Ruthless Knight: A Standalone Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Royal Hearts Academy) Read online

  “What? Are you trying to get into my pants because my brother won’t let you into his?” Eyes trained on me now, she snorts. “Trust me, there’s not enough alcohol or desperation in the world to let you eat my pussy tonight. Like my brother, I also have standards.” She smiles smugly. “Dime piece or better, sweetie. Unfortunately for you, you’re about five cents too short.”

  Wow…yeah. Fuck her.

  Some people are just rotten to the core.

  “It’s a real shame God wasted such beauty on a wicked witch like you.” I brush past her, but pause when it occurs to me. “You said Cole doesn’t give a shit about you being here.”

  Her lips twist into a scowl. “Yeah, and?”

  I hold up my cell. “I was just about to call Dylan—you know, Jace’s girlfriend. I wasn’t going to mention you were here, but—”

  “Fine, you win. Meet me in the bathroom in five.”

  I blink. “Wait, what? Why?”

  “Why do you think?”

  My eyes widen in shock at her innuendo and she bites back a smirk. “Jesus. You should see your face right now. No wonder Cole loves fucking with you.” Pulling her compact out of her purse, she applies some lip gloss and sighs. “Here’s tip number two of the night. If you’re going to go through the trouble of threatening someone, make sure you at least get something good out of it.” Appearing satisfied, she flutters her fingers in a dainty wave and winks. “My cunt turns into a pumpkin at midnight, so I suggest you find me before then if you change your mind.”

  I can’t tell if she seriously propositioned me or if she’s screwing with me. Not that it matters, it’s still a hard pass.

  Even if I was into girls, she’d be so far down my list of acceptable choices, I’d probably die of old age before I got to her.

  My phone vibrates, and my grim mood dissipates when I see Dylan’s name flash across the screen.

  I answer on the first ring. “Great minds think alike. I was just about to call you.”

  Dylan says something, but the music is so loud I can’t hear her. “Wait, hold on.”

  Thinking quick, I hustle up the staircase. Evidently the bedrooms on the second floor are used for couples who want to bang, but I manage to find an empty one at the end of the hall.

  “Sorry.” Not bothering to turn on the light, I plop down on the still made bed. “I had to go upstairs so I could hear you. What were you saying?”

  “I was going to ask if you decided to go to Christian’s to meet up with Oakley, but the music and people in the background kind of answered my question.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  I’m debating how to break it to her that I couldn’t formulate her cousin’s tutoring schedule because he’s shitfaced and hooking up with Morgan, but then she says, “Uh-oh. What’s wrong? Are you okay? Do you need me—”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “Liar.”

  I hate how perceptive she is. Almost as much as I hate that she graduated last year and I’m all alone in this hellhole again.

  “Look, I tried, but I couldn’t nail down a schedule with Oakley. He was too busy getting drunk and playing tonsil hockey with Morgan.”

  “What?” She groans. “Crap. I’m sorry. We talked this morning and he swore he was serious about getting his act together.”

  Like me, Dylan gives most people the benefit of the doubt.

  “It’s not your fault. I’m sure he’ll call me tomorrow and apologize.”

  “He better. Or he’ll be dealing with me. I don’t want to see him screw up his life. He has to graduate this year.”

  Agreed. Oakley’s a great guy with tons of potential…he’s just caught up in a bad spiral. But I know with enough persistence, Dylan and I can pull him out of it and get him back on the right track.

  “Don’t worry. The first week of school just ended today. Between the two of us, I’m sure we’ll get through to him.”

  Hopefully sooner rather than later.

  She sighs. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for keeping an eye on him for me. I know you have your own shit…wait…that reminds me. What are you doing tomorrow night?”

  “Tomorrow is Saturday…so you know, the usual. Nothing.”

  “Good. How about a sleepover at my place? I figure we can eat loads of carbs, you can fill me in on the latest RHA gossip, and we can binge watch a few eighties movies.”

  Sounds like paradise, but I don’t want to intrude. Or worse…be the third wheel.

  I won’t ever tell her this, because I’m honestly thrilled she ended up with her soulmate and all, but it really sucks that it happens to be Jace Covington.

  Cole and Bianca’s older brother.

  Although, as far as the devil’s triangle of siblings goes, he’s the best of the trio.

  Well…now. He wasn’t always so nice to Dylan due to a tragic misunderstanding that ripped their former friendship apart.

  Fortunately, he wised up, pulled his head out of his ass, and treats her like gold now.

  So much so, it’s equally nauseating and inspiring how in love they are. Jace doesn’t leave a room without checking how Dylan is or seeing if she needs anything...and they freaking live together.

  The boy literally worships the ground she walks on.

  And these days Dylan smiles so much that—according to my mother—she’s going to have some serious laugh lines and crow’s feet by the time she’s twenty-five.

  I hope like hell she’s right. I want my friend to always be as happy as she is now.

  However, I don’t want to impose on the cheerful couple’s honeymoon stage.

  Especially since Dylan let it slip that Jace devotes just as much attention to her in the bedroom as he does outside of it.

  “Are you sure your boyfriend won’t mind me spending the night?”

