by J B Heller
On Friday, she looked like a punk princess. Today, she looks like a cute psycho. And I really fucking like it.
“Thanks,” she says softly, and my eyes flick back up to hers.
She’s blushing slightly and I reach out to stroke her throat as the redness spreads up it. She shivers as the back of my knuckles glide over her heated flesh. “I told you I would find you if you didn’t find me,” I say, when I finally pull my hand away from her soft creamy skin.
“I know,” she snips, her eyes refusing to meet mine.
I reach for her jaw to turn her face to mine, but that’s when Professor Decroon enters the room, calling for attention. I drop my hand and shift my focus to the front of the room momentarily. Chance visibly relaxes beside me and I grit my teeth. What’s her problem? She’s hot, then cold, then shy, I can’t keep up.
Decroon begins her lecture on, I’m not entirely sure what because I’m only half listening to her. I’m too distracted by the intriguing girl beside me. Chance notices my eyes fixed on the side of her face and she shoots me a look.
I grin back at her and she shakes her head at me, “What are you doing?” she hisses under her breath.
“Trying to figure you out,” I tell her honestly.
Her face scrunches up in an adorable frown, “Good luck with that. Let me know what you come up with, I’ve been trying to figure me out for years.”
My fingers itch to touch her again, so I slide my hand onto her thigh under the small desk that attaches to the arm of the chairs, and she tenses, “Thinking time is over, Chance,” I tell her, with a gentle squeeze.
Her eyes widen, “But I haven’t decided.”
Leaning down I whisper in her ear, “I have,” then I kiss her neck so softly it doesn’t come close to satisfying the need growing inside of me.
When I pull back her eyes search mine, and I don’t look away. I let her see how much I want her, how much I want to know her, how much I need to be with her. She bites down on the corner of her bottom lip then sighs, “Fine, but I’m not hanging out with your arsehole friends.”
I shrug, “I can deal with that.”
If he keeps smiling at me like that I can’t be held accountable for my actions. I’m seriously considering jumping him in the middle of this lecture. I pride myself on not being a boy crazy bimbo, and look at me now, his hand on my thigh is enough to have me thinking things that should not be contemplated in the middle of a packed lecture hall.
I swat his hand off my leg and he frowns, “What?”
“You’re so handsy,” I huff.
“So? You just agreed to be mine, I can touch you if I want. And I will touch you, Chance, every opportunity I get. No matter where that happens to be.” His tone leaves no room for negotiation.
I swallow hard, I like the sound of his possessive words way too much. But I can’t let him know that, so I straighten my spine and focus on the front of the room. Actually, I pretend to focus, because his palm is back on my leg and his thumb is slowly stroking up and down my inner thigh.
“Groping wasn’t part of the deal,” I grumble, so only he can hear me.
His fingertips dig into my fleshy thigh, “It is now,” he says, without shifting his gaze from Professor Decroon, and his tone in final.
I get absolutely nothing accomplished during that class. Unless you count not ravaging the football jock feeling me up during it as an accomplishment. I’m going to count it. It makes me feel better about the wasted time.
When the class is dismissed I go to stand but Carter grabs my hand, pulling me back down into my chair. I frown at him but he shushes me.
We wait for the class to empty, and since we are in the far back corner, everyone leaves without paying us any attention. When we’re alone, I turn my glare on him, “If you think you can man handle me—” his mouth covers mine, effectively shutting me up.
My fingers weave into his messy hair, and he groans softly against my lips, then slides his warm tongue against my own. His hands wrap around my hips, lifting me then pulling me into his lap, his mouth never leaving mine.
His big palms slide up to my waist, “I love your crazy style,” he says against my jaw.
I smile, “Thanks,” I murmur, tilting my chin up to give him better access to my neck.
His lips and tongue glide over my skin and I shiver, it feels so good and I relax into his hard body. “That’s better,” his gruff voice slides over my heated flesh.
“What?” I ask.
“I know you like me, Chance, so why are you fighting this?”
