Defiant Princess (Boys of Oak Park Prep #2) - Callie Rose Page 0,60

of him on top of me was like a security blanket, a shield, keeping the whole world out.

I felt sated.

Happy.

Free and wild like the girl in that video had been—the one who’d seemed to be made of water and air, moving like a sprite in the darkness.

Elijah didn’t speak or move for a long time, and I was glad. There were words I didn’t want to hear, things I still wasn’t ready to think about. But he had done what he’d said he would. He’d given me something that didn’t hurt, and I wrapped my arms around him, feeling our bodies move together as we breathed.

When my pulse had slowed a little, he finally rose up onto his forearms. He kissed me again, a soft press of his lips against mine, and then pulled out, holding onto the condom as he did. “Be right back. Again.”

It didn’t take him long to get rid of the condom, and when he came back, he turned the lamp off and crawled onto the cushions beside me, nudging me gently to get me to scoot over and then pulling me toward him, draping my body over his.

My eyelids already felt heavy, the extreme ups and downs of the night making me tired.

“Thank you.” Elijah pressed a kiss to my hair, his voice so soft I almost didn’t hear it. “For trusting me.”

A little shock of worry made my heart beat faster, and I blinked my eyes open.

I had trusted him. Even though I’d wanted this, even though I’d taken something from him as much as he’d taken from me, there were still a million ways he could use this to hurt me. The delicious melted feeling began to vanish from my muscles, a bit of tension returning like a paper-thin barrier going up between us.

As if sensing the change in me, Elijah tilted his head, craning his neck to meet my gaze. Then he wrapped his arms tighter around me and gazed up at the ceiling.

“I got my tattoo last year. My parents weren’t supposed to know, but my dad came to school once and saw me without my shirt on. I got the feathers at the bottom first, actually. I got the first one when I got out of rehab, then another a year later, and another the next year. Then I said fuck it and got the whole thing.”

My eyes widened, my sleepiness vanishing. “Rehab?”

I knew about it already. Went to rehab at age fourteen. But I didn’t know the details, the hows and whys.

“Yeah.” He huffed a breath, swallowing uncomfortably. “My mom caught me doing coke in the bathroom.” When he caught my shocked stare, he looked away. “It’s not like I was doing it all the time. I wasn’t addicted. But my parents couldn’t have a son who was less than perfect, so they sent me to rehab, the whole nine yards.”

I wanted to say something, but I was afraid if I did, he’d stop talking, so I just kept quiet and listened.

“I started messing around with drugs when I stopped playing guitar. I loved playing, but my parents said it was beneath me. They let me do it when I was younger, but as soon as it was time for me to ‘be a man’, my mom took all my guitars and broke them.” His voice twisted with anger. “She didn’t even fucking sell them, so at least someone else could use them. She just destroyed them.”

“But if you were sneaking around doing coke, why didn’t you just sneak around to play your music?”

He laughed softly. “The drugs were easier to hide. And they made me feel better about… everything.” His grip on me tightened. “I didn’t want any of this. And I know that’s a privileged thing to say—but from the minute I was born, my whole life plan was laid out for me. I haven’t gotten to decide any of it. None of what I want matters. Sometimes I feel like my mom broke me when she broke my guitars. Like she just snapped me into pieces and rebuilt me into the perfect son.”

I rolled over onto him a little more, resting my chin on his chest so I could gaze up at him.

“Maybe that’s why I started doing harder drugs. It was a way of breaking the mold they wanted to put me in without them even knowing.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course, I wasn’t breaking the mold. I didn’t find out till later, but