“Fucking stay away from her,” I continue, my voice low again. “And Jack, for that matter.”
“What are you, in love with them or something? Is that why you’re keeping guys away from her?” he grits out, and I dodge his arm trying to lash out at my face.
With a groan I turn him around, smashing his front against the lockers and holding his arms to his back with one hand as the other one grips the back of his head to push his face deeper against the rough metal.
“My reasons are my own,” I growl in his ear, not bothering to explain myself. “You just fucking listen to me and stay away. Or you won’t like what I’ll do to you. Here and now? Just a warning. You don’t go to her room, and you don’t fucking text her. And if I ever see you talk to her again…” I press his body harder, pulling on his hair before smashing it again on the metal locker door.
“Okay, okay!” he yells, keeping still. “I’m sorry! No piece of ass is worth that kind of trouble, just fucking let me go!”
I frown, and smash his head one more time a little harder. He grunts in pain.That will leave a mark.Good. A reminder of what’ll happen if he tries to get in her bed again.
“If you ever tell her—”
“I won’t! Jeez, I’ll fucking avoid her like the plague! I don’t even care, just let go of me!”
I step to the side, grabbing the back of his jacket to shove him away. He stumbles and barely avoids a collision with the bench in the middle of the room when he falls down. He stands up quickly, not stable on his feet, and runs out of the locker room without a backward glance.
I’m gonna have to keep an eye on him. The last thing I need is for that Jerk to go tell Prudence of our little encounter. I don’t mind Jack hearing about it though, as he’ll probably be glad that I took care of it.
I let myself fall heavily on the bench with a sigh.
What is that girl doing to me? I should be out with Jack, having drinks, doing what I was doing the last three years. Having sex. Not caring.
And here I am. Caring. Thinking about her, walking circles in her room while she waits for a guy who’s not going to show up. I saw her when he offered to model for her. She looked so happy. Hopeful. But not in the way she was hoping him showing up would turn to something more. In the way that she was happy to draw, to do something she loves and improve something she was struggling with. And that asshole was trying to take advantage of that. Thinking he would show up there, take off his shirt and it would lead up to them having sex.
Would it have? Was she interested in him in that way?
The thought makes my throat tighten and my stomach clench in knots.
And I want to punch myself in the fucking face for it.
I have no right to feel this way about her. Scaring jerks away from her is one thing, feeling jealousy is something entirely different. Something I’m not entitled to.
I check the time on my phone. She’s probably started pacing already, as he should have arrived in her room five minutes ago. She’s going to be disappointed. At least for not being able to practice.
I slide my hands in my hair nervously, pulling on the strands.
I should go.
I should step up. At least so she can sketch. Even if it’s not fucking Jerkwood. It doesn’t have to be him, does it? She said she was struggling with chest muscles. I have more than enough.
I stand up abruptly, cursing under my breath, my selfishness battling internally with my conscience, winning that particular battle.
I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m just stepping in to help her. Spending time alone with her for the first time ever is just a bonus. Jack doesn’t have to know, even though my conscience is saying that it would be a lie by omission. It’s not. He would misunderstand it for what it’s not; me trying to sleep with his sister. Which I’m not, I repeat to myself as I speed walk through the corridors, towards her dorm.
I don’t care that she’s beautiful. That her smile lights up the room. That her laugh makes my heart miss beats and her scent makes me want to rub my whole face in her neck and more. She’s fucking off limits.
I stop in front of her room, a little breathless and—fuck me—sweaty. I cast a glance around me and cringe. Why are all these girls just talking outside their rooms in the corridor? Why are they all staring at me like they’re going to rip my clothes to shreds?
I gulp, focusing back on the door and exhale slowly before knocking.
As soon as my knuckles hit the door, some of the girls stop chatting, their eyes drilling holes in the back of my head. Fuck. That’ll teach me to sleep around and make a reputation for myself… What if Prue knows about said reputation? What if she closes the door in my face because she thinks that I’m here for that? What if—
Why is she not answering her door? I’ve been standing here for at least two minutes, and I’m sure more girls have come out of their rooms to stare at me.
I clear my throat and knock again, a little harder.
Fuck, what if Jerkwood didn’t listen and came here? What if they’re—
