For one horrible moment, I think I have it all wrong. What if it isn’t Sawyer in that costume?
But one look at those broad shoulders, the way he tries to stuff his paws into non-existent pockets,then pulls the paws off and rubs the back of his furry neck, and I know it’s him.
Marching up to him, I shut the classroom door and say, “Why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m just being professional here,” he says, resigned.
“Professional, my ass!” I hiss. “You’re acting like I don’t exist!”
“I don’t know what you’re?—”
Before he can finish, I yank the bunny head off. Sawyer’s face is startled and sweaty. His cheeks are red and his eyes, dark and brooding, hold mine with startling intensity.
“Trust me,” he says, voice husky but clear as day, “I know you exist.”
His gaze drops. To my lips. My neck. My breasts. Lower. It singes my skin before his eyes rise to meet mine again. Desire lances through me, almost painful in its severity.
For one insane moment, I forget where we are. Forget we’re in a classroom. In the school. InBlue Ridge. I forget who he is. All I want is to grab him by the fur and drag his lips to mine. I want him to touch me. Claim me. Do things to me I’ve never wanted from anyone before.
Then his eyes cut away, and it’s like being plunged into an ice bath.
I want him toclaimme?What the actual fuck?
Suddenly, I’m angry all over again. At myself, but mostly at him. And he’sstillignoring me. Even now.
“Why are you ignoring me.” I force the words through gritted teeth, practically spitting them.
“I’m not?—”
Lifting the bunny head up, I wallop him over the headwith it. In the back of my mind, I’m utterly grateful the school’s empty in my moment of madness.
“Ow!” He steps back and rubs his head, but I feel no remorse.
“Why are you like this?” I stomp forward and thwack him with it again.
His back meets the wall. “Would you stop doing that?”
“Would you be honest with me?” I hold the bunny head up threateningly.
He closes his fingers around my wrist and yanks the head from my grasp. He tosses it on a desk. I reach for it, grazing the ear with my fingertips, but he spins us around pinning me against the cinderblock wall.
His eyes bore holes in my skull as his warm palms press against mine. “How would you even know if I was ignoring you through the mask?”
I square my shoulders, trying to hide the way my heart thrashes against my ribcage. His eyes follow the movement.
“It couldn’t be more obvious,” I sneer.
His hips press flush against mine, pinning me. A voice inside me begs for more.
Shut up, you hornball.What is wrong with me?
Sweat beads at his temple. “And you’re so good at reading people.”
Lifting my chin, I say, “You aren’t exactly shrouded in mystery.”
He rocks his hips into me. The pleasure hisses through my body, and I stifle a gasp. Without permission, I grind back. His eyes darken.
His mouth hovers over the crook of my neck, breaths coming out hot and heavy. “And you could never be wrong.”