I swallow and sit up, breaking his mouth’s connection to my body, making him look at me, “What do you mean? I’m here aren’t I?”
His eyes narrow, “Running away from me this morning instead of facing me? Locking up when I touched you during class? Pushing my hand away? Ring any bells?”
I shrug, “Maybe I don’t like an audience,” I try to sound nonchalant.
Carter shakes his head, “Just give in already, Chance. I’m not backing down. I will have all of you and I know you’ll like it. Because you like me.” His fingertips glide up and down my spine, lightly tickling, “Well, you like my touch, at least. And that’s enough for now. You’ll get to know me, and you’ll like me.”
“How can you be so sure?” I ask.
One side of his mouth lifts in a barely there smile, and he shrugs, “I’ve never been so sure of anything as I am of this. Of us. Our differences are what will make this work.”
“You obviously know something I don’t,” I mutter.
He shakes his head, his hands still tracing leisurely up and down my back, “Nope, I just know that when I look at you, kiss you, touch you, it feels different. It feels right. And I don’t like wasting my time on things that aren’t worth it. But you, you’re worth it, Chance.”
I’d be lying if I said I don’t feel it too. But for me it feels all consuming. And I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. I’m leaning toward not. I don’t tell him any of that though, I just nod, “Okay,” I say and push to my feet, this time he lets me. “I’ll see you later,” I tell him, then I leave the room, trying my hardest not to look back at him and failing miserably.
I’m rewarded with his cocky grin when I peek over my shoulder to see him watching my behind as I exit the room.
My feelings, emotions, hormones, blood pressure, heartrate, all of them are running rampant.
Shoving the door to the girl’s room harder than necessary, it bangs against the wall behind it as I enter. I splash water on my overheated face and stare at my reflection. What is he doing to me?
I don’t have much time to ponder that, as Scout comes storming into the room just seconds after me. The look on her face says it all, but she vocalises anyway, “What the hell was that all about?”
Turning to her I shrug, attempting to play it off, “I don’t know, weird, huh?”
Scout raises a disbelieving pierced brow at me, “Right, so you have no idea why Carter kicked me out of my seat and sent me on my way? Is that what you’re saying? Because the flush of your cheeks and the fresh hickey on your neck suggests otherwise.”
My eyes bug out, “He didn’t!” I spin around to the mirror to inspect my neck, but there’s nothing there. Slowly turning back to face Scout I say, “You’re a bitch.”
She grins, “And you’re a shitty liar.”
I huff and lean back on the basin behind me, “Fine. The other day he told me he was into me and said I had the weekend to think about it. Then, I was supposed to find him to discuss a proposal he made. But I didn’t. In fact, I took off the opposite way when I saw him this morning. That, back there,” I point in the direction of the class we were just in, “Was him following through with his threat to find me if I didn’t find him.”
Scout’s face is almost comical, her expression is torn between mortified and amused. I glare at her and cross my arms, then she settles on amused and busts out laughing. “I don’t see how this is funny,” I grind out.
I shrug, “Guess we’ll find out. He isn’t really giving me a choice. And so far, there hasn’t been all that much talking.”
There goes that pierced brow again, “So what has there been?”
“Kissing. Really amazing kissing,” I sigh.
Scout’s eyes glaze over, “I’ve heard he has some serious skills in that department.”
I nod, “It’s true, he really does.”
When Scout’s finished grilling me about Carter, I make my way to a study group, which just so happens to be with Cole. This is all his fault. If he didn’t assign Carter to me I’d still be blissfully invisible and happily awkward, but no, just weeks shy of graduation and he has to throw me a possibly life changing curve ball. Douchecanoe.
I enter the classroom the study group is held in, glaring at Cole on my way past, and all he does is smile. He smiles so big that those damn dimples pop and my glare starts to slip. It’s really not fair that he has those. That’s cheating.
