Landon & Shay: Part One (L&S Duet, #1)

by Brittainy C. Cherry

“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved. In secret, between the shadow and the soul.” -Pablo Neruda

never meant to be a monster, but sometimes I wondered if certain people were born that way, born with a darkness that oozed into their bloodstreams and infected their souls.

If you asked most of my classmates what my name stood for, they’d probably say asshole. Rightfully so, too.

Monica slapped me the night I told her that, and part of me kind of liked the sting. My skin flushed and bubbled up from the sensation. It was a reminder that I was still alive, still able to feel, even though for the most part, I felt like dry ice—frozen solid and painful to whoever tried to hold on to me for too long.

“Oh, please, don’t go limp so quickly because you got caught, Satan. If you think you could make me fall in love with you, then by all means, do it—but do understand that I want to play now, too.” “Play? What do you mean?” Reggie asked. “I mean exactly that. I bet I can make Landon fall in love with me first.”

“You sure you want to put yourself in this position, Chick?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Because once you love me, every other man you ever date will be an utter disappointment.” “And once you love me, you’ll never be able to get me out of your head,” she said, stepping even closer. We were so close that her chest almost pressed against mine.

“Please.” I smirked, lowering my head down toward her face. My lips were centimeters from hers. “I’m going to love every second of owning your body and your heart.” “Whatever.” She stood on her tiptoes, and her lips moved in closer. I felt her hot breaths brushing against my skin. “I can make you fall in love with me without you even tasting my lips.” “I can make you love me while still treating you like shit.” “I double-dog dare you, Satan.” She held out her hand. “Bet, Chick.”

I wanted to know his story. His ugly, hard novel. I wanted to read his words, even though they seemed to bleed across the page in the most painful way.

“I just worry that loving is your default setting. If Landon Harrison shows any kind of flaw or weakness or…I don’t know, smiles, you’re going to react to it, and then bam! His penis is in your vagina while you’re dazed and confused and you’re thinking you’re in love.”

You can’t lose this battle, Shay. Do you understand me? If you have sex with him, that’s you losing your virginity to Landon-freaking-Harrison! That would be a very expensive therapy bill down the line.” I laughed, shut my locker, and started walking away. “It’s not that serious, Tracey.” “Um, yes, it is. This is the most important win you’ll probably ever have a chance at in your life. If you get Landon Harrison to fall in love with you, you win the win of all wins.

When he turned his head, he locked eyes with mine. Then, he smirked. Oh, heck. Did I mention Landon’s smirk? I was certain that smirk got some pregnant on the regular. “Oh my gosh.” Tracey shivered, wrapping her arm around mine and hurrying me past Landon and his current fling. “You’re so going to lose this bet.” “Thanks for your belief in me,” I huffed. “I’m sorry, but he’s going to use that smirk to win, and it’s going to work.” “What do you mean? How do you know it’s going to work?” “Shay, he just had sex with you using only his eyes.”

“I’m just saying, it looked like he screwed you with solely his eyeballs. You should go check your panties to make sure you’re in the clear.”

He parted his lips a little, and his tongue darted out and swept over the bottom one before he bit it and dragged his teeth across it in slow motion. Then, he added in that smirk. The dimple appeared. The Gates of Hell opened up, and I was left speechless. “Oh my gosh,” Tracey whispered, breaking my connection with Landon. “I think I just came for you.” She blushed, probably matching the redness of my cheeks,

Sometimes, sitting in silence with someone who is willing to stay with you helps a heart heal more than talking about one’s hurts.

Funny how you could be a different character in different people’s storybooks.

Love was a sickness. I didn’t understand why people craved it. It always left me feeling empty inside.

I must’ve looked as bad as I felt. “How’s your heart today, Landon?” she asked me. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“It’s still there, Landon,” Maria swore. “Your heart—I still hear it beating. You’re good. You’re okay. You’re all right.”

I stood and looked toward Shay. “Aren’t you going to tell me to break a leg?” I asked. “Go ahead.” She nodded. “Break two.” Cold, Chick. I liked it.

I narrowed my eyes. “Truth or game?” I asked. “What?” “Is that the truth or is it just part of the game to try to get me to fall in love with you by being sweet and crap?”

He shrugged. “They sold a pack of them that way at the store. It wasn’t a big deal.” It felt like a big deal to me. “That was really sweet.” “It’s whatever.” He was being the moody, dark Landon he normally was, but again, that right side of his lips curved up. “You in love with me yet?” he asked. “No. Not at all. You love me yet?” His stare fell to my lips. “Not a chance.”

“You still hate me?” I whispered, my eyes moving to his mouth…that same mouth I’d tasted…that same mouth that had tasted me. “Yes.” “Good, because I hate you, too.” “Good,” he echoed. “Good,” I replied.

“Truth or dare?” he asked me as I plopped down on the couch beside him. “Truth.” “I truth you to take off your pants.” I laughed and threw a pillow at him.

He grimaced and rubbed his chin repeatedly. “Only truths?” “Only truths.” A sigh rolled through him, and he lowered his head a bit before looking up and locking his stare with mine. “I think that’s an unfair playing field.” “Why do you say that?” “Because my truths aren’t really something worth loving.” Oh, Landon.

“That’s sleepiness talking. You’re delusional.” He yawned next. Perfect. “Good night, Chicken. I hate you.” He’d called me Chicken, and I hadn’t known I could love a nickname that grew from hate. “I hate you, too, Satan.” “Yeah, but I hate you the most.”

The whole being sad thing is exhausting. I’m tired. All the time. Have you ever been so young but felt so old? That’s the kind of tired I am. I’m the ninety-years-old kind of tired, the kind of tired where everything aches right down to my bones.

“A penny for your thoughts,” I whispered. “A nickel for your time…a quarter for your heart…” I inhaled deeply. “A dollar to make you mine.”

“I am going to love loving you as much as I loved hating you.”