Page 150 of Rebellious

“You look just like—”

“I know,” Easton said, stopping their handshaking and releasing her hand. “Please don’t say it. I hear it every fucking day.”

CJ punched his arm. “We’re still in school.”

Fuck. How could he forget? Easton grunted.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear,” Ember promised, then looked at CJ. They were all standing near her desk. When Easton and CJ walked in, she’d been at the nearby whiteboard, preparing for her next class. “How is Mr. Caldwell, Mr. Caldwell?”

CJ looked at Easton with meaning. “She means Diesel.”

Easton frowned. She’d fucked Diesel?

“He’s fine, Ms. LeBan,” CJ said politely, unaware of Easton’s annoyance. “Still Diesel.”

She smiled and lowered her lashes. “And how are you?”

“Ready for the school year to end,” he said, either ignoring all her signals or not picking up on them. But he was a smart kid. He must’ve understood what she was offering. His disinterest was what worried him. “It’s been long.”

“You’ve barely been here,” Ember said with a playful slap.

“Which is why I’m on probation with the team.”

“I’d love to…” Her voice trailed off and she gave Easton an uneasy glance, then cleared her throat. “I’m glad to hear you’re well, Mr. Caldwell.”

CJ smiled. “Same for me with you.”

She sidled back to the board. “Uh, my next class will start in twenty minutes.”

“I’m making the rounds. Meeting everyone,” Easton told her, catching and holding her gaze.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. DeLuca.”

“Likewise,” Easton murmured, and guided CJ out.

“She definitely wants to fuck you,” Easton said, walking down the oppressively gothic hallway of Columbia Hall.

“Shut up.”

Easton laughed, then remembered her inquiry about Diesel. “Is there anywhere I can escape that fuckhead?”

“Diesel?” CJ said and bounded down the stairs.

“Who the fuck else?” Easton asked, when he joined CJ on the ground floor. “The moment Mendez saw him yesterday, she lit up.”

“He’s slept with both of them,” CJ said.

“So I gathered.”

He paused at the exit. “Don’t be too hard on him, Easton. He’s a motherfucker but he grows on you. I’ve known him since I was two. He’s a motherfucker to women, but a good friend and a great brother. He has power in the club. Live up to his expectations and you will earn not only his respect but that of his friends, too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he promised, clapping CJ on the back. “Come on. Let’s get your excuse.”

After football practice ended, Ryan headed to the locker room to shower and change. Today was grueling. Coach Yancy didn’t seem inclined to return Ryan to the kicker’s position and instead pitted him against CJ to vie to become starting quarterback.

Ryan was so fucking over it, battling with CJ for everything. Probably if it hadn’t happened all their fucking lives, he wouldn’t give a fuck. He’d just chalk it up to Coach wanting the best player in the position. CJ relished that shit. He was a Caldwell boy and all those motherfuckers, from Diesel to motherfucking Gunner (probably) thrived on competition and chaos. They also expected to win.

Fuckheads.