Truth Game : Ocean Bay #3 Page 12

  Daryl

  She said yes.

  Molly said yes.

  For the first time in weeks, I felt some semblance of peace settle inside of me.

  Tomorrow was our last game of the year. If we won, I would be leaving high school as a state champion. If we lost, then I still won because I had her.

  We would off to college together in a few short months and with a little luck, we would never have to come back to Ocean Bay.

  Maybe she would never even need to know the truth about that night, or about the liars we were surrounded by and the secrets they kept.

  I knew the truth would cause Molly nothing but pain.

  Telling her might be the only way to ease my conscience, but it would kill Molly, and I just couldn’t do it.

  I couldn’t fucking bear to be the one to destroy her.

  After all, how was a guy supposed to tell the girl he loved that the person who was supposed to love her most in the world had betrayed her in the most unthinkable way?

  That her whole life had been built on chapters of lies after lies.

  I didn’t want to be that guy.

  I refused to be.

  37 Molly

  "Oh my god," Mercy declared, throwing her hands up. "Mom, you are being ridiculous and you need to stop!"

  We had been hanging out in her bedroom after school when her mother came barreling in, trying to give her yet another one of her infamous 'please don’t hook up with your stepbrother' talks.

  Apparently, it didn’t matter to Cassidy if she had an audience or not.

  On the contrary, Mercy's mom seemed to thrive on it.

  "I'm not you, okay?" Mercy continued to say, tone laced with sarcasm. "I have no plans on conceiving in the backseat of Rourke's SUV and calling the baby Rover!"

  Cassidy gasped and clutched her enormous baby bump. "Mercedes is a lovely name."

  Mercy rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh, and a constant reminder of the night my bio-dad, whoever the hell he is, porked my mom in the backseat of his car."

  Grabbing a nearby pillow, I pressed it to my face and tried to hold in my laughter. Lord, I knew I shouldn’t laugh, that it was entirely inappropriate, but I couldn’t help it.

  "Can't you see how uncomfortable you're making Molly?" Mercy added, pointing at me hunched over on her bed. "God, Mom!"

  "Oh, I do apologize, Molly, honey," Cassidy quickly said, looking embarrassed for the first time.

  "It's okay," I managed to squeeze out.

  "If you want to do some productive parenting, how about you tell that asshole in there to stop throwing his damn football at my wall –" Mercy paused to point to the wall that separated her bedroom from Rourke's, "Because if he keeps it up, you're gonna have a murder on your hands!"

  "Mercedes!"

  "I'm serious, Mom," she shot back. "I will end him."

  "I thought you loved your stepbrother," Cassidy shot back with a huff. "Isn't that why we're all in this mess?"

  "Semantics," Mercy bit out, not giving an inch.

  "Mercedes." Her mom shook her head in defeat and waddled to the door. "We'll talk about this later," she added before walking out.

  "I swear that woman gets more juvenile by the day," Mercy grumbled when her mom closed the door out behind her. "Ugh."

  "Y'all are so funny," I laughed, watching my friend flop down on her bed. "For real, Merc. If your life was a reality show, I would tune in daily."

  "Uh-huh," Mercy mumbled before jumping to her feet and stalking over to the wall.

  "Oh, you think you're so fucking funny, don’t you," she muttered to herself, grabbing the hardest, thickest textbook on her desk. "Let's see how you like it, prick." With that, she started hammering the wall with the hardback, calling out, "Molls, grab a book and help a bitch out here, will you?"

  "Meh." Shrugging, I jumped off the bed, grabbed a book, and joined my friend in her attempt to drive her stepbrother/boyfriend batshit crazy.

  After five solid minutes of non-stop book banging, Mercy's bedroom door flew inwards, revealing a furious looking Rourke in the doorway, and an amused looking Daryl standing behind him.

  "You knocked my flat screen off the damn wall, Six."

  "I did?" Mercy's eyes lit up in victory. "Well, way to go me, huh?"

  Chuckling darkly, Rourke shook his head and stalked straight for her. "Oh, baby, you are so fucking dead."

