Never His Girl: Dark High School Bully Romance (Kings of Cypress Pointe Book 2)
Never His Girl: Chapter 37

WEST

It’s been over a year since I laid eyes on her—this girl who changed my life in too many ways to count. We learned one of the hardest lessons of our lives together.

That being young doesn’t mean we’re invincible.

Now, here I sit, hours from home, waiting in some hipster coffee shop for her to walk through the door. Every time the chime sounds over the entrance, I peer up, thinking it’ll be her, but it hasn’t been so far. Just strangers coming and going.

There’s a not-so-small part of me that thinks Casey might not show at all, seeing as how we haven’t talked in months. And even then, the conversation was awkward as hell.

Somehow, I missed that it was supposed to snow today. With it coming down so hard, it isn’t lost on me that she’s got even more reason to stand me up. But no sooner than the thought enters my head, I spot her rushing down the sidewalk. The raven-haired girl hugging herself to keep warm as the wind blows.

This time, when the chime rings, I’m already looking that way, praying this goes well. She huffs warm air into her hands while searching every corner of the café. It isn’t until I stand that she spots me. Our eyes lock, then I’m greeted with a warm smile as she walks over, shrugging out of her coat.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she says back, clearly nervous to be here. For good reason, I guess. Being asked to meet me must’ve seemed random.

“Long time no see.”

She removes the mustard-colored scarf and hat while answering. “Yeah, it’s been a while.”

Eventually, she meets my gaze and stares for a bit. I do the same, realizing how much her features had faded from memory, but they’re coming back to me now. Something else I notice is that she’s thinner than the last time we met in person. It’s possible there isn’t much to it, but I can’t help but wonder if the change has something to do with our shared past still weighing on her. Like it had all those months ago.

“Dad and I tuned in to the championship game,” she says with a dim smile, lowering into the seat across from mine.

“Yeah, it was a close one.”

“Close? Kind of an understatement,” she adds with a reserved laugh. “But I think it was that Hail Mary you threw that really killed us.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?”

She shrugs at that. “Maybe. But even desperate, the throw was clearly calculated, which is why my father can’t wait to get his hands on you next season.”

Hearing that is bittersweet. Hopefully, once the truth comes to light, he won’t change his stance on that.

“Been a while since we talked. What’s new?” I ask.

“Not much time for ‘new’,” she answers. “If I’m not working, I’m at school, and vice versa.”

We’re interrupted briefly when a waiter approaches our table and we order, keeping it light with two coffees and a couple turnovers. But I’m aware of how Casey’s eyes dart around while she thinks I’m distracted. She’s checked over her shoulder twice, and even jumped a little when the chime over the door sounded a moment ago.

The waiter leaves and it’s just us again.

“Well, I’d ask what you’ve been up to, but from what I hear, NewGirl’s keeping you on your toes,” she teases, making me focus less on her odd behavior.

“You caught that, huh? Guess that means you’re still following Pandora’s bullshit.”

She shrugs. “Some might argue that if I’d followed her sooner, I might’ve avoided a bit of heartache back in the day.”

The reference to our past dampens the mood a bit, but she isn’t wrong. If one had known who the other was, we would’ve avoided crossing paths that night last year.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

Two mugs are set on the table in front of us, then a basket with two cherry turnovers in the middle. Casey does that thing when she glances over her shoulder again, but it’s more subtle this time. The waitress leaves and Casey’s brow quirks while she sips her coffee.

“Got you a south side girl, huh? Your parents good with that?”

I know she isn’t so much asking about my mother’s reaction, but more so my father’s.

“Who gives a shit what he thinks.”

“Same old West, I see,” she says with a smile. “I only ask because I know your dad’s big on image—yours, your family’s.”

Fuck him and all that superficial shit.

I bite into the pastry and somehow manage not to say those words out loud, but I do sense that Casey has another question.

“From what I’ve seen, you and NewGirl seem to be getting pretty serious,” she comments. “You know, now that she’s forgiven you for the whole… sex tape thing.”

I breathe deep when she mentions it, hoping my damn face isn’t red right now. Probably is, though.

Shit.

“You don’t miss much, do you?” I ask with a laugh.

She smiles back. “Nope. Not much. Didn’t miss the ‘I swear I’m not a douchebag’ campaign you put on to win her back, either.”

Shaking my head, I shrug. “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” I say again. Only, this time I’m not talking about a football play, but rather a play of the heart.

Casey smiles, stirring cream into her mug, and she seems lighter now. At least a little.

“You’re serious about this one, aren’t you? It’s not like with Parker?”

“It’s nothing like it was with Parker,” I answer.

“Hm,” she says thoughtfully.

I think back to my night with Southside, and don’t realize I’m smiling a little until Casey calls me out on it.