  “Are you kidding? Not only does Jace know to never intrude on my girl time with you, he’s been working his ass off finishing Z.I. part two and I know he’ll secretly be relieved I’m distracted.”

  “As opposed to being dick-stracted?”

  Her laughter fills my ears. “And that right there is just one reason you have to come over. It’s been ten days since we’ve hung out and I’m going through Sawyer withdrawals. I can’t wait until we go to the same school again.”

  My stomach knots. “That might not happen…it all depends on if Duke’s grants me a scholarship or not.”

  Duke’s Heart is extremely competitive. You either need to have the money or the brains to get accepted…and they usually prefer both.

  I only have one to offer them…and I’m afraid it won’t be enough.

  Nothing I have to offer ever is.

  “Hey,” Dylan snaps. “You are one of the smartest, greatest people I know, Sawyer Church. Duke’s would be lucky to have someone like you and they should be groveling at your feet for the chance. I know you’re going to nail this application essay as well as your SATs. You, my friend, are going places. Big places. Church is in session and the world better prepare itself.”

  I’m the one who’s laughing now. “Wow, that was one hell of a motivational speech. Did you think that up on the fly?”

  “Yes, but I meant every word.” She exhales sharply. “I might also be taking a class on marketing and how to pull in potential clients…or in my case, alternative rock bands. Did it work?”

  I tell her the truth. “Totally. Where do I sign?”

  “Well, if you would finally agree to let the world hear your beautiful voice—”

  I stop her right there. “Sorry, I’m going through a tunnel, bad reception. Love you, can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

  I hang up before she can protest. Ever since she caught me singing during a car ride this summer, she’s been on my case about it.

  But I only sing at church, along with a choir, because it’s where I’m most comfortable.

  I don’t have the confidence to sing for anyone else but God, because he’s the only one who won’t criticize my appearance.

  Th
e world doesn’t take kindly to fat girls. The cold, hard truth is something my mother drilled into my head the moment the scale deemed me overweight back in sixth grade.

  It would be a waste and I’d embarrass myself for even trying to put myself out there. Unless I lost fifty pounds first.

  Unfortunately for me, losing weight is easier said than done.

  I might be good at some things…but dieting has never been one of them.

  Adjusting myself on the bed, I close my eyes and sigh.

  Sometimes I envision a world where I’m pretty and thin and have all the opportunities attractive people do.

  Then there are other times where my thoughts turn dark, and I secretly wish I could make every cute boy and every mean girl who ever made fun of me eat their words and choke on their insults.

  But mostly? I just want to be able to look in the mirror and be happy with what I see staring back at me.

  I want to know what it’s like to feel like I’m enough.

  Don’t get me wrong, my self-esteem isn’t so low that I hate myself. Quite the contrary, I like who I am and know I’m a great person on the inside. I’m a hard worker, I’d give anyone in need the shirt off my back—or the extra ones I keep with me—and I have a sarcastic, stellar personality…but those qualities aren’t enough for the world.

  Spend five seconds on social media and you’ll quickly find out that the worst thing you can be…is fat.

  Spend ten seconds in a room with my mother or older sister and you’ll realize how poorly you measure up to the perfect beauty queens.

  I’m the proverbial round peg forever trying to fit inside a square hole…desperately trying to make my outside match my inside.

  It’s a silent battle and the screaming demon I stuff down and keep to myself…because no one likes a Negative Nancy or a Debbie Downer.

  No one likes when the fat girl talks about how miserable she is or how upset it makes her to be made fun of.

  How much she wishes she was thin.

  Because deep down…the attractive, slim people are judging you for putting yourself in the position you’re in.

  Their mind is firing off thoughts like, ‘If she’s so unhappy, she should do something about it.’ Or— ‘If she would stop being lazy and work out and eat right, she’d lose the weight.’ And my new favorite, ‘She should try the new keto diet or get that lap band surgery.’

  Maybe fat people don’t want to go on a new fad diet or have surgery.

  Maybe going to the gym gives fat people an anxiety attack and causes them to give up before they even start…because half the people there are looking at us like we’re a fish out of water. While the other half are wondering how long we’ll last before we give up and head for the nearest McDonald’s.

  Maybe fat people just want to be accepted…flaws and all.

  Just like the rest of society.

  And maybe, just maybe—people should stop judging us.

  Because every fat person will tell you…no one judges us harder than we judge ourselves.

  We know exactly what that mirror is reflecting.

  Every extra pound we shouldn’t have.

  Every tear we’ve secretly shed in frustration and sadness.

  Every diet we’ve tried, but ultimately failed at.

  Every fear and insecurity plaguing us.

  Every expectation we’ll never measure up to.

  And it sucks.

  If I could wish for anything in the world…after world peace, curing poverty, and getting rid of racist and homophobic assholes…

  I’d wish to be thin and pretty.

  No more stress. No more failed expectations. No more judgment.

  For once, people would look at me because I was beautiful…instead of looking at me and thinking, she’d be beautiful if she lost weight.

  But desiring something like that is pointless…because those kinds of wishes don’t come true for girls like me.

  There are no knights in shining armor waiting to whisk us off into the sunset so we can live happily ever after.