  In one quick move, Rourke threw my curvy friend over his shoulder and stalked out of the room, reaching up to smack her ass when she kicked and slapped at him.

  "You know; I still can't decide if their relationship is just plain toxic or bordering on that weird-ass arrangement that couple had in those movies you made me watch," Daryl mused, strolling into the room. "And if it is, then they're both Christian Grey."

  "It's probably a bit of both," I offered with a grin, pointing towards the wall that concealed our view from the very loud sex noises that started coming from inside of Rourke's bedroom.

  "Jesus." Daryl shook his head in confusion. "Fucking psychos."

  Laughing, I watched his every move as he sauntered towards me, looking like more than just a snack in a wife-beater and grey sweats.

  "Is that my hoodie?"

  I glanced down at the oversized sweater I had on and nodded. "Yeah, do you want it back?"

  "I want it off you," he offered, closing the space between us and pulling me into his arms. "I want these baggy-ass jeans off you, too."

  Shivering when his lips collided with mine, I fell into our kiss, feeling my heart literally explode in my chest with butterflies.

  "I wish I looked better for you."

  The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to think them through or take them back.

  "What did you say to me?" he asked against my lips, body stiffening.

  "Nothing." Shivering, I kissed him deeper, trying to distract him from my verbal blunder. "Doesn’t matter."

  "Dolly, wait, wait, wait –" Breaking our kiss, Daryl took a step back, keeping his hands on my shoulders, as he stared down at me with an expression mixed with lust and confusion. "Did you just say what I think you just said?"

  Knowing that he wasn’t going to let it go until I came clean, I shrugged uncomfortably. "Well… yeah."

  The confusion in his eyes quickly morphed into anger. "Why would you say that, Molly?"

  "Because that's how I feel sometimes," I offered honestly, moving to sit on the edge of Mercy's bed. "How I feel pretty much twenty-four-seven."

  His frown deepened. "Since when?"

  I shivered. "Since always, D."

  "Where's this coming from?"

  "Nowhere." I shrugged. "I mean, it's always been here. You're beautiful, Daryl, and sexy, and popular, and talented… It's a little intimidating to be the girl on your arm sometimes – especially when you have a body like I do, and know that there's dozens of beautiful girls just waiting in the wings to swoop in and take you off my hands."

  "You're beautiful."

  "I believe you think that."

  "The fuck?" he growled. "You believe I think that? It's the truth."

  "Yeah? Well, there's at least five hundred girls at school who think otherwise – and say so daily."

  "Jesus Christ." Shaking his head, Daryl came and sat down beside me. "I don’t want you to feel like this." He turned to look at me. "I don’t want being with me to make you feel bad about yourself, Molly."

  "You make me feel amazing."

  "Apparently not."

  "This is my issue, D," I told him, placing my hand on his knee. "My insecurity. It has nothing to do with the way you treat me or how you make me feel."

  "Can we be real with each other for a sec?"

  "Always."

  He turned to look at me. "Your scars are there, okay. I get that. I see them, but only when you point it out. I ain't looking for flaws when I look at you. I'm too damn caught up in all of your perfections."

  I sucked in a sharp breath. "D…"

  "Your scars don't b
other me, Molly, and I know for a fact that they wouldn’t bother Rourke, Reebs, Mase, Bear, or any other guy I know either."

  "That's just not true…"

  "I ain't lying, Dolly," he pushed. "Clearly, us guys aren't nearly as superficial as you girls think we are, because when us guys are with a girl, I can assure you that we're too damn busy thanking Jesus for the naked perfection beneath us, and counting our blessings, then to think about anything else."

  "You're not serious."

  "Oh, I'm deadly serious."

  "You guys really think like that when you're getting laid?"

  "Hell yeah, we do," he replied, grinning back at me. "You're beautiful, baby," he added, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. "You wouldn’t believe how many times I say 'thank you, Jesus' in my head when I've got you naked beneath me."

  I grinned back at him. "Really?"

  "Really," he confirmed with a sexy wink, as he pushed me onto my back and straddled my legs. "Wanna get naked with me and I can show you?"