Everyone else is busy working on their own things, when Cole approaches me at my desk in the back corner of the room, “How’s it going with Carter?” he asks in a chipper tone, as he parks his fine arse on the corner of my desk.
I try to glare up at him, I really do, but those damn dimples are on display and its making it really hard to stay mad at him, “I still don’t like you right now, so I’d appreciate it if you would kindly shove off.”
He chuckles, “Nope, sorry, no can do. I just have to know how my favourite photographer is doing with her assignment.”
Dropping my head to my desk, I let out a frustrated breath, “He wants to,” I swallow down the words, sealing my lips closed.
“Hmm, what was that?” Cole says, an annoying grin tilting his mouth up on the side.
I look away and mutter, “Date me and stuff.” I don’t say the words that were actually on the tip of my tongue, fuck me, he wants to fuck me.
Cole is silent, and I roll my head to the side so I can look up at him with one eye, he’s covering his mouth with his hand but the dimples on his cheeks and glee shining in his eyes give away the fact that he’s holding in his laughter, bastard.
Finally, he notices that I’m eyeing him and he clears his throat, “You don’t say,” he grins fully now.
And I sit up immediately, “You knew!” I accuse.
He shrugs, “Maybe.”
“You set me up!” I whisper yell, flicking my eyes around the space surrounding us to make sure the whole room isn’t listening to our conversation. “Why would you do that to me? You just said I’m your favourite, why would you set me up like that?”
Standing from my desk he grabs the back of an empty chair against the back wall, dragging it over next to me, then sits down. He laces his fingers together on the corner of my desk, “You are one of my favourite people, Chance. Did you know Carter is also one of my favourite people?”
I frown in confusion, “I didn’t know you even knew him.”
“Well I do, it doesn’t matter how, but I do. And I’ve gotten to know him better than most over the last year or so. He’s a really decent guy,” he says then looks me in the eye, “And he’s been watching you from afar for a while. When I hit him up about it he shrugged it off and acted like I was seeing things. So, I assigned you to him to see what would happen.”
“Are you kidding me right now? That’s crazy. You’re a crazy person.”
Cole chuckles softly, “Maybe. But I was right, wasn’t I?”
I cross my arms over my chest, “So what, you’re getting into match making now? Running the paper doesn’t tickle your pickle anymore so you thought you’d dip your toes in Cupid’s pool?”
He frowns, “I don’t think Cupid has a pool. He uses arrows, doesn’t he? Anyway, that’s beside the point. Carter could use someone like you in his life. I just put you two on the same path for a moment in time, and if things happen to click between you,” he shrugs, “Then I win,” he beams.
“I really don’t like you right now,” I mutter, then ask, “Wait, you win? Win what?”
He shrugs again, “Never mind that, my work here is done. Oh, and I don’t need any shots of him. I just did what I needed to in order to get you guys in the same room.”
My jaw drops, “You are freaking kidding me, right? Dick move, Cole. Total dick move.”
Grinning he stands, “Maybe, but you’ll thank me, one day,” he shoots me a wink, then makes his way toward the front of the room to annoy some other unsuspecting student.
Another chunk of time passes with absolutely nothing accomplished. And this time I don’t even have the excuse of having to use all my focus to stop myself from attacking Carter. It’s still him that consumes my thoughts though. I wonder how he and Cole know each other? Why would Cole pull a stunt like that?
Questions swirl around inside my head for the remainder of the afternoon, and by the time students start filing out of the room, my brain is mush and it has nothing to do with the amount of studying I just crammed into a two-hour block.
Dragging myself outside, I take in a deep pull of fresh air, closing my eyes an enjoying the sun on my face. It revitalises me, giving me the much-needed energy required to cross the grounds to the photo lab. I want to develop the film from Sunday night. I like to use both film and digital when I shoot. There’s just something about developing my own photos that soothes me.
A big pair of hands wrap around my shoulders from behind and I jump, “Jesus, Carter, you have to stop doing that.”
But when I spin around it’s not Carter standing behind me, but Kassidy.
