Sweet Little Nothing

by Farlow, LK

  Stella shoots me a sympathetic glance. “Let’s get some food and you can tell me all about it.”

  “Please tell me you want pizza,” I plead, fully prepared to stand in line alone if need be.

  “Babe, I always want pizza.”

  “Good, because I need it. Need. It.”

  “Then you shall have it.” She links her arm with mine and steers us toward the entrance.

  Inside, various tantalizing scents greet us, but I only have one thing on my mind.

  Dough, sauce, cheese. Dough, sauce, stabbing Sterling in the face, cheese.

  Okay, so more than one thing.

  “So, you want to tell me what happened?” Stella asks softly, gauging my reaction.

  “Well, I’m ninety-nine percent sure I just failed our first quiz.” I grab two slices of my beloved pizza. “And I’m one-hundred percent certain he set me up to do it.”

  “Set you up how?”

  “Remember last week when my syllabus changed?”

  Realization dawns in her eyes. “That rat!”

  “Yup. He’s vile.”

  She nods. “All the pretty boys are.”

  “Pretty boys like Samson?” I ask, hoping today’s the day she finally spills her guts. God knows I could use the distraction.

  “Nice subject change, Emmy. Real subtle.”

  “Whatever.” I roll my eyes as I swipe my card and key in my PIN.

  An angry beep sounds, causing my cheeks to burn. “Oops. Must have hit a wrong number.”

  The guy behind the kiosk rolls his eyes as I re-enter my code, making sure to press the correct keys this time, but the results are the same.

  “Are you sure you’re entering it correctly?” he asks, sounding beyond bored.

  “Positive.” I glance back at the growing line behind me. “Could you... um... enter it manually?”

  “Sure.”

  I pass him the card and he keys it in on his side. Whatever he sees on his side has his brow furrowing. “Your account is locked.”

  “Locked? What? Why?” Uneasiness snakes its way through me.

  “I don’t know. Just says it’s locked by a faculty member.”

  “What?” I ask again, more in outrage than in search of an actual answer. Because there’s only one person to blame for this, and he’s already at the top of my shit list.

  “You’ll have to go over to student services to get it fixed,” he says, right as Stella offers to cover my meal.

  “That won’t be necessary.” My tone is low and lethal as I slam my tray down onto the counter. Turning, I stalk toward the exit, a righteous fire burning through me. If Sterling Abbot thinks he can break me so easily, he’s got another thing coming, and I plan to hand-deliver it.

  “Emmy, where—”

  “Talk later!” I call over my shoulder without looking back. I’m a woman on a mission, and there’s not a thing on this earth that’s going to stop me from finding him and giving him a good, swift kick in the balls.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sterling

  Office hours are a fucking joke.

  Every single meeting thus far has been silver-spooned brats either offering to suck my cock for a higher grade or a good word with Ellison toward a referral letter.

  Pathetic. The whole lot of them.

  With only fifteen more minutes on the clock, I begin packing up. If anyone happens to drop by, I’ll wrangle up an acceptable excuse for my absence. Because I can’t sit here another second without losing my mind.

  I half hoped for a certain little mouse to pay me a visit, but it seems she’s even more cowardly than I first imagined. She can’t even bring herself to confront me when I pretty much admitted to intentionally setting her up to fail.

  She’s even more pathetic than the girls in here offering to fall to their knees. At least they’re willing to chase after what they want. Emmalyn though? She just hides.

  It’s a shame, really. Then again, I’m not sure why I expected more from a woman of her caliber. Liars are inherently weak, and Princess Price all but built her throne on tall tales and falsehoods.

  I check the time on my phone once more—ten minutes left. I cross the small office, raising my hand to flip off the lights and call it a day, when the door flies open with enough force that I have to jump back to keep from getting smacked in the face.

  “What in the—”

  “You have some nerve,” Emmalyn fumes, as if summoned by thought alone.

  Her eyes are molten and her cheeks tinged crimson as her unbridled rage fills the air around us, weighting it, making it hard to breathe.