  38 Daryl

  As the weeks turned into months, and fall morphed into winter, I felt my feelings grow deeper and my conscience grow heavier.

  The more time I spent with Molly, the harder I fell, and the harder I fell, the stronger my fear grew.

  Fear of losing state.

  Fear of winning state.

  Fear of the future.

  Fear of the past.

  Fear of the unknown.

  Fear of the day that I would have to come clean to Molly.

  A day that seemed to be drawing closer with every passing minute.

  Winter break was right around the corner, along with state, and the pressure that had been steadily mounting on me since freshman year had suddenly reached boiling point.

  Win, lose, or draw, I couldn’t wait for the season to be over.

  I needed a break.

  I needed a minute to breathe.

  The secrets I was carrying around felt like a noose around my neck that tightened every time I looked into those brown eyes and omitted another damn truth.

  I couldn't do all of it for much longer.

  Keep Molly happy while lying to her face every goddamn day.

  Keep Wren off my back.

  Keep our relationship hidden from my mom.

  Keep out of Nick Peterson's way.

  Keep my grades up.

  Keep my mouth shut.

  Keep playing the role of mister fucking perfect.

  I couldn't fucking take it anymore, dammit!

  "What's wrong, D?" Molly asked, showing that she had an acute ability to read my mind. We were sitting in the back row of the movie theatre, attempting to watch some movie Mercy had recommended, and I couldn't breathe.

  I honest to god felt like I was having a heart attack.

  "Daryl?" Molly pressed, turning in her seat to look at me, concern laced in her eyes. "Oh my god, you're burning up." She pressed her small hand to my check and sucked in a sharp breath. "You're sweating like crazy."

  "I, ah, I'm not sure… But I feel like I have to leave," I managed to choke out, though breathing wasn't coming easy to me, as I snatched up her hand in mine. "I feel like I have to leave right now, Molls!"

  "Okay, okay," she encouraged, shooing me out of my seat and quickly hurrying after me. "Let's get some fresh air."

  Barreling through the lobby of the movie theatre, I didn’t stop moving until I had burst through the glass doors and the night air greeted me.

  "Breathe," Molly coaxed, smoothing her hand over my back, as I leaned against a nearby railing and tried to catch my breath. "That's it," she soothed, tracing soft circles into my skin. "You're okay, D. I'm right here with you."

  "Fuck, I –" I blew out another ragged breath, feeling winded and rattled. "I don’t know what's happening to me –"

  "Shh," she whispered, keeping her small hand on my hand. "It's okay. It's just anxiety. State is only a couple of days away. This is your adrenalin spiking. Don’t worry about it. Just breathe. Panic attacks happen to everybody at some stage."

  "Not me."

  "You're human, babe."

  Babe.

  She called me babe and told me she loved me on a daily basis.

  Fuck, I didn’t deserve this girl.

  "Love you," I managed to strangle out, as I continued to use the railing to hold me up.

  "Love you, too," she whispered, resting her cheek against my shoulder blade as she continued to rub my back. "And whatever happens at the game this weekend, state championship or not, I want you to know that I'm hella proud of you."

  We stood there for at least thirty minutes, with me leaning over the railing, and Molly stroking my back, until I was finally able to function again.

  "Want me to drive back?" she asked, entwining her small hand with mine as we walked slowly back to the parking lot.

  "Nah." Shaking my head, I unlocked the truck and held the door open for her to climb in. "I'm good."

  "Are you staying at my place tonight?"

  "Can't," I replied, glum. "Wren's on my back again. I need to keep the peace, which means I need to go home tonight."

  "Oh." Her expression fell. "Okay."

  When we were both inside the cab of my Chevy, I cranked the engine and blew out a shaky breath. Kip Moore's Young Love wafted from the truck stereo, and I turned to look at her. "I'm sorry about that." Embarrassed, I shrugged helplessly. "It won't happen again."

  Unbuckling her seat belt, Molly climbed across the console, not stopping until she was straddling my hips. "Don’t do that," she whispered, small hands cupping my face. "Don’t apologize for being human."

