I’m literally spouting shit from books now. Maybe the air’s too thin in here, and it’s depleting my brain cells. Or this guy is messing with my head in a serious way.
He laughs, and it’s a deep full-bellied laugh that does funny things to my insides. “I can honestly say, Zeta, that I’ve never met a girl who intrigues me as much as you do.”
“That’s only because the pickings are slim around here. Trust me, I’m not that interesting.”
“I think we’ll have to agree to disagree.” His eyes twinkle as he looks at me, and I get lost in their hidden depths and the warmth of his gorgeous smile. The air subtly changes, and that frisson of electricity I’ve felt in his presence before sparks to life, humming like a tangible thing. “Zeta,” he whispers, never taking his eyes off my face.
I love the way he rasps my name, and a throbbing ache starts building between my thighs. “What?” I whisper back.
“I think I need you in my life.” His eyes burrow deep into mine as he lifts his hand, extending it toward me. “Friends?”
There’s no hesitation or indecision on my part. I place my hand in his much larger one, and it feels like my heart might beat clear out of my chest. “Friends.” I say it with confidence and determination born of some innate sense that tells me Ryder is going to be an important part of my life.
I’ve never believed in fate, or karma, or any of that superstitious nonsense, but as I sit on the cold floor, beside a boy I’ve only just met, a boy I scarcely know, I get a strong sense that I was meant to come here, that I was meant to meet him, and that we’re meant to be friends.
And, quite possibly, something more.
5
Ryder
Zeta’s been here a month, and already I’m having trouble remembering what my life was like before she arrived. I’ve never had a friend who was a girl before, so I don’t have anything to compare our friendship to, but her presence in my life has been transformative, and she already means so much to me. It’s not anything like the friendship I have with Luc, and while I don’t want to knock my young friend, because he means the world to me too, my friendship with Zeta is already so much more.
I look forward to waking up every morning, knowing I’ll get to spend my days with her. We laugh over breakfast, share notes and partner for assignments in class, discuss books we’ve read at length, often getting into a heated debate—which I love—jog around the yard together while trying to trip one another up, and watch movies and TV shows whenever she’s not pleading with me to play for her. We even have a lot of similar musical tastes. When she told me she loved Green Day and Clapton, I almost declared undying love.
She’s so unbelievably easy to talk to, and there’s never any awkward moments or stilted conversation. The only topics we haven’t discussed are our pasts, our families, and the reason why we’re in here.
Thanks to Valeria, I know Zeta’s been convicted of killing her mom. It was voluntary manslaughter, and she’s been put away until she’s twenty-five, apparently. Watson should have his ass fired for disclosing that information to Valeria while she was on her knees, no doubt. It didn’t, for one second, alter my opinion of Zeta. I like to think I’m a better judge of character now, and I know she’s not a bad person. I can’t prove it, but I just know she’s a good person caught in a shitty situation. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.
And it’d be hypocritical of me to judge her harshly given my past actions. If I don’t want to be defined by the mistakes of my past, then I have no right casting judgment on anyone in here because of theirs.
I could ask her what happened, but then I’d have to open up to her too, and I don’t want to lie to this girl. So, we avoid conversing about our existence pre-juvie, and I’m happy to live in the land of denial, if it means I get to spend time with her.
“You tapping that yet?” Lopez asks, casting a quick glance at Zeta as she walks in single file with the other four girls, heading toward the school annex. Us boys are facing the wall, with our hands behind our back, waiting for the routine morning inspection to finish.
“Mind your own fucking business,” I hiss under my breath. “And shut the fuck up before he catches us.” Price is the officer on duty today, and while he’s not on the Watson scale of assholery, he’s been known to have his moments, so I want to stay off his radar.
“If you’re not up to the job, I’d be happy to take her off your hands,” he says, completely ignoring my wishes.
And what a fucking joke. As if I’d let Lopez anywhere near her. “I’m officially calling dibs.” I cringe as I say it, knowing how hurt Zeta would be if she knew of this conversation. But I’ve watched Lopez leer at her for long enough. If I don’t officially stake my claim, he’ll go after her with all guns blazing, and just the thought of him putting his hands anywhere near her has me shaking with rage.
Despite the “Cage your Rage” program I’ve attended for years, I’m still prone to bouts of uncontrollable anger. I’m pretty good at removing myself to my cell when the frustration and aggression descends, but I doubt I could restrain myself if Lopez made a serious play for Zeta. So, I’m doing what I have to do to stop that from happening. And to keep her protected. Valeria hasn’t done much more than toss out insults and scathing looks, but that would change if Lopez dumped her to actively seek out Zeta.
“Only with my permission,” Lopez smugly states as we start moving forward in a line. He’s at my back, whispering into my ear, annoying the fuck out of me, but I grit my teeth and stick to the plan.
“I never ask you for anything, man, and I’ve put in the groundwork. She’s primed for the taking.” My stomach contorts in distaste, but I say what I need to.
He chuckles, clamping a hand on my shoulder when Price isn’t looking. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.” He thinks I’m toying with her affections this whole time just to get in her pants, and I let him believe it.
A surge of self-loathing crashes into me. While it’s not an unfamiliar feeling, Zeta’s presence in my life has been successfully keeping those emotions at bay. Even the nightmares and flashbacks have been less frequent. So, I hate that I’m betraying her trust and disrespecting her by pretending I’m only after her body. I loathe that I’m forced into playing it this way, but there’s no other choice.
* * *
“Hey,I need to tell you something,” I whisper to Zeta later that evening as we sit beside one another on the floor in the common room. Carefully, I lean my Fender against the wall so I can give her my undivided attention.
“Sup?” She tucks her dark hair behind both ears, peering into my eyes with obvious concern. My gaze drifts to her lush mouth, and I sit on my hands to avoid grabbing her face and sampling her lips.
I’m fucking obsessed with this girl, and I wasn’t joking with my previous spank bank comment. She’s all I see when I close my eyes at night. It’s her lips I imagine on my heated skin, her body I imagine thrusting inside of, as I stroke my cock to powerful release.
