Born To Be Your's

Chapter 16

Blake stood in the silent, dark janitor’s closet, the smell of dust and floor cleaner filling his lungs. His body was still humming, vibrating with the aftershocks of adrenaline, violence, and the desperate, defining s*x he had just experienced. Liv was gone.

Confusion hit him first, hard and clean, wiping away the pleasure. What the hell did I just do?

The s*x had been amazing—savage, urgent, and perfectly tuned to the dark, chaotic rhythm of his own desperation. It was the best he'd ever had, better than any practiced transaction. He knew she had felt it too; her reaction had been primal, consuming, utterly real. He felt that rare, terrifying emotion: hope. He hadn't just used her; they had connected in a place deeper than any shared trauma.

Did I just ruin it? he muttered internally, running a shaky hand down his sweat-damp face. Did I completely read that wrong?

A loud, piercing final bell suddenly rang, echoing through the school halls, signaling the end of the day.

Blake opened the closet door and stepped out, blinking in the sudden fluorescent light. He scanned the emptying halls, his eyes searching frantically for the sight of black clothes and dark hair. He had to find Liv. He had to talk to her, to define what that terrifying, perfect moment meant.

He practically ran out the front doors and onto the street. He spotted Travis standing near the curb, bundled up, looking worried.

“Dude, what happened in gym?” Travis asked, confusion etched across his soft features. “Half the staff are looking for you and Olivia. Xander and Bethany are in the nurse’s office, and I heard something about the cops.”

Blake ignored the warning, his gaze sweeping the street. “Did you see Liv?”

Travis frowned. “Yeah, I saw her walking home about five minutes ago. She was moving fast. I yelled for her, but she just ignored me. What happened, Blake?”

Blake ran a frustrated hand through his hair. His entire focus was consumed by the need to find her. “I need you to go pick up Maddie and Ryan for me, Trav. Now. I have to find Liv.”

Travis furrowed his brow, stepping closer to his brother, grabbing Blake’s broad shoulders. He was about to ask if Blake was hurt when he took a deep, confused inhale of the air around his brother.

Travis’s brow furrowed further. “Why do you smell like... perfume and… and s*x?”

Blake’s face tightened. He didn't need to answer. The dampness of his hair, and the wild, frantic look in his eyes said it all.

Then it clicked in Travis's mind. His eyes widened, suddenly understanding the adrenaline-fueled disappearance. He gasped. “B… you didn’t!”

Blake aggressively rubbed both hands over his face, frustration and shame boiling over. “It just happened, Trav! We were in the gym, Bethany was being a cunt, and Liv beat the ever-loving s**t out of her! I had to protect her from Xander and his fucktard friends! Then the teachers were chasing us, so we hid in the old janitor’s closet, and… I don’t know! Our adrenaline was pumping, and it just… kinda… happened!”

Travis shook his head, his hands falling to his sides, his fear for their safety mixing with shock. “Paul and Francis are going to kill you, B. KILL YOU! That’s Francis tuition money you just risked getting arrested!”

Blake groaned, staring down the street where Liv had vanished. “I don’t care about that right now, Trav. I don’t care about the cops or the money. I have to find Liv and talk to her.”

Travis had never seen his older brother like this—unhinged, desperate, and completely prioritizing a girl over the family’s survival. Travis sighed, realizing the depth of Blake’s sudden, chaotic obsession.

“Fine,” Travis conceded, giving him a reluctant nod. “Go find her. But you owe me for a week of babysitting.”

Blake, forgetting everything but the frantic urgency to bridge the gap Liv had created, grabbed his brother and hugged him hard, kissing his forehead. “Thank you, Trav. I love you, little brother.”

He released Travis and bolted across town toward their street, his mind racing. He was consumed by the confusing, terrifying realization that the girl who had just shattered his rules of emotional detachment was the only thing that felt real and necessary in his entire, chaotic life.