  Exhaling heavily, I let my head fall forward, brow resting against hers. "I need you in my life." Closing my eyes, I took comfort in the feel of her body on mine. "You're the only one that makes the noise in my head stop.”

  "I need you in my life, too, D," she replied, fingers tangling in my hair. Nuzzling her soft cheek against my stubbly one, she peppered my face with soft kisses. "And I'll always be here for you." Her breath fanned my cheek and I shuddered. "Always. I promise."

  God, I hoped so.

  "I need in you," I admitted, voice gruff and torn, as my lips found hers. Starved for the connection that I had only ever found with her, I groaned, "I need inside you so fucking bad, Molls."

  "I'm yours," came her breathy response as her lips dueled with mine. Reaching for the hem of her full-length skirt, she hitched it above her waist. "Take what you need."

  Fuck.

  The minute I tasted her, I knew I couldn’t pull back. Hands roaming over her small curves – curves that I took full credit for putting there – I pulled and tugged on her hips, fingers brushing over the small swell of her stomach, desperate to get closer to her.

  Molly had been wafer thin when we first reconnected, and while she was still tiny in the extreme, she had definitely filled out – courtesy of the food I'd been inconspicuously ramming down her throat at any given opportunity.

  Molly hitched herself up, and I quickly unsnapped the button on my jeans before pushing them down my hips, along with my boxers.

  The moment my dick was free, her hand gripped the shaft, causing my eyes to roll back. "Fuck."

  "I've got you," she whispered, her movements slow and sensual. "I'll take care of you."

  With a precision she had quickly mastered since we started dating, Molly reached for the condom in my wallet and rolled it on with effortless ease.

  I couldn’t deal with it.

  Her.

  My feelings.

  Fuck, I couldn’t take it.

  Pushing her panties to one side, she slowly sank down on my swollen cock; her tight little pussy sucking me deep inside her walls.

  "Fuck," I bit out, hips gyrating upwards as she sank down hard on my dick. "You feel like home."

  "I love you –" Breathing ragged, she kept ahold of my face, pressing her lips to mine as she spoke, "More than you'll ever know."

  Cupping the back of her neck with one
hand, I clamped her hip with the other and upped the pace, hips moving in a frantic rhythm as I chased my demons away, keeping them at bay for one more night.

  39 Molly

  With state right around the corner, Daryl was acting incredibly jittery, and his poorly concealed anxiety seemed to be rubbing off on everyone around him.

  Even Mason Starr, a person I had never seen panic a day in his life, seemed to be feeling the pressure. The only person who didn’t seem to give a damn about the upcoming football game was Rourke, and that was purely because he was too wrapped up in his sensual sparring sessions with his stepsister to care.

  I tried my best to be the calm in the storm that Daryl needed, but when his knees continued to bop restlessly under the table during lunch, and he continued to miss his mouth with his fork, I snapped.

  "You need to relax." Reaching over, I took the fork from his trembling hand and set it down on the table. "You are beyond brilliant, Daryl King. There ain't another quarterback on this side of the country with your talent. Those stupid Covington Cobras don’t have a chance in hell of beating you guys next weekend, so just breathe."

  Shaking out his hands, Daryl leaned back in his chair and expelled a harsh breath. "I know that, Dolly. I know."

  "Good," I replied with a clipped nod. "Then start acting like it."

  "You're a bossy little thing when you wanna be." He turned to look at me, a faint smile ghosting his lips. "Anyone ever tell you that?"

  "My dad," I replied, grinning up at him. "And I'm only bossy when I need to be." Reaching up, I stroked his stubbly jaw with my hand and whispered, "You've got this, D. You're going all the way. And this time next year, I'm gonna be watching you from the stands at Alabama state, where you'll shine even brighter than you do now."

  His eyes blazed with affection. "I don’t know what I'd do without you, Molls."

  "Well, lucky for us, you don’t have to worry about that, huh?" Stretching up, I pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

  "Get a fucking room," Mason groaned, tossing his napkin at Daryl. "Y'all are making me nauseous with all this lovey-dovey shit."

  Everyone at our table laughed and snickered.