Stolen Wishes by Lexi Ryan Read Free Book Online

asks.
    “The one that says the quarterback is
supposed to date the head cheerleader?”
    “Hmm. I’ve dated a cheerleader before. It’s
pretty much overrated. Though”—he drops his gaze to my legs—“I
wouldn’t complain if you wanted to wear the uniform.”
    I swat him, and my hand stings when it
connects with his solid chest. “Ouch.”
    “That’ll teach you to hit me.”
    I giggle, then admit, “I like that
idea.”
    “Oh, the uniform.”
    “No,” I squeak. “Of…being your girl. But I
need to tell you something first.”
    He brushes my hair from my face and traces
the line of my jaw, his eyes following his finger. “What’s
that?”
    “That night Kenny was harassing me at the
stadium?”
    His body tenses. “I remember.”
    I swallow. I need him to know more than the
rumors. I need him to know the truth. “He said he’d gotten a hand
job from my mom.”
    “Jesus,” he hisses. “He’s such an ass.”
    I pull my lip between my teeth and chew on
the corner before confessing, “I don’t think he was lying.”
    “Why would you say that?”
    “We don’t have much money. My parents are
terrible with it, and then there’s not much coming in and…” I take
a breath, wondering if I dare say the rest out loud when I’ve never
even told Hanna and Lizzy. “My mom’s been taking Vicodin since
Gabby was born.”
    “Did she have some sort of
complication?”
    I shake my head. “No, she just…likes it. She
hides in her pills. I don’t know where she gets them, but I have no
doubt in my mind that her addiction is to blame for at least part
of our money trouble.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “She’s always had this little massage
business, but it’s changed in the last couple of years. The ladies
don’t come to her anymore, and people whisper about her. About what
she does. The worst part is that I think the rumors are true. I
think she got desperate and…” The truth is too sickening to put
into words. “Are you sure you want to get involved with me?”
    “I don’t care what your mom’s done. I only
care about you.”
    “When I say I’m not ready, I don’t just mean
tonight. I don’t know if I’ll be ready next month or next year.
It’s not that I don’t want to, but I’m scared I’ll become her.”
    His breath leaves him in a rush. “Never.
You’ll never be her.” He pulls me close, and I move to straddle his
lap.
    “You seem so perfect. I don’t know what
being with me is going to do to your life.”
    “My life is hardly perfect,” he scoffs. He
holds me close while he lowers himself back into the grass. He’s
silent for a bit, my head on his chest, his hands toying with my
hair. “I was young when my parents died. I have memories of them,
but nothing big, you know? My memories are more like snapshots. My
dad handing me a big present in Garfield birthday wrap. Mom
sweeping me off the ground and kissing my bloody knee. Sitting in
the back of the car and watching the two of them hold hands. I wish
I had more but it’s just not there.”
    I wrap my arms around him and squeeze
because that’s all I can do. There’s nothing to say to salve the
hurt in his voice. Nothing to do but listen.
    “I was in kindergarten when they died in the
accident, and I don’t remember much about that time. I was staying
over at Grandma’s that night, and Mom and Dad were having ‘couple
time.’ Grandma said it with disapproval in her eyes, so I thought
‘couple time’ meant something bad until I was older and heard other
people use it.” He pulls in a breath not much different than the
kind I take when I wake up from a nightmare. “They never came
home.”
    “I’m sorry,” I whisper. It physically hurts
me to imagine little-boy Will waiting for his parents to get home,
wishing he’d see them again and learning he wouldn’t.
    “Grandma didn’t like to talk about it. She
took me to the funeral, dressed me in a suit and tie, and told me,
‘We get one day to cry. After today, we