Read Online Falling for Seven by T.A Richards Neville - Free Book Online
Authors: T.A Richards Neville
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way.
“Angel,” said Kit, “Get Nicky hard.” I could feel my mouth hanging open. “But you have to do it here, so we can all see that it really happened.”
I’d stupidly expected Jordan to shout out his disapproval of the dare, tell Kit there wasn’t a chance in hell he would watch me do that.
But his outburst of rage never vocalized.
I looked again at him. There was nothing of any substance in his expression. No encouragement, no resistance. Just nothing.
My heart sank when he Okayed it and sat there silent, more than willing to let me get on with it. Jordan had never fought for me a day in his life, and I felt in his own way that he was daring me himself, testing how far he could push me before I was totally broken. Maybe he didn’t really want me like I believed he did. Every fucking time I found myself here with him. This same scenario of feelings only a different circumstance of events. The cloud of doubt had always hung heavy, but it was finally raining the truth that he might not ever truly love me. Not as much as I loved him. And then I was slapped with another home truth.
It didn’t matter.
“Hey, are you crying?” Mia stood over me, peering into my face with a searching gaze.
“No.” I blinked, and two fat tears came loose. I quickly wiped them and smiled when she frowned.
Marilyn chose that exact moment to walk into the room that I shared with Mia. Marilyn had a bedroom to herself. “Don’t tell me,” she said, crossing her arms with a pissed off look on her face. “Jordan, right? I wish you would rub your eyes already and see what the rest of us do.” She lifted her messenger bag over her head, tossing it to the floor and dropped down onto my bed.
“So what has he done now? And do not say nothing or I will kick your ass all over campus. Mia, what did he do?”
Mia scowled. “How am I supposed to know? Do I look like an interfering bitch to you?”
Marilyn’s eyebrows crept higher up onto her forehead. “Did you just call me a bitch?”
Mia rolled her eyes and locked herself in the bathroom.
“So?” Marilyn dug her toes into my outer thigh, creating a blast of pain. “What’s going on?”
The embarrassment of last night was too raw to tell her the truth, so I shifted my leg from her creepy foot and said, “You know how it is. He’s blowing hot and cold constantly, and at the minute things are more on the frosty side.”
“You know you’re in an abusive relationship,” Marilyn stated confidently.
I slid her a disbelieving look. “I am not. This is why I don’t like talking about him to you. You only ever see the bad side.”
“Oh, there’s a good side? Sorry, I never realized.” Her lack of smugness let me know she wasn’t buying a word of it. We might not be blood, but she knew me better than anyone other than my mom. My dad married her mom, Pamela—a Boston native—when I was nine and Marilyn was eleven. The marriage lasted four years but Marilyn and I were for life. Pamela might irritate my dad to death but I loved her as much as I did her daughter.
“He doesn’t always act like what you see. When it’s me and him, it’s different… it feels different.” Marilyn had heard more of Jordan than she had seen him. The times she had been by to visit, not long after I’d moved to Boston, Jordan and I were barely friends. Any judgements she had were purely from my own confessions.
“This is me you are talking to here, Angel. I know what it’s like. You think he’s the be all and end all, the sun rises and sets on his ass, you’ll never find anyone as amazing as him. But if he’s only committed when there’s no one watching, is that really so amazing?”
I scraped two hands down my face. Marilyn’s words resonated with echoes of what I already knew were true. I turned sideways with a slow sigh. “I love him,” I said, pitifully. It was just that simple. “What am I supposed to do? I’m not ready to throw in the towel. He doesn’t do
“Angel,” said Kit, “Get Nicky hard.” I could feel my mouth hanging open. “But you have to do it here, so we can all see that it really happened.”
I’d stupidly expected Jordan to shout out his disapproval of the dare, tell Kit there wasn’t a chance in hell he would watch me do that.
But his outburst of rage never vocalized.
I looked again at him. There was nothing of any substance in his expression. No encouragement, no resistance. Just nothing.
My heart sank when he Okayed it and sat there silent, more than willing to let me get on with it. Jordan had never fought for me a day in his life, and I felt in his own way that he was daring me himself, testing how far he could push me before I was totally broken. Maybe he didn’t really want me like I believed he did. Every fucking time I found myself here with him. This same scenario of feelings only a different circumstance of events. The cloud of doubt had always hung heavy, but it was finally raining the truth that he might not ever truly love me. Not as much as I loved him. And then I was slapped with another home truth.
It didn’t matter.
“Hey, are you crying?” Mia stood over me, peering into my face with a searching gaze.
“No.” I blinked, and two fat tears came loose. I quickly wiped them and smiled when she frowned.
Marilyn chose that exact moment to walk into the room that I shared with Mia. Marilyn had a bedroom to herself. “Don’t tell me,” she said, crossing her arms with a pissed off look on her face. “Jordan, right? I wish you would rub your eyes already and see what the rest of us do.” She lifted her messenger bag over her head, tossing it to the floor and dropped down onto my bed.
“So what has he done now? And do not say nothing or I will kick your ass all over campus. Mia, what did he do?”
Mia scowled. “How am I supposed to know? Do I look like an interfering bitch to you?”
Marilyn’s eyebrows crept higher up onto her forehead. “Did you just call me a bitch?”
Mia rolled her eyes and locked herself in the bathroom.
“So?” Marilyn dug her toes into my outer thigh, creating a blast of pain. “What’s going on?”
The embarrassment of last night was too raw to tell her the truth, so I shifted my leg from her creepy foot and said, “You know how it is. He’s blowing hot and cold constantly, and at the minute things are more on the frosty side.”
“You know you’re in an abusive relationship,” Marilyn stated confidently.
I slid her a disbelieving look. “I am not. This is why I don’t like talking about him to you. You only ever see the bad side.”
“Oh, there’s a good side? Sorry, I never realized.” Her lack of smugness let me know she wasn’t buying a word of it. We might not be blood, but she knew me better than anyone other than my mom. My dad married her mom, Pamela—a Boston native—when I was nine and Marilyn was eleven. The marriage lasted four years but Marilyn and I were for life. Pamela might irritate my dad to death but I loved her as much as I did her daughter.
“He doesn’t always act like what you see. When it’s me and him, it’s different… it feels different.” Marilyn had heard more of Jordan than she had seen him. The times she had been by to visit, not long after I’d moved to Boston, Jordan and I were barely friends. Any judgements she had were purely from my own confessions.
“This is me you are talking to here, Angel. I know what it’s like. You think he’s the be all and end all, the sun rises and sets on his ass, you’ll never find anyone as amazing as him. But if he’s only committed when there’s no one watching, is that really so amazing?”
I scraped two hands down my face. Marilyn’s words resonated with echoes of what I already knew were true. I turned sideways with a slow sigh. “I love him,” I said, pitifully. It was just that simple. “What am I supposed to do? I’m not ready to throw in the towel. He doesn’t do
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