“Where are we going?”
He shoves his hands into his pockets, his shirt rumpled, and his jeans tented. I rub my lips together, a fresh wave of nerves fluttering in my tummy, before forcing my eyes back up to his.
His lips hook up lazily.
My toes curl.
I keep trying to pick a favorite look of his, but he makes it impossible.
After a second, he runs a hand over the nape of his neck and murmurs, “I’m walking you home, hippie.”
And my heart deflates.
Hunt
My knee bounces under the stupid English desk. It’s too small for my legs, and it makes a soft rattling sound every time my jeans connect with the bottom surface. I keep my eyes centered on the classroom doorway, scanning each student as they filter in.
I should regret last night. If I were a better man, I would. I’m angry with myself, yeah. Irritated at my lack of self-restraint, fuck yeah. Especially after such a solid streak of keeping my hands to myself. But I can’t bring myself to regret it. Not when I replay the way she spread her legs for me. The look on her face when she came apart on my fingers. The way she moaned my name.Fuck, the way she moaned my name ...
She strolls into class, and I sit up straighter. Her hair’s in a thick braid draped over one shoulder, a few strands spilling around her face. My fingers twitch with the foreign urge to brush them behind her ear. Her white dress hangs to the floor, loose and shapeless. But now I know the curves underneath, and my gaze drags down as though I can see them through the fabric. As though I can feel her smooth skin under my hands. Feel her riding my fingers, meeting each thrust, silently begging to come.
A throat clears, and I force my eyes upward. Blue’s standing right in front of me, a coy smile lifting her lips.
“Morning, Joshua,” she whispers before setting her bag down and sliding into the chair in front of me.
I shift in my seat, pulling on my jeans and discreetly adjusting myself. She removes her textbook and a notebook from her bag, setting them on her desk. As Mr. Lancer addresses the class, Blue looks over her shoulder and catches me staring. I don’t bother trying to hide it. There’s no point when I’m just gonna keep doing it. I could spend all day watching her.
My lips tip up, and pink rises to her cheeks before she turns back around and doodles something in her notebook. Probably a heart or flower, or one of those swirly things she does. I rub my hand over my mouth, biting back the impulse to say her name. To nudge her from behind and make her look back. I want to make her blush for me again.
Someone taps my shoulder, and I glance to my right. The guy next to me holds out a folded piece of paper. I only narrow my eyes, recalling the notes that used to get passed to me when girls wanted to hook up. He shrugs and tosses it on my desk.
Irritation rolls through me, but I pick up the paper and unfold it.
Party at my house tonight. Meet up with me?
xx Tiffany
My brows crash together. I look a few seats down, where Tiffany sits twirling the end of her brunette ponytail around her finger. She smiles and arches an eyebrow when our gazes meet.
When I first moved here, there were many girls who showed their interest, but Tiffany, hands down, was the most persistent. But that was a while ago, and just like with everyone else, I was quick to shut it down, usually by being a complete dick. Eventually, she moved on to Tommy Jacobs.
Why the hell she’d think I’d ever wanna go to a party now, and with her, is a mystery to me. One I don’t give enough shits about to try and figure out.
I drop the paper, already forgetting it, and hone in on Mr. Lancer’s lecture. Not a minute later, another note’s tossed onto my desk. I let out a breath of frustration, and Blue looks back at the sound, but I tear the thing open just to get it over with.
I’ll put some flowers in my hair and let you touch me in a closet if that’s your thing. Whatever you’re into.
xoxo
My grip curls around the paper. Anger bubbles inside me like a volcano about to erupt. When the note’s so crumpled it’s unrecognizable, I release it and shift my focus to Blue.
She frowns, her gaze roaming my face, and a weight drops to the pit of my gut as I look into those green eyes. It’s one thing for people to spread shit about me, but Blue ... not her.
She’s good.
She’s real.
She’smine.