  The knights in shining armor don’t want us.

  They want the pretty, tiny cheerleaders like Casey, Morgan, and Bianca.

  Girls like me have to dig deep and find a way to be content with whatever box humanity decides to put us in and learn to accept far less than we deserve.

  Because that’s all we’re cut out for.

  I’m so preoccupied with my own pity party, I don’t hear the door open until it’s too late and a tall, muscular figure is staggering into the bedroom.

  Alone.

  Well, not really…given I’m still lying on the bed and all.

  “Sorry…um. Occupied.”

  Good job, Sawyer. You just told mystery dude you were having some self-love time.

  He mumbles something incoherent, but I’d know that voice anywhere.

  Cole Covington.

  Before the shock can set in, he plops down on the bed.

  A few inches to the right and he would have landed on top of me, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is why he’s here in the first place.

  Lying on a bed…with me. In the middle of a party.

  “Cole.”

  “Hi.”

  Really? “Hi.”

  I tilt my face to look at him, but it’s a bad idea because even in the shadows, he’s so gorgeous it should be a crime. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” he slurs.

  Well, shit. “Want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  Okay then.

  Neither of us says another word for what feels like forever as we stare up at the ceiling.

  I search my brain for a kernel of something that might help him, but it’s near impossible, since I have no idea what’s wrong.

  This too shall pass. It’s something my nanna used to say whenever I was going through hard times.

  However, I don’t get the chance to tell him that, because he grinds out, “It’s my birthday…I think.” He draws in a shaky breath. “Is it the twenty-first yet?”

  I’m perplexed as to why he’d be so upset about turning eighteen—and the fact his birthday is in August instead of November like I always thought—but then I remember his twin brother died a few years ago.

  I look at the clock on the nightstand. It’s twelve a.m. On the dot.

  I’d wish him a happy birthday, but I’m not heartless.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper instead.

  I honestly don’t know what else to say. I’m not sure there is anything else to say considering the situation.

  He snorts. “Guess that would make one of us. Huh?”

  I have no idea what he means by that, but I don’t want to press, so I clamp my mouth shut.

  Cole and I have always had a strange…thing.

  It’s no secret we’re not exactly friends, but he takes it one step further by flirting and saying stuff he knows will push my buttons.

  He was so convincing, it got to the point I thought he might actually be interested in me last year…but then Casey happened.

  Casey’s the cheer captain, and the new head bitch in charge at Royal Hearts Academy.

  She’s also the girl I beat up at a party last year for calling me fat.

  Actually, fat would have been preferable. The girl said such vile, nasty things, I’m not sure there’s enough praying me or anyone else can do to save her disgusting soul.

  Cole was there when it happened, and it was clear he didn’t approve of what she said. In fact, he looked downright repulsed by her.

  For the briefest of moments, I thought I saw something in him…something noble and righteous.

  But then he started ignoring me and dating her.

  We haven’t spoken much since. Except tonight apparently.

  “It’s bullshit,” he slurs into the darkness.

  It’s not much, but I’ll take it. “What is?”

  “Everything.”

  There’s so much pain contained in that one word my heart drop
s.

  I hate that I don’t know the right words to say to make it better.

  Then again, maybe Cole doesn’t need someone to fix his problems.

  Perhaps he just needs someone to listen to them.

  Ignoring the tiny voice in my head screaming that what I’m about to do is the equivalent of poking a tiger who very well might turn around and maul me…I reach for his hand.

  A sharp exhale escapes him the moment we make contact, but to my surprise, he doesn’t pull away.

  He squeezes my hand like he’s drowning…and I’m his lifeline.

  “No one is who they pretend to be.”

  Peeling my stare from the ceiling, I look at him. “How so?”

  “Everyone is fake,” he clarifies. “No one is real. We’re all sheep…following each other around in circles…going nowhere.”

  As depressing as that thought is, he’s not exactly wrong. The world is full of more phony people than genuine.

  “Everyone is so fucking fake,” he repeats. “Including me.”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him he’s being real right now, but his next statement makes my breath catch.

  “I’ve only met one person who doesn’t pretend to be someone they’re not.”

  “Who?”

  Butterflies swarm in my belly when his lips twitch and those intense green eyes zero in on me.

  “My favorite Bible Thumper.”

  I’m torn between wanting to smack him and wanting to smile because I’m his favorite anything.

  “Asshole.”

  He grins and heaven help me, because I’m so screwed.

  I used to roll my eyes at girls who claimed they couldn’t control themselves in the presence of cute guys and therefore made dumb decisions.

  Turns out karma isn’t always a bitch. Sometimes she’s a devastatingly good-looking quarterback with cheekbones so sharp they’d cut glass, green eyes so piercing you seriously wonder if he’s part wolf, and a lean, muscular body that makes me…

  Get a damn grip, Sawyer.

  “I am an asshole.” Shifting, Cole turns his body toward mine. “And if you’re half as smart as I think you are, you’d get off this bed and walk away.”

  My antagonist’s threats don’t scare me. “Why would I do that?”

  His gaze darkens. “Because your precious God might end up revoking your ticket to Heaven if you stay here any longer.”