The instant we push through the double doors, my gaze scans over the gaudy yellow-and-purple-decorated gym, searching for Zilphia. It’s jam-packed, making it difficult to locate her among the attendees.
“Ah fuck,” Jiminy mutters.
“What?” I ask, prepared to spring into action if somebody’s looking to start some shit.
He jerks his head to the left. “Over there.”
The music and boisterous chatter fade away until the only sound inundating my eardrums is the blood thundering in my veins. Black spots dance in my vision. I blink once. Then again—hoping I’m wrong. But there she is.
Redmond’s slimy hands mold over her bottom, pulling her flush against him like he owns her.
“Let’s get outta here,” Jiminy says.
“No,” I grit out, storming toward the gyrating bodies.
“Don’t be stupid, man. She’s not worth us getting our asses kicked,” Jiminy calls after me.
I latch onto Redmond’s shoulder and spin him around.
“What the—” I swing. My fist crushes his nose, and he folds like a chair.
“Oh my God,” Zilphia gasps, clamping a hand over her mouth.
Before the sheep realize one of their precious idols was dropped by a nobody, I’m already barreling out of the rear exit with Zilphia in tow.
“Are you insane?” she yells, her heels scraping the vinyl tile as I drag her behind me. “Let me go!”
After trying several doorknobs, I find an unlocked classroom and haul Zilphia inside. The candescent moon shines through the tall, rectangular casement windows lining the entire back wall, casting her in a fluorescent glow. She’s breathtaking. The short clinging dress displays her cleavage and shapely legs.
And fuck…
Her shimmery white-polished toenails are the beautiful bow on the package. Zilphia’s feet deserve the highest praise. The soft, slim soles are perfection. I’ve fantasized about gliding my tongue over the delicate arches more times than I can count.
Every inch of her is designed to wreck me.
“Do you realize what you’ve done?” she asks, nervously wringing her hands. “People will for sure talk now.”
“I don’t give a damn!” I roar, my nostrils flaring in anger. “How could you let him touch you like that? That fucking bastard doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near you!”
“Redmond’s my date, and we were just dancing.”
“Your date!” I bellow. She stumbles back a few steps, her lips quivering. “You never said anything about a date!”
“I’m not obligated to tell you everything that goes on in my life!”
I close the distance between us. “You didn’t tell me because you know it’s fucking wrong!”
“You and I are just friends, Sam,” she fires back. “I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea.”
“Bullshit.” I grip her arms. “We kissed.”
“No.” She jerks her head from side to side. “You kissed me.”
I rub my forehead along hers. “And you kissed me back.”
“It was a mistake,” she whispers, her voice cracking the slightest bit. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
Mistake. That one word hurt more than anything I’ve ever endured. But it’s still nothing compared to my fear of losing her.
