Gaining sight of Adrianna again, I watch her slip into the old math building, and I follow, catching her at the bottom of the stairs.
“What the fuck?” I spit, not having the patience to exchange any sort of pleasantries, cutting right to the chase. “I hope you’re happy with your little stunt back there.”
She spins around, the slight smirk on her face telling me she was expecting this sort of reaction from me. “Oh, hi, Bronx,” she says, her voice sugary sweet as she bats her eyelashes at me.
“Cut the shit, Adrianna.”
“What are you talking about?” she asks, feigning innocence.
“Leave. Olivia. Alone,” I instruct curtly.
Her eyes narrow, mask slipping. “Or what?”
My hands involuntarily ball into fists at my sides. “Or you’ll regret it. Come on, Adrianna, she didn’t do shit to you,” I point out, roughly raking a hand through my dark hair and taking a deep, calming breath.
“I’m the one who fucked up, not her,” I state, placing a hand on my chest. “I was the one who kept blurring the lines of our relationship when I should have just cut it off cold turkey. I’m sorry,” I admit earnestly. “Don’t fault her for my dumb mistakes.”
Her eyes widen in shock at my confession before they narrow, glittering with mischief, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “So you’re saying you’re the one who should be punished?”
I grit my teeth. “Listen