Trapped (Bullied Book 4) (Bullied Series) Vera Hollins (best large ereader txt) 📖

a mystery I would never get to unfold. He was an abuser who didn’t deserve a single thought, but he had it and much more every waking moment. What did that make me? A fool? A hopeless romantic? A stupid girl with a way-too-big heart? Maybe all three together.

I scrolled back to the top of his profile and looked at his bio, which had just a single sentence.

You live only to encounter pain.

I slipped under my covers and closed my eyes. I willed myself to forget about him, but my mind was the weakest right before I drifted off to sleep, always wafting to him.

This time it was all about the moment we’d shared in that closet at the New Year’s Eve party. A drunk me thought it would be a great idea to play seven minutes in heaven. Blake wasn’t even playing the game, but he was sitting right behind an empty spot in the circle. So when someone spun the bottle, it ended up pointing at him.

I expected him to refuse. He wasn’t playing and it was me he would have to take to the closet, but he didn’t refuse. He stood up and pulled me after him, shocking me. Before my shock could wear off, he pushed me inside the closet and closed the door behind him.

He backed me into the wall, and even in the complete darkness, I could feel his lips painfully close to mine. I could smell alcohol on his breath, mixed with mint and a taste that was purely his. He placed his hands on my waist, and through a fog, I sensed the panic that he was going to feel my stomach fat and see for himself just how fat I was. It was short-lived because my desire took over and pushed my insecurity aside. It was hard for me to pretend I didn’t like him this close to me.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my thoughts and senses in a state of disarray. Everything was happening so fast, and what I thought I knew about Blake turned into nothing as his short breaths fanned my face.

“What both of us want,” he said.

He buried his head in my neck and kissed it slowly, in a way that awoke my every single nerve and made me pliable under his mouth and hands. It was tantalizing. It was mind-numbing. It was absolutely wonderful, and I found myself gripping his hair.

He groaned in response and ran his hands through my hair, pressing himself against me. I could feel how much he desired me, the clear evidence flush against my stomach. I threw my inhibitions and doubts out the window and clung to him, starving for his kiss.

He left a line of kisses that stopped right next to my lips as a way of taunting me. I moaned in response, a second away from kissing him.

“What? You thought I was going to kiss you?” His breath caressed my lips softly. “Think again.”

If I’d been sober, I would have drawn away from him as if he’d slapped me. I would have refused to touch him for a moment longer.

But I didn’t.

Spurred on by alcohol and an overwhelming desire, I crushed my lips to his, surprising us both.

He didn’t need even a second to respond; he gave in to me in a way that seemed like he’d been suppressing something for so long until he couldn’t anymore. He grabbed my face and pushed me further against the wall, his moans creating strong sensations in my stomach. We couldn’t contain ourselves as our hands roamed across our bodies restlessly, and it was leaving me breathless and needy for more. Much, much more.

Minutes passed—or maybe an eternity—before he pulled away from my lips, panting just like me. He threaded his fingers through my hair and leaned his forehead against mine. He was breathing heavily as the silence stretched on and on…

Until his body grew stiff.

“No,” he said in a voice dripping with regret as he removed his hands from me. “Fuck no.”

“Blake?”

He didn’t answer for a second, two, three…ten. And then he released a chuckle that cut me deep.

“So not only are you fat, you’re also easy.” This time I recoiled, appalled by the complete change in his actions. “First, Burks. Now, me. Who’s next?”

I couldn’t speak. The first tears had already found their way down my cheeks.

He let out another chuckle. “I didn’t even need to do anything to have you eating out of my hand. So easy.”

“I…I hate you.” It was all I could say, but I managed to pour all my resentment into it.

He snorted. “What else is new?”

I pushed him to the side and lurched toward the door. I was about to open it when he said, “Happy New Year, Fats. And learn how to kiss better.”

I hit my fists against the mattress. I was reliving those minutes as if they were happening right now. I was a masochist, tormenting myself with memories that would only bring me pain.

What hurt the most was that it had been one of the best moments of my life. For a few blissful seconds, I’d felt closer to him than anyone, and it had mended all my scars. There was no better way to start a new year.

Only, he’d managed to destroy it, cruelly reminding me that we would always remain enemies. Our kiss meant everything to me. It meant nothing to him.

And now, three months later, I was still stuck between my feelings for him and my reason. If only things could have been different.

If only I could be free.

Monday morning rolled slowly by. Too slowly. I was mentally exhausted and bored by lectures, and I counted the minutes until lunchtime. Kev had texted me to tell me not to wait for him because he had to run some errand for his Spanish teacher, so Mel and I were the first to get to the cafeteria. Mel kept staring at me for some reason, and it