Deep (Heavy Hearts Book 2), Sarah Duncan [people reading books TXT] 📗

eyes look back at me in the mirror. I hardly recognise them or the face they live on. There is no more swelling on the left side of my face, but the bruising is still there, more green than purple now, which must mean it’s getting better. Under each eye sits dark shadows, which looks worse because of the sickly paleness of my skin. My cheeks hold no colour, and my lips are the lightest shade of pink I’ve ever seen them. Even the waves in my blonde hair look like they can’t be bothered, and fall limp.

I should probably care a little more about my appearance. Maybe brush on some mascara or dust on a little blush, but it all seems too much, too hard. The outside of me looks just as lifeless as the inside of me feels.

When I force myself to leave my mum’s room a few minutes later, the sound of porn has been replaced by gunfire on the PlayStation, and Simon no longer pounds on the door. My phone vibrates in my pocket with a message, and I smile, already knowing it’s from Simon.

Simon Hastings

I’m sorry. It’s gone. Promise.

I don’t respond, but instead, walk back past the living area to the front door and open it. Simon has his arms wrapped around his shoulders, trying to stay warm.

“Sorry, Lex.” Simon’s usual clown grin has vanished, replaced with worry and shame.

Shit! Guilt hits me like a Mack Truck. He probably didn’t deserve how I treated him.

“I’m sorry for being a bitch, Simon. Word of warning. It’s hard for me not to be one right now.”

Simon steps inside and closes the door behind him. “You have every reason to be a bitch. I mean… not that you are a bitch. I’m not saying you’re one. I mean…”

I laugh at Simon’s fumbled words. “It’s okay, Simon. I am a bitch. I’m not in denial about that.” I shift nervously and grin, “What exactly would you have done if I had gone out there with you?”

A blush creeps over Simon’s face, and his dimpled chin sinks in further. I chew the inside of my cheek to hide my grin, but I can tell his bright hazel eyes pick up on it.

“Fucked if I know. I was hoping you would take the lead.” I laugh at his honesty, and he joins in.

“Come on, Woodie,” I turn and go back into the living room with Simon on my tail.

“Hey! No way! That’s not going to be my new nickname.” Simon protests, gaining everyone’s attention.

“What’s that, Woodie? You say something?” Garrett teases, sending everyone into fits of laughter.

“Serves you right for watching porn on my TV while I was in the same room!” I snap, trying to sound angry. I fail. They can see my grin.

“Bossi just needed a few tips to brush up on his lack of game.” Simon steers the conversation away from him again. Smart boy.

“Fuck off, Hastings! I get more pussy than anyone in this room!” Spanish Casanova, AKA Shaun gloats.

And this argument goes on and on.

Considering how the boys found me when they came over earlier, I’m in a better mood with every passing hour. Their presence makes me feel lighter, and I eventually join in and play Fortnite with Jared before we all call it a night.

I thought they would go home, but I was wrong. Confused, I watch the boys disappear into my house, and I shoot Jared a questioning glare, but he shrugs and gives me a knowing smirk. Marcus and Garrett stroll back into the living room a moment later, their arms clutching piles of pillows and blankets.

“Ah… what’s going on?” I squeak.

Marcus drops the blankets to the floor as Shaun and Simon enter the room with their arms packed with blankets too.

“Slumber party!” Jared announces.

Marcus hands me the blanket we’d used the night before and leans in to whisper. “You want to cuddle my feet again?”

Raising my brow, I snatch the blanket off him. “You can sleep on the floor or on the other couch, just like you should have last night!”

Marcus chuckles and moves to the other couch without argument. I don’t miss the questioning looks Marcus gets from the guys, but thankfully, no one asks us to elaborate.

“Hey, guys?” I ask, gaining five sets of eyes. “Where do your parents think you are?”

“Their parents think they are at my house.” Simon declares, puffing his chest out like he’s proud.

“Where do your parents think you are then, Simon?” I ask, eyeing where he has just dumped his armful of blankets on the floor.

“They think I’m at home. You know what they’re like, Lex, too busy attending snobby parties in the city to pay much attention to what I’m doing.”

Pity sits heavy in my chest at the reminder of what Simon’s parents are like. They are lovely people, always nice and welcoming, but they often go on trips away, leaving Simon to his own devices. The wink, which is more like a blink that Simon gives me, is his way of saying don’t think too much about it because he doesn’t.

Simon, Garrett and Shaun make their beds for the night side by side where they had been sitting earlier to watch porn, while Jared makes his bed at the foot of the couch I am occupying. Marcus shakes his head from the other couch, grinning before laying down and scrolling on his phone.

“Ah - Jared.” I whisper, not wanting to get everyone’s attention, “If I need to pee in the middle of the night, I might step on you.”

Looking up in amusement, Jared simply shrugs, “I’ll take that chance.”

“Der, there’s plenty of space in this room. You don’t have to sleep under my feet.”

Jared grins at my use of his childhood code name and sits down on his makeshift bed, shuffling his legs under the blanket.

“Well Six, there may be plenty of space, but I figure if I sleep here, then no one can get to you without getting past me first.”

My