  I pull a carefully blank face, careful not to show her the physical effect she’s having on me. I cock my head to the side and pout. “Aw. You mad?”

  “Fucking furious.” She shoves me back and enters the room fully, throwing the door shut behind her.

  “Good,” I growl, stepping into her space. I have no qualms about using my height to intimidate her. By hook or by crook, she will break.

  As predicted, she retreats, but the solid wood of the door halts her progress, leaving her trapped. “I hope it burns through you like a wildfire and razes every bit of happiness you have left.”

  “Why are you like this?” Her plump lower lip wobbles, and some sick part of me delights in knowing she’s trying not to cry.

  I wonder which tastes better? The salt of her tears or the sweetness of her lips?

  “Why are you a liar?” I counter with a mirthless laugh.

  “I’m not.” She shoves at my chest again, but I don’t budge. Not even an inch. Instead, I box her in closer, holding her captive in a cage made of my flesh and bone.

  “You are.” I dip lower, bringing my gaze level with hers. “You are, and you know it.” This close, I can see the flecks of gold and honey that streak her irises. She’s captivating, utterly stunning. Too bad she’s also a duplicitous bitch.

  Her breathing accelerates, though out of anger or my nearness, I can’t say.

  “I’m. Not. A. Liar.” Her voice breaks on the end as a single tear falls, rolling down her cheek, over the corner of her mouth, and off her chin.

  I unplant one hand from the wall behind her and drag my finger over the wet path before stroking my fingers over her silky dark hair.

  Her breath shudders and my lips turn up in a devious grin. I affect her, just as she does me. I’m sure of it.

  But there’s only one way to know for sure.

  I gather her long strands in my fist and tug sharply, jerking her nearer. A small gasp escapes her, yet she makes no move to push me away.

  Interesting. So very interesting.

  With her trembling lips only a hairsbreadth away from mine, she asks, “What... what are you doing?”

  I give her hair a hard yank, leveraging her mouth to mine. “Anything I want, little mouse.” I rasp the words against her pillowy lips, so soft and tempting, full and pink. They’d look phenomenal with my dick sliding in and out of them.

  “Get away from me,” she says, even as she clutches at the front of my shirt, pulling me closer.

  Her pupils are blown wide with want, and I can practically feel her heart thundering in her chest.

  “Now, you don’t mean that.” I wedge my right thigh between hers to drive home my point.

  “Don’t...” she protests weakly. Her fight is giving way to the white-hot need churning between us. I can tell she hates the way she reacts to me, but damn if this delicious development doesn’t open a million new doors, each one a straight shot to her demise.

  I grin darkly, already laying the groundwork as I claim her mouth in a kiss that’s as hot as it is demanding. I expect her to at least keep up the ruse of fighting me, but instead, she opens greedily, sucking my tongue into her mouth like it’s her favorite flavor of lollipop.

  Emmalyn Price kisses the same way she lies, with a practiced ease that borders on familiarity.

  We use our lips, teeth, and tongues as we funnel our mutual hatred for one anot
her into this mind-fuck of a kiss, licking, sucking, and biting at each other until all that’s left is a simmering desire threatening to boil over at any moment.

  “Sterling,” she whimpers, rocking against my solid thigh.

  I nip at her lower lip, dragging my hands down her body to her ass.

  Understanding my silent command, she wraps her long, toned legs around my waist.

  I thrust into the hot space between her thighs. A deep groan rips from my chest, and then—

  The sound of a door slamming down the hall has us breaking apart like two horny teens caught in the act.

  Chests heaving, we regard one another. Lust and anger duel for dominance in Emmalyn’s dark gaze, while I run the numbers on how to play this to my advantage.

  Our chemistry is undeniable, and I’d be an idiot not to find a way to exploit this burning attraction we seem to share.

  “What the...” Emmalyn whispers, seemingly caught somewhere between confusion and outrage as she tries to push away from me like she wasn’t just rubbing herself all over my leg. “What just happened?”