The adrenaline that had fueled Blake’s violence and passion now drove his legs. He wasn’t jogging; he was in a full, desperate sprint, the kind of pace he usually reserved for outrunning the cops. The shame, the confusion, and the profound, terrifying need to find Liv twisted his gut.

He turned onto his street, not even checking his own porch, and ran straight for Francis and Paul’s front door. He wrenched it open like he owned the place, the door slamming against the wall and making the whole frame shudder.

“You!” Francis shrieked, emerging from the kitchen, where she was presumably pouring herself a strong drink. Her orange hair was wild, and her face was a mask of fury. “You little s**t! We asked you to keep an eye on her! Help keep her out of trouble, not get into a massive fight and jeopardize her placement!”

Blake ignored her, his eyes locked on the stairs. He heard Francis yelling about kicking his ass but the threats didn't even register.

He reached Liv’s door and tried the handle. Locked.

He knocked, his fist hitting the cheap wood. “Liv! Let me in, please. We need to talk.”

Silence. Heavy, agonizing silence.

He knocked again, harder. “Please, Liv! Let me in! I don’t know what came over me. I’m so f*****g sorry!” His voice cracked, stripping away the layers of his cynical shield. “It’s just… I’ve never felt this… way before. I like you… a lot. And I don’t want to lose you.”

After a long, eternal moment of silence, he heard the click of the lock turning. The door slowly eased open just enough for him to see one sliver of her dark, beautiful face.

Blake looked at her, his desperation complete. “I didn’t mean to have s*x, Liv. I didn’t mean to take advantage of the situation—”

She didn't let him finish. Her hand shot out, grabbing the collar of his shirt, and she yanked his six-foot frame into the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Shut the f**k up!” she hissed, her eyes blazing with panic. “If Francis hears what we did, she’ll kill us both! You need to be quiet!”

She turned, running both hands through her hair in a gesture of frantic anxiety, and walked over to her bed, sitting down quickly and pulling her legs up beneath her.

Blake slowly walked over, his eyes never leaving her face, and sat down gingerly next to her on the bed. He felt the need to apologize for the sheer, uncontrolled chaos he had instigated.

“Liv, I’m serious. I didn’t know what I was doing in that closet. I apologize if I took advantage of the situation. I should have waited—”

Liv put a delicate finger directly on his lips, silencing him instantly. She pulled his head toward hers slightly, her eyes softened with memory.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Blake,” she said softly, her voice low. “It was… amazing.” A light, genuine chuckle escaped her lips, quickly stifled. But then her face dropped, the sadness returning. “But it can never happen again.”

Blake furrowed his brow, confusion tightening his chest. “What do you mean? Why?”

Liv took a deep, shaky breath, looking at the pattern on her pink wall. “Because I can’t afford to get attached. I never stay in a home for too long, Blake. I told you. I move. And I know that as soon as Francis gets her tuition paid off… I’m gone. I’m transferred.”

Blake’s jaw tightened, the cold reality hitting him. He started blinking rapidly, the raw sting of her words threatening to expose the tears he refused to shed.

Liv smirked, a mixture of self-hatred and attraction. “It’s going to be hard enough, Copper, because I like you too. A lot. And I really don’t want to add more pain to the inevitable moment when I have to leave.”

Blake took a ragged breath, the choice agonizing. He could push, demand more, but he knew the risk of emotional attachment was too great for both of them. He had to respect her fragile wall.

He nodded slowly, settling the chaos in his chest. “I understand. I’d love to be your friend, then, for however long you have left here.”

Liv smiled, a beautiful, genuine smile that was instantly ruined by a single tear that escaped and tracked a slow, silver line down her cheek. She didn't let him see her cry again. She immediately leaned forward, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and pulling him into a fierce, necessary hug.

He wrapped his arms tight around her, his strong hands holding her small frame securely. They were friends now—a platonic truce built on stolen s*x, mutual vulnerability, and the cold, shared knowledge of a ticking clock. The architecture of their disaster had just become a temporary sanctuary.