“What’s that about?” she asks, gesturing toward me with her spoon.

At first, I start to dismiss the question altogether, but she already knows so much. Thanks to Pandora.

“Dropped the ‘L’ word for the first time last night,” I confess.

“Like, first time with her? Or first time ever?”

“Ever,” I reveal.

Her mouth falls open. “Damn. It is serious.”

I nod, knowing ‘serious’ doesn’t even come close to describing me and Southside. That girl has me knee-deep in feelings I didn’t even know I could have.

“Well, I’m ecstatic for you. I hope you know I mean that.”

Her stare lingers a bit after speaking, but the cheeky grin she wears is starting to fade.

“Anyway,” she sighs, “what’s the plan for next year? Your girl attending NCU with you?”

“Nope, Cypress Valley.”

“Cool. Still super close,” she concludes, which I don’t disagree with. Having Southside at a school within ten miles is the next best thing to having her right on campus.

We enter a stretch of silence that’s not so much awkward, but it’s enough that the reality of how Casey and I are connected creeps back into this space. Sitting before me now, she’s notably less carefree than I remember, sort of withdrawn. I’m wondering if she ever really bounced back. There were some dark days to face after the decision she made, and she chose to face them alone.

That phone call from her is one I’ll never forget, hearing her cry uncontrollably into the receiver, questioning her worth, her sanity. She vented to me about things I don’t even think she meant to share. Because, despite our circumstances, we weren’t close. At the time, we hadn’t known one another long enough for that. I was just the guy she’d been careless with, and the result tied us to one another in unexpected ways.

“You’re really okay?” I ask when I feel like I have to.

She focuses after snapping out of a daydream, putting on a weak smile I’m starting to think is just a mask.

“I am,” she insists.

“Being honest, I’m not always,” I admit, feeling no shame in saying it.

Her gaze lowers then, as she spins her mug aimlessly on the surface of the table.

“I’ve made peace with things. Mostly, because I understand there wasn’t any other way. I did what was best for both of us,” she concludes, finally meeting my gaze again.

Things go quiet between us, like they were a moment ago, and there’s no sense in beating around the bush at this point.

“I’m sure you know I didn’t come here just to catch up.”

She nods and her gaze shifts toward the frosted window again. “Kind of figured that.”

Being up front about shit is still new to me, so I have yet to master the art of finessing my way into a conversation. So, until I get that right, I just kind of blurt things out as they come to me.

“The night of your nineteenth birthday party, do you remember talking to Parker? Telling her what happened between us?”

Casey’s dark eyes flash toward me and she nods. That’s when I see the guilt in them.

“I fucked up,” she admits. “I should’ve called and given you a heads up, but I just—”

“I’m not angry,” I cut in.

“I was drinking and I was having a moment and… I just kind of spilled my guts.”

She sounds ashamed, but she shouldn’t be. We’ve all fucked up before, so I don’t hold this against her.

“You don’t have to explain,” I say, holding her gaze until I’m positive she knows I mean that.

Having gotten the message, she eventually nods.

“Only reason I even brought it up is so you understand what I’m about to tell you,” I explain. “Parker’s using that info as leverage, using it to keep me quiet about the shit she pulled with the video.”

“That was her?”

I nod once. “It was, and she said that if I snitch on her, she’ll expose what happened between me and you.”

“Of course she did.” Casey leans back in her seat to think.

She and Parker have been acquaintances for years because of dance, but never quite friendly. Actually, I don’t know that anyone would classify Parker as good friend material.

“All of this kind of brings me to why I’m here today,” I share. “I thought I’d be able to find a way around it, but the only way to shut Parker down is to steal her leverage. And the only way to do that is to own my shit, come clean about the past to your father. Then, there’s nothing else that bitch can hold over my head. Once that’s behind me, I can let Harrison know that Parker was the one who—”

“West, you can’t do that,” Casey cuts in. “You can do whatever you need to as far as Parker and the video, but the part about us? That can’t get out.”

My brow quirks with the explanation, but there’s an intense look of concern on her face that I don’t immediately know how to read. I mean, I expected a bit of pushback, considering that what I’ve just proposed will affect her, too, but during the hours long drive up here tonight, I worked out how I’d handle it.

“Casey, I get that you want to keep this from your dad, and trust me, I kind of want that too, but Parker’s gonna fucking expose us either way. Wouldn’t it be better if we got to tell the story ourselves?”

Her eyes bounce toward the window again and she’s hard to read.

“I haven’t been concerned about my dad finding out for a while now,” she confesses, still staring off down the street. “Of course, when it all first happened, I was terrified to see how things would play out if he knew, but I’m kind of past that now.”

“Then what the hell is it? Why not get out in front of this?”

She meets my gaze again and my mind and heart are both racing.

