Rogue’s silence is heavy as he processes, his movements slow and distracted while we finish rinsing off residual soap and then shut off the water. We grab our towels on the way out, wrapping them around our waists while we head to our lockers to get dressed.
“So what now?” Rogue asks once we reach them, only to drop his towel without a concern.
Anyone can see he has nothing to be ashamed of, and I’m fucking ecstatic for him, but it’d be nice if he didn’t do that shit the second I bend down while he’s standingrightfucking next to me.
I straighten and settle a glare on him, my tongue rolling along my inner cheek.
When he meets my eyes, his brow furrows, and he glances around, confused. Clearly, he’s oblivious to him putting his dick in my face.
Fucking idiot.
I sigh and finish getting dressed. “I made her my girlfriend.”
This time, his silence is loud. I don’t bother meeting his burning stare, and instead, I sit down on the bench to pull my socks on, all the while concentrating very hard on not thinking about locker room benches.
“Are you going to make me ask for elaboration, asshole, or are you going to pick up on social cues and offer it?”
This time, I do cast a glare his way.
He’s one to fucking talk about social cues.
“Simple. I want to see Lionel, and Lionel wants to see her,” I say tonelessly while putting my shoes on. Then, we grab our shit and head toward the door. “So, if he wants to get to her, he’ll have to go through me first. And the only way to ensure I’m around when that happens is by keeping her at my side.”
Rogue barks out a laugh, reaching the door just as I do and slapping a heavy palm on my shoulder. I’m still really dizzy, but the dickhead didn’t pick up on those social cues either.
He doesn’t seem inclined to because the idiot looks downright excited, as if he just won the lottery. Why he looks like that, I’ll never ask.
“You dirty dog. She doesn’t have to be your girlfriend to keep her around, which means you’re fucking her, too.”
I flick a glare his way, which he dutifully ignores, instead grinning at me like the Cheshire cat. He damn near spends more time horizontal than he does vertical, so if anyone would assume those intentions, it’d be him.
For once, he’s not entirely wrong, though. Which is why I don’t bother denying it.
Soon enough, the entire campus is going to know Reverie is my possession, and every fucker will know she’s off-limits, too. If anyone touches her—her father or otherwise—they will have their funeral at the bottom of a lake.
I quickly glance through the notifications on my phone. I click on Olive’s messages first, reading through a thread of her asking how I am and informing me of the paparazzi already posted outside her door, assuring me she and Junie are okay. I pause on a picture she sent of Junie with a huge smile stretched across her freckled face, absolutelycovered in chocolate, as if to physically show me they're good. I smile, tap out a quick message to let her know I'm fine too and to wish her luck on getting Junie to bed later, then scroll through my other notifications. Once I see nothing else of importance, I put it away just as we reach the parking lot, a fresh blanket of snow covering the ground.
Reverie’s class ends in ten minutes, and I’ve already told her I’m picking her up before we head to the cafeteria. By the look on her face, I got the inkling she’s planning on skipping out early to avoid me, so I’m anxious to get there before she can.
“Just don’t fall in love with her, man. There’s already some weird-ass energy between you two,” Rogue calls, reaching for the door handle to his car parked to the right of mine.
I’m slow to turn my head toward him, and when he glances over his shoulder at me before getting in, he pauses, and his smile slips.
“Oh, come on. Don’t get pissy with me. I’m just sayin’.”
My stare is cold as I snap, “Next time you decide tojust say, expect to do so with a few missing teeth.”
He scoffs humorously and gives me a sarcastic salute before getting into his car and slamming the door shut. My friends aren’t scared of me, but we respect one another enough not to test who would win in a fight, so we tend not to push too far.
Except it feels like he already has, and that thought burrows beneath my skin.
The fact that he thinks I evencouldfall in love with her has me on the verge of grinding my molars to dust.
Especially because he’s placed multiple bets with others that I would never fall in love.
So why the fuck does he think I would now, and with Reverie, of all people?
And where the fuck didhisgoddamn social cues go?
