I shouldn’t have told him that. Hyde kept his mouth shut in the cafeteria for a reason. But whatever it may be, fuck it. I’m losing my mind here and need a different perspective.
“He fuckingkissedher,” I repeat, the thought of his mouth on hers curling my hands into fists.
Dash hops onto my counter, knocking a glass over with his ass. “When? Today?”
“No,” I huff. “Before my fight with Jasper. Hyde saw them making out in the library. That’s what he told me last night.”
I open a bottle of water and take big gulps like they might drown the unwanted image of one of my best friends kissing the girl I’ve been obsessing over for a year.
Dash exhales slowly. “Oh-kay... so?”
“What do you fucking meanso? He kissed her. I think that matters, don’t you?”
“Her reaction last night matters. If there were something deeper between them, she would’ve run to him instead of straight out of the common room with a sad look on her face, so unless I’m missing something—”
“Her reaction to Noah’s bare chest at the gym. She flushed nice and pink, couldn’t look him in the eyes, and now I wonder if they did more than kiss.”
He studies me, curious expression shifting back to a cunning grin, and he barks out a laugh. “Jesus Christ, Iunderestimated this. You’re not just casually into her, you’rejealous.”
I don’t answer. Not because he’s not asking a question, but because it’s fucking obvious I’m green from head to toe.
“Hyde sent Noah into her room last night,” I say, watching Dash’s eyes grow wider. “He’s kind of given him his blessing.”
He leans against the cabinets, deep in thought, his eyebrows pulling together. “You know she’s coming to game night, right? And if you want her as much as I think you do—”
“Fine,” I clip. “I’ll be there.”
32
Creed
Blood beads at my knuckles. I wish it were for something other than obsessive scab picking, but it isn’t.
I’m doing this shit on purpose, tearing every scrape and wound open while I hiss under my breath. It’s fucking idiotic.Pathetic. It proves how desperate I am to keep Millie’s attention on me instead of Noah tonight.
I lean back against the headboard, flexing my hand to make sure the skin doesn’t start closing. The pain’s mild, but it helps settle my nerves. My jaw tightens and I drag my bleeding knuckles across my mouth, tasting iron.
She hasn’t replied to my question, and I successfully kept myself from pleading with her to come over and talk.
I focus back on the job at hand, peeling off another scab. Millie fussed over me after the fight, her soft fingers steady as she disinfected every little cut.
I’m used to scraped knuckles. I barely consider them an injury and not one worth her care, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t revel in how she treated every tear like it mattered.
Like I mattered.
I want that again. That and her attention onmeinstead of Noah, so I tear the largest scab right off, biting my cheek when the sting shoots up my hand. It’ll scar if I don’t stop messing with it, and fuck knows I have enough scars already.
One more won’t make a difference.
At least on the outside.
A knock on the door pulls me out of my head. My pulse kicks up immediately, a fit of shivers rushing down my arms.
The soft rap gives away who’s standing on the other side. I cross the room, yanking the door open, and there she is, dressed in a baby-blue sweater and black fitted jeans.
Her blonde hair frames her face, lips in a thin line, anger glinting in those striking eyes. The orange glow from my room illuminates her frame, giving her an otherworldly look.
God, she’s so fucking beautiful it should be illegal.
