My mom knew all about my headaches and how bad they could get. I could tell she felt for me.
I started getting them after I was in a horrible car accident when I was fifteen. I was sitting in the passenger seat of my dad's parked car, not wearing a seat belt, when someone rear-ended me.
I went through the windshield head first, and although I walked away, it was with a horrible concussion.
The whole event was so traumatic that I couldn't even remember it. I just remember waking up in a hospital, disoriented and in horrible pain, and not being able to get out of bed for an entire week.
Ever since, I suffered weekly, if not daily, migraines, especially when I was overthinking or stressed.
Like right now.
"Does Ace know?" my mom asked.
Ace began kissing around my left breast, the same way he had just been kissing my neck, very obviously planning on leaving a hickey there.
"Ace knows," I rushed to say, wishing my mom would leave the room so I could shove Ace off my bed and make good on my earlier promise to knee him in the balls. "Ace definitely knows. I...I texted him."
"Are you going to school? Is he still going to pick you up?"
Ace began sucking. My mouth dropped open. He'd never even seen my breasts before and now he had his mouth all over them. And with my mom in the room!
"Um, I don't know," I said.
Ace squeezed my sides roughly.
I squeaked. "I mean, yes! Yes, he's still coming over."
Her brow furrowed in suspicion. Mercifully, she didn't push me on the subject. "All right, you'd better be quick then."
I nodded. "Okay."
My mom gave me one last pointed look before she left.
The second the door closed behind her, I shoved Ace off me and practically flew from the bed.
He met my gaze with a grin and leaned back against my pillows, his arms folded behind his head. I gulped.
Eight-pack abs, well-defined chest, and broad, muscled shoulders.
My eyes followed the V that disappeared beneath the waistband of his boxers. How did he manage to look so masculine while surrounded by my girly pink and white bedding?
Don't get distracted, Doe!
"What the fuck was that?" I demanded.
Sure, I'd been waiting years for Ace to show that sort of interest in me, but I was also incredibly confused. Did this mean he wanted something more between us?
Ace's cocky grin turned into a scowl. "Foul words like that do not belong in a pretty mouth like yours. I don't want to hear you say something like that again."
He paused, his eyes scanning up and down my body, then he licked his lips. "And that was something we're going to be doing a lot more often."
I blinked. My head was absolutely throbbing now. I could hear the blood rushing in my ears. "W-which part?"
He climbed off the bed and prowled toward me, and again, I had to work not to get distracted by his sculpted body.
He moved with such confidence, not the least bit worried that I could see everything-and I mean everything- through the thin material of his boxers.
Not that it's difficult to spot. He's a big man.
Big everywhere.
And, lord help me, he was hard, too, his arousal clearly visible.
It wasn't the first time I had witnessed him with a morning wood; rather, it's a common occurrence when you sleep in the same bed as a teenage boy every night.
But this time felt different. It was almost like he was showing off for me, making sure I knew he'd enjoyed what had just happened between us as much as me.
He stopped mere inches away from me. "I think you know which part, little mate."
My skin prickled with awareness. There was that word again. "Mate?" I whispered.
A growl left his chest as he leaned down and placed a lingering kiss on my forehead. "Soon."
He stepped back. "I better get going. Don't want to be late for school. I'll be back in fifteen to pick you up."
Without providing any further explanation, he pulled on his pants and shirt from the night before and left through my bedroom window.
3. Tension and Temptation
Ace drove us to school in silence. Silence wasn't unusual with Ace. He was a quiet, brooding man, yet he commanded the attention of every room he entered and could quiet anyone with a single look.
Usually, I didn't mind how quiet he was. I liked doing all the talking. Ace was an incredible listener and, though careful with his words, gave great advice.
Today, however, his silence was unsettling. He was white-knuckling the steering wheel, his arm muscles taut. There was something on his mind.
I wanted to ask him about what we did this morning but I was too nervous to bring it up.
I didn't regret anything, but I wanted to know what he was thinking.
The way he touched me this morning was new and shocking and...good. It felt right.
But he was my best friend. And although what happened this morning made it seem like there might be something more between us, it could also have just been a fit of his teenage-boy hormones.
He called me his friend this morning, didn't he? Or...no, he called me his mate, whatever that meant.
But if he really only saw me as his "mate," why did it seem like he was seconds away from kissing me before my mother walked in?
Ugh, all of this was making my headache a million times worse. It thrummed behind my temples angrily, making my stomach roll. My migraines always developed at the most inconvenient times.
I'd gone to the doctor countless times and tried countless different medications to make them stop, but nothing ever helped. I was forced just to suffer through them until the horrible pain ended.
I gripped the edges of my seat as a wave of nausea hit me. I needed to pull myself together before Ace noticed something was wrong.
Ace hated it when I got headaches. He went into overprotective mode any time I was in pain.
If he knew what I was experiencing now, he would freak out and probably take me back home. That was the last thing I wanted. My thoughts would only spiral more if I was forced to lie in bed all day.
"Doe?" Ace asked. "Are you okay?"
Crap. "Yep," I replied. I kept my gaze through my passenger window, "I'm great."
I felt his eyes on my face, and I tensed the muscles around my mouth to keep my expression neutral.
"No, you're not. Something is wrong." He paused. "Fuck. You're getting a migraine, aren't you?"
I slumped in my chair. It was as if he could read my mind. "I'm fine. It's not that bad."
"I'm sorry, Doe." He spoke as if he were to blame for my pain. His eyes volleyed back and forth between me and the windshield. "Should I take you home? Would sleep help?"
I immediately shook my head. "I want to go to school. It'll be a good distraction."