“You really don’t know, do you?” Her eyes narrow when asking. Like she’s questioning the hell out of everything I’ve just said.

Frustration rises to my chest and I’m more tense than before, feeling like I’m missing something. Or everything.

“What the fuck aren’t you saying?” I snap. No, I’m not pissed at her, just tired of no one giving me straight answers.

She glances down at the table for a moment before doing that sketchy thing where she checks over her shoulder again.

“Look, if you’re worried about Parker telling about us, all that matters is that she’s not a problem anymore.”

The tension in my chest spreads to my face. “What do you mean Parker isn’t a problem anymore?”

Casey’s eyes are set on mine, and with how heavy she’s breathing, I sense her concern with having said too much. It confirms this suspicion when she looks down at the table, instead of at me.

“Listen, maybe he didn’t tell you for a reason, so I should just—”

“He who?”

Her hands are trembling. Not hard, but enough to notice.

“I thought you were here on damage control,” she says quietly, still not answering the question. “I thought you were in on it, following up to make sure I understood the terms your dad laid out for me.”

A burst of heat spreads up from my neck, right to my face.

“What the fuck are you talking about? Vin was here?”

Casey doesn’t speak, but that fearful look in her eyes tells me all I need to know.

“When?”

She’s fidgeting and maybe thinking about not answering.

“It was a couple days before your game.”

I fall back against my seat, trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

“He had me sign an NDA his lawyer drafted, agreeing not to disclose what happened between us. And… he also came with his checkbook,” she reveals.

She sounds ashamed admitting that she also took his money, but all I really care about is what the fuck is going on.

“None of this means Parker isn’t a problem,” I point out.

“Actually, it does,” Casey counters. “Your dad asked if she was the only person I told. When I said I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone else, he said he’d already taken care of that, made her the same deal he made me.”

My head spins, and I’m thinking back to Friday, to Parker trying to tell me something at the club. I ignored her, but now I’m at least sure I know what was so urgent.

Pandora’s latest PrincessParker update is also starting to make sense. The bitch hasn’t been at school these past two days. Instead, she’s been spotted spending some major cash. Guess I know where it came from.

Casey’s on edge now, fidgeting a bit. Meanwhile, I’m just trying to understand it all, and also trying to decide which of my many questions she’ll actually answer.

“I feel like the signs are all around me and I’m still missing everything,” I admit

She’s grown visibly uncomfortable with how much she’s told me. I know as much when she sighs and starts gathering her things.

“This was a bad idea. Had I known you weren’t already aware of things, I wouldn’t have even—”

“Casey, please.”

I catch her wrist just as she stands, causing her eyes to land on me.

“I’ve been searching for answers about my dad for a long time and, no, that had nothing to do with coming to see you today, but if you think you know something—anything—that can help me, I’m kind of desperate at this point.”

There’s no immediate response, but I see her softening.

“Not here,” she says quietly. “Outside.”

Her eyes dart toward the door and, after I drop a twenty on the table to cover the cost of what we ordered and the tip, I follow her out to the sidewalk, shrugging into my coat.

“I know you don’t have all the answers, but do you know anything about what my dad’s into?” I rush to say, breathing into the freezing cold air.

She lifts her eyes. “I’m sorry, West. I wish I knew more,” she sighs. “All I can tell you is that not many people scare me, but your father is definitely on that very short list.”

There isn’t even a hint she’s joking about that.

“Ever since he came here, I swear I’m being watched. Granted, it’s entirely possible the man just gives me the creeps and I’m imagining it all,” she says with a faint laugh, “but something just feels… off.”

She leaves it at that, and I don’t doubt for one second that Vin’s capable of this shady shit. Sounds just like him, actually.

My brow tenses, thinking of something that doesn’t quite add up.

“No way he pulled the info about you and me out of thin air, so… how’d he know? About that? About Parker?” I ask these questions as my festering hatred for my father grows just a little more.

It doesn’t surprise me when Casey shrugs. I’m beginning to see she’s just as clueless about things as I am.

“No idea,” she answers, “but with all due respect… if I were you, I wouldn’t trust him. Like, not even a little bit.”

It’s like she read my thoughts.

I’m caught off guard when she leans in and squeezes me tight around my neck.

“Take care of yourself, and take care of NewGirl,” she says close to my ear. “I know you want answers, and I wish I had them for you, but sometimes… ignorance is bliss, West.”

With that, she releases me and I’m staring at her back as she puts distance between us. With the heavy snow, it isn’t long before I can’t make her out from anyone else walking in the crowd tonight, and that’s kind of how I’m feeling right now.

Like I can’t see my father’s identity, can’t tell the truth from a lie.

At this point, all I know is that my world is a whole hell of a lot more twisted than I realized.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

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