“Carter?” he asks with a smirk on his big stupid face.
“Shut up! Don’t even say it. Whatever it is, just keep it inside your big stupid mouth,” I warn him.
Kass shrugs, “I wasn’t going to say anything, I swear.” Then he starts making kissy faces and miming a make out scene that’s not suitable for public places.
I whack him upside the head, “Stop that.” Before he can add words to his actions I begin speed walking away from him.
“Hey!” Kass jogs to catch up with me, “Where are you going? I wasn’t done.”
Glancing at him from the corner of my eye, I make sure he isn’t still acting out the car scene from Titanic before I retort, “I know, but my survival instincts kicked in and it was fight or flight. Flight obviously won out.”
Kass glares at me, “Well that’s just rude.”
I smile widely, “Keep up the kissy faces and I’ll show you just how rude I can be,” I threaten, but I fail to maintain a straight face and seconds later we’re both laughing.
“That was a good line though,” Kass says with a quick jab of his elbow to my ribs.
Grinning, I tell him, “I know right, it just came to me. I’m a natural smartarse.”
She may have agreed to this arrangement, but she still doesn’t buy it. She doesn’t believe that I’m genuinely into her. Or maybe she does, and it’s something else making her hold back. I don’t know. But she is holding back.
I don’t have time to dwell on it this afternoon though, since I have football practice followed by an intense session at the gym with Trick.
“Oi, Princess,” Mase calls to me from the open door to the locker room where we get changed and ready for practice.
I tilt my chin to him, “S’up, Pretty Boy,” I return our customary greeting.
A big goofy smile is plastered on his face, “What?” I ask.
“Have you noticed how hot Scout got? Seriously, bro, how did I not notice that? She’s smokin,’ in that I don’t give a fuck what you think of me, kind of way,” he says with a dreamy expression.
Fr
owning, I punch him lightly in the shoulder as I push past him to enter the locker room, “In case you haven’t noticed, Chance is the only chick that’s been on my radar lately.”
Mase rubs his shoulder absentmindedly, “Yeah, I know. But I still don’t get it. I mean, yeah, she’s hot and all, but she’s fuckin’ weird. Did you read her shirt today? That right there is a sign man, she’s a sociopath or some shit.”
This time when my fist makes contact, it’s not lightly, “Shut the fuck up, Mase, you don’t know shit.”
He starts grinning, “You’ve got it b-ad,” he draws out the word.
I shrug as I tug my shirt off and start changing, “Maybe I’m just sick of airheads?”
Mase frowns, “Why? We don’t hook up with them for their conversational skills.”
Shaking my head, I can’t help but smirk, he’s totally right. He’s holding his fist out toward me, waiting for me to bump it with my own. Reaching out blindly, I bump my fist to his and chuckle to myself.
On our way to the field, I see Chance wandering toward the building that houses the photo lab, that Kassidy dude by her side, and I decide to go see her when I’m finished with practice. Unfortunately, by the time we make it to the field, Coach is already pissed about something, which means this is going to be an extra long practice.
“Fuck,” I mutter, as we approach the group of guys Coach is already chewing out.
Then his eyes land on me, and narrow, “Cross, where the hell have you been? You think you’re too good to arrive on time like the rest of the team? Laps. Now. Don’t stop till I tell you to.”
I don’t say anything, I just drop my gear by the benches then take off. I fucking hate it when people make assumptions. I was late because I stopped to help Professor Collins out to her car with all her shit. I swear she’s nearly a hundred years old, but she hasn’t retired for god knows what reason. But I like her, she’s tiny but she’s got balls of steel, kinda makes me think of Betty White. I’ve never seen her take shit from any of her students.
What I want to do is ram Coach’s assumptions about me down his throat, and tell him to go fuck himself and his team. But I can’t, not yet. I have to bide my time. The year is nearly over. I close my eyes and breathe through my nose as I push myself to run harder, faster, to push my frustrations down until I can get to the gym and let it all go.
