I jerked my head away from him, shaking his hands loose, and scowled up at him. “What the fuck are you doing, you weirdo?”
The slow smile that stretched across his face made my heart pound.
“I’ve never heard you laugh. Or seen you smile. So I never knew you had really sharp teeth. Figures, though, with the way you bit me. You’re not a tiger, you’re a piranha.”
I had no idea what to say to that. All I could do was stare at him, and he stared at me, still smiling. And when he raised his hand again, setting his fingers beneath my chin and rubbing his thumb across my bottom lip, I let him.
“I really like your smile,” he said softly. “It’s kinda scary. Like you.”
I watched him as he stared at my mouth, completely baffled by this man who seemed to like me no matter what he discovered.
When someone bumped into him, it shook him from his thoughts, and he let go of my chin to pull on my elbow.
“Come on. Let’s go get something to eat.”
20
SHUT UP AND KISS ME, ASSHOLE
REESE
He was still holding my arm.
I couldn’t stop glancing down at those long fingers wrapped around my forearm in a firm grip as we walked down the path toward the cafeteria.
I liked that he always wanted to feed me. That he worried about whether I’d eaten or not. That I was on his mind at all.
I liked so many damn things about him, about how he made me feel, that it was terrifying.
I knew this was dangerous, but I was done ignoring my feelings. It was pointless anyhow.
My first impression of him was so off because I was seeing him through a cracked lens.
Now I knew he was the kind of person that I hadn’t known in a long time. Someone genuine and honest, someone dependable and kind. Playful and irreverent, yet never in a cruel way. Someone who wanted my attention and would do anything to get it.
Someone I’d been looking for without even knowing it, who’d found me when I needed him most.
I was so lost in thought that when Dakota grunted and stumbled forward, taking me with him, I had no time to react. I fell hard onto my knees with a startled cry, catching myself on one hand and trying not to let my violin slam into the ground. Dakota dropped his violin, and the case burst open on the path in front of us. Everything inside scattered across the pavement.
“Damn it,” he muttered, helping me back up to my feet. “You okay?”
It felt like I’d scraped up my hand a bit, but it didn’t hurt much. “Yeah, I’m fine. What happened? Areyouokay?”
Loud snickering behind us had me whipping around, and there were three guys watching us, laughing and whispering to each other.
“Dang, big tree fall hard. You okay, Dakota? My bad, my bad,” one of them called.
An ugly flare of intense anger sparked through me, a nasty meanness taking over that wanted to lash out and hurt them.
This asshole had tripped him?
These utter pieces of shit just walked around doing whatever the fuck they wanted without consequences—just like Timothy fucking Hatford.
They thought they could hurt Dakota? They thought they could humiliate him and destroy his property and think it was amusing? How long had they been doing shit like this? How long had he been putting up with this kind of treatment?
Rage bubbled and frothed through my veins, and a roaring started in my head as I set down my violin and balled my hands into fists.
“It’s fine, I just tripped,” Dakota said, his tone flat and hard.