  Still processing this new turn of events, I don’t answer her immediately.

  “Sterling?”

  My name’s a question, one filled with equal parts loathing and longing.

  “Shh.” I press my index finger to her kiss-swollen lips. “Go back to your dorm, Emmalyn.”

  “But—”

  I lean down and stamp her lips with one last chaste kiss before stepping away from her. “Go.”

  She stares at me for a moment, but doesn’t make me tell her to go a third time.

  I chuckle darkly as she squeaks out a barely audible reply before turning and bolting out the door.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Emmy

  The sound of Sterling’s laughter, dark and deadly, chases behind me as I shoot down the hall toward the exit.

  Confusion slows me as my brain and body battle, the two no longer functioning as a cohesive unit.

  While my brain screams for me to run far and fast, my body, the stupid traitorous wench, is trembling with need, hungry for his touch.

  I’m half tempted to turn back and demand answers. But my pride makes me pump my legs faster, carrying me away from him and the warring feelings he’s stirring in me.

  The sun nearly blinds me as I barrel out of the building.

  The quad is full of students, all laughing and smiling and living, while all I’m doing is existing. And even then, just barely.

  Their laughter rachets up my distress. Because in that office, with Sterling’s body pressed against mine… I felt normal.

  How sick is that? How completely messed up am I?

  Through my tears, I see a little alcove to my left and duck into it. I collapse onto the stone bench and draw my legs to my chest, wrapping my arms around them.

  Tucked away and out of sight, I let myself break down and sob silently.

  Over and over, I replay our kiss as I rub my index finger over my lips, recalling vividly the way Sterling’s lips felt against mine, the way he tasted.

  It’s been nearly a year since my stepbrother stole my innocence, and after the unspeakable, unconscionable things he did to me, maybe I really am broken.

  I have to be, right?

  There’s no other explanation for why I not only allowed Sterling to touch me, but liked it, too. Even now, my body is singing his praises while the more logical part of me is scrambling to make sense of any of it.

  I mean, how is it possible for one man to affect me so? He can disarm as quickly as he can antagonize me. Truly, the man is infuriating. He’s cold. Cruel and calculating. He’s told me time and time again; he wants to ruin me.

  Even worse, how could I allow it? How could I allow him of all people to touch me?

  I haven’t let a man touch me since Rob. Not a single one.

  I swore that the next time I so much as held hands with a man, it would be on my terms, with someone I love and trust.

  Not a hate-kiss in a dark office, with a man who’s been so cruel.

  And what do you know... I let him.

  In more ways than one, because how will any other kiss measure up?

  I showed him my weak underbelly when I didn’t push him away. My pathetic half-assed protests may as well have been me begging for more.

  Which I would’ve done, if that door wouldn’t have slammed.

  Sterling is a bully, and everything I despise in a man, and yet my lips still burn with the flames of his kiss.

  My tears start anew as I berate myself for being so stupid. It’s not like he cares about me. If anything, his kiss is another game, meant to confuse me.

  Rob always loved to play games; they were designed to hurt and only he ever won.

  Who’s to say Sterling is any different? What’s that stupid saying… you are the company you keep? Yeah, that’s it. And Sterling and Rob have been damn near inseparable for as long as I’ve known them.

  Clearly, Sterling Abbot is dangerous. I’m weak for him and now, he knows it.

  How could I’ve let that happen? The question slams into my skull over and over, battering me until I’m on the verge of losing it.

  “Just calm down,” I mutter to myself, willing my stupid tears to dry. The fact that I’m sitting here crying over him at all is infuriating in and of itself.

  He only has power over me because I allow it. The problem is, I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t know how to wrench myself free from the hold he has over me.

  But I will. If it’s the last thing I do, I will.

  Finally, my tears dry and I force myself up from the bench. I shoot Stella a quick text asking her to meet me in our suite, if she can, before creeping out of my hiding place.

  Except, before I can step foot back onto the sidewalk, I slam into a brick wall.

  “Oof!” I stumble back, clutching my forehead.

  “Sweets.” Okay, so not a wall... a Gabe. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

  “What do they feed you?”

  He starts to flex, but something stops him. “Have you... have you been crying?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Zach!” Gabe hollers, and in the blink of an eye, he appears.

  “Yeah? Oh, Emmy. Have you been crying?”

  Gabe tips his head back, as if to say see, I told you!

  “I’m fine, guys.”

  “Tell Daddy what’s wrong,” Gabe says, linking his arm with mine.

  Zach takes up post on my other side. “Whose ass do we need to kick?”

  “If I had to guess, I’d say her TA.”

  I roll my eyes, but don’t confirm Gabe’s suspicions. “I’m fine. I promise,” I say, mostly meaning it. Something about being smooshed between the two of them has me feeling safe and secure.

  “Where are you headed?” my blond giant asks.

  “My dorm.”

  The two men exchange a look before Zach says, “We’ll walk you.”

  They pry for more information for the entirety of our walk, but my lips stay sealed.

  It’s not that I don’t want to tell them, it’s just... as crazy as it sounds, I can’t help but feel like Sterling has eyes and ears everywhere. The last thing I want is for anything to get back to him.

  We slow our pace as my building comes into sight. “Thanks, guys,” I say right as a flying blonde ball slams into me, wrapping me in a frantic hug.

  “Oh my God, Emmy! Where have you been? What happened? Did you let him have it? Who are these two hotties? Tell. Me. Every. Thing!”

  “Well, hello there, sunshine,” Gabe murmurs as Stella releases me. “Who are you?”

  My roomie’s big, blue eyes flit between my two escorts. “I’m Stella, Emmy’s roommate, and y’all are?”

  “Her daddies,” Zach says with a twinkle in his eyes.

  “What my lovely boyfriend meant to say is we’re her friends. I’m Gabe, and that fine piece of meat is Zach.”

  I zone out, my mind drifting
back to the way Sterling played me like a freaking fiddle.

  How on earth am I supposed to face him Thursday morning?

  “Hello!” Stella snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Are you coming?”

  “What? Where?”

  “Inside.” She draws the word out, the three of them staring at me expectantly. When I don’t reply, she adds, “So we can talk. Duh.”

  “Oh, um. Sure.”

  The three of them herd me through the door, down the hall, and into the elevator. I fall into an uneasy silence as the elevator car begins its ascent. There’s no doubt in my mind they’re going to grill me the second we’re in our suite. And while the idea of secrets between us unsettles me, I’m not sure I’m ready to face the consequences of what happened between Sterling and me today.

  I’m not sure I’m ready to face their judgment either, if I’m being honest.

  The elevator jerks to a stop and the doors part. On the other side stands Melanie.

  I haven’t seen her since the party last weekend, and after the day I’ve had, she is one of the last people I feel like dealing with.

  “Melanie,” Stella sneers, loyal and fierce as ever.

  “Flirted with any taken men lately, slut?” my RA hisses, her eyes narrowed in misplaced anger.

  Well, only semi-misplaced, I guess, seeing as we made out today.

  Oh, God. If they are together, not only did I let my tormentor kiss me, I also helped him cheat.

  Lovely.

  Gabe and Zach form a protective barrier around me, ushering me past Melanie.

  The second we’re inside of our suite, Stella is on me, demanding details.

  “What happened? Seriously, Emmy. Tell me—us—everything.”

  “Yes, sweets. Spill.” Gabe doesn’t hesitate, making himself comfy on our couch. His hulking frame makes the room seem ten times smaller, but I’m glad he’s here.

  Zach lowers himself to the floor in front of where Gabe’s seated, leaving the other side of the couch for Stella and me.

  Despite being smaller than me, Stella drags me to the couch and plops me down into the middle before claiming the seat beside me.

  “Dish, babe. Now.”