Chapter Fifty Eight

Aspen

It’s good to see Lincoln smiling and joking. And for the first time in several days, it doesn’t look like it’s forced.
I know that he and Raleigh are going through a difficult time, and after everything else, it hurts me to see their relationship strained, especially right now—this should be a happy time for them. And I’m trying to respect their privacy, but I hate seeing them both like this.
Raleigh assured me that the baby was okay, that that wasn’t what was going on, which most definitely is a relief, but I want more than anything to be there for her like she was for me. To be there for him like I should have let him be when I needed the support.
As I make my way down the hall flanked by the four Jones brothers, people stare, point, gasp, and whisper.
*What is everyone’s deal today? My being back couldn’t be that big of a deal.*
“What’s going on?” I ask quietly so that the other students won’t hear but still just loud enough that the boys will be able to. “Why is everyone staring?”
A hand wraps around my upper arm, gently guiding me down a hallway much less crowded than the one we had just been in. Boston has his back to the wall and I’m standing in front of him, his arms resting on my hips, and my back to any other students making their way down the hallway.
“So―”
“Well, if it isn’t the brother fucker!” I high pitched, nasally voice says. Turning around, I find Whitney standing in the middle of the hallway, the rest of the cheer squad flanking her, taking up the majority of the previously nearly empty hallway.
“What did you just say?” I ask through clenched teeth, my eyes narrowed as I take a step toward the head cheer bitch.
“Oh, don’t play dumb.” She replies, sighing dramatically and rolling her eyes. “We *all* know that the two of you are fucking.”
“Cut the shit, Whitney,” Boston demands, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “We haven’t exactly been hiding the fact that we’re together. So, what are you playing at?”
“Maybe not,” she says, an evil smile on her face, “but, you did hide the fact that she’s your sister from everyone.”
“Me and my mom ran into your dad at the store, and he was more than happy to tell us about how Aspen and her mom had moved back in with you guys this past weekend. Imagine my surprise to learn that *your* mom,” she says, pointing at me, “and *your* dad” she says, now pointing at Boston, “are married. Which, correct me if I’m wrong, but wouldn’t that make you two *brother* and *sister*?”
“Step,” Jackson says, stepping up next to us, surprising the shit out of me since I thought that he was pissed at me. “They haven’t done anything wrong.”
“It’s disgusting!” Whitney shouts, no doubt on purpose, ensuring that she has the attention of all of the other students crowding the hallways.
“Sister?” A girl's voice asks. When Brooklyn steps through the crowd of students, coming to a stop next to me, I fight to hold back my grin at seeing my friend. “Oh, come on. This is 2022, not 1922. They only met six months ago. It’s not like they grew up together, then started fucking. You’re just jealous that it’s not *you* warming his bed every night.” I smile at my friend, forever grateful for her support and friendship. “You’re just lucky as fuck that you’re not rotting in a jail cell right along with Mallory after helping her with roofying Boston at that party.”
At the mention of that night, my stomach turns, remembering how that night had been just the very beginning of the nightmare that had come after. Boston tightens his hold on my shoulders as he tries to comfort me, knowing how hurt I had been when I thought that he had cheated on me.
“Oh, fuck off, Brooklyn! Nobody asked for your opinion.” Whitney scoffs.
“Watch your fucking mouth!” Jackson bellows, stepping up to Whitney and getting in her face. His defense of Brooklyn surprises me, causing me to look between the two of them as I try to figure out if maybe something is going on there, or if he’s just standing up for my friend.
Whitney’s face turns beat red, and she opens her mouth to say something, then closes it, then opens it again, reminding me of a fish. The mental image that pops into my head causes me to snort as I try to hold in my laughter. This is definitely not the time for me to bust out laughing. Whitney must think better of saying something because eventually, she stops opening and closing her mouth, and instead, she shrieks and stomps her foot like a child, before turning around and pushing her way through the crowd of people standing in the hallway as they snicker or haul insults toward her as she passes.
“She is such a bitch,” Brooklyn growls under her breath as she turns back towards me, her face lighting up with excitement, a huge smile plastered on her face as she closes the distance between us and wraps her arms around me, “I’m so happy to have you back―not that talking to you on the phone or making road trips with the other girls wasn’t fun but―you’re back!” She squeals the last two words excitedly, with her arms lifted, shaking her invisible pompoms as she jumps around.
“Thank you! It’s good to be back.” I tell her honestly, “Well, I could do without Whitney and her merry band of bitches, but yeah…”
“Forgive me if I’m mistaken,” Dallas says with a devious glint in his eyes, “but didn’t *you* used to be a part of her *merry band of bitches*?”
“Oh, fuck off, *Death*!” I spit, bringing my left hand to my mouth and biting the tip of my middle finger, flipping him off.
All of the guys cut up in laughter, but Brooklyn has a confused look on her face as she glances between Dallas and me, then says, “Death?”
“Yeah.” I tell her with a cheeky smile, “On my first day of school, I referred to them as the Four Horsemen because they had been complete assholes to me.”
“But we’ve since given up our asshole ways,” Lincoln says in a serious tone.
“Speak for your reformed ass,” Jackson says, casting his eyes over to me and pinning me with a glare.
*Clearly, he’s still pissed after all.*
“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath, but still loud enough that I know that they can hear me. Everyone but Jackson begins laughing again, but he does at least have a grin on his face when I turn my attention from them to Boston, “I still need to go to the office and get my schedule and locker number.”
“I’ll go with you,” he tells me, trailing his hand down the length of my arm until he reaches my hand, then threading his fingers through mine.
“You don’t have to, you have class,” I tell him, popping up on my toes to give him a chaste kiss. When we break apart and I’m back flat on my feet, he graces me with a smile, his dimple peeking out at me.
“I know that I don’t *have* to, babe. But, I *want* to. It’s fine.” He then turns to his brothers and Brooklyn, “We’re going to go to the office to get Aspen's schedule and stuff. I’ll catch you guys later. Brooklyn,” he says, nodding his head at her, “Thank you.” Once he’s said that, he brings our hands to his lips, placing a kiss on my knuckles.
“Any time. She’s my girl.” Brooklyn tells Boston, throwing me a wink. I grin back at her and then pull on Boston’s hand as the first bell rings.
“Okay, let’s go,” I tell him, taking a step in the direction of the office. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and still be in all of the same classes as I had been before.”
“You just want me where you can keep an eye on me,” Boston says as he backs me up against a row of lockers, pinning me against them with his hips. “I want you in all of the same classes so that I can slip you dirty notes, telling you about all of the filthy things that I want to do to you as soon as we get back home.” As he says this, he thrusts his hips against me, letting me feel that he’s turned on and wants me.
“You’re insatiable,” I murmur as I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and pull him down, crashing my lips against his in a needy kiss.
“Only for you, baby.” He responds, rocking his cock against me one more time. His voice is low and husky when he asks, “ Do you think anyone would notice if we skipped out of first period? I need to feel you again.”
“You just had me this morning,” I say, and then gasp when he reaches up and pinches my nipple through my bra.
“It wasn’t enough. With you, it will *never* be enough.”