out to grab my elbow, pulling me from the crowd. I look at Mr. Ean. My tear ducts nearly explode the moment I meet his kind eyes.

  “Where are you going? Classroom’s this way.” He smiles, pulling on my hand, thinking today is like any other day.

  He should know better.

  I bite my lip hard to keep from crying and gently pull free of his grasp. I want to be alone. “Not today.”

  His eyes take me in; his smile falls. I can only imagine what I look like. Far worse than the day I met him. My eyes are haunting me, and I can’t even see them. His expression draws down. He points inside of his classroom. “Inside. Now,” he orders.

  “Sucks to be you,” a girl snickers.

  I give her a stare and she scurries off. “I want to be alone,” I insist, hoping he’ll take a hint. I hug myself, trying with all my might to keep the breaks in me from cracking.

  “Kaelyn,” he says, this quiet calm warning. “Get in there now.”

  I angrily stomp past him. He closes the classroom door and locks it with his key. Then he looks at me, his anger fading. “What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You don’t look right.” He tries to put a finger on my wrongness. “You’re not yourself. What happened?”

  There’s no way I’m telling him that Brady used me again in the back of his truck. “It was a long day.”

  “Did the shower creep get at you?” His hands ball into fists.

  It takes me a second to realize he’s talking about Bruce. “No,” I assure, shocked that he remembered. “I haven’t run into him since.”

  His fists relax. “If you’re not going to tell me then could you at least sit down and do yo
ur homework?”

  The last thing I want is to stare into his kind eyes for an hour. “Right now I want to be nothing and no one. I have to go.”

  “Where were you at lunch?” He’s a smart man. He knows something happened. He just doesn’t know what. “I brought food today. I had to eat it all by myself.”

  His comment is meant to be teasing, but it makes me feel so guilty I can’t take it anymore. I break down right there. Tears spill over and my body shakes with the breaking parts inside of me.

  “I knew something happened.” His arms come around me and I’m suddenly being pressed against his chest. He holds me to him hard. “You can tell me. Is it Nessa?”

  I shake my head against him. I want to hold something, someone that won’t hurt me. I hesitantly bring my arms around him, embracing him. “Stop trying to figure it out.”

  His hands rub my shoulders. “Did anyone hurt you?”

  “Not physically.” I rub my cheek against his shirt to dry my tears, and I realize he’s wearing the white one everyone talks about. The see-through shirt with the V-neck collar. I let my arms hang around his waist and look up at him. “Just my heart.”

  He slides his hands from my shoulders to cup my face. “That’s something.”

  “It was my fault.”

  “Everything’s your fault,” he accuses, sliding his thumb under my eye to remove the tears there. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I’d rather hug Nessa than tell you, Mr. Ean.”

  “Julian,” he corrects. “Is it that bad?”

  I look down and notice they’re all right. I can see his abs through his shirt. He makes Brady look like a little boy. Mr. Ean’s abs are the kind you see in magazines. The kind you drool over. I’m too upset to drool over anyone else right now. “It’s that bad. I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” But I don’t let him go.

  His hands grasp my face tighter. His eyes are stuck on mine. “Are you sure it’s better to be alone right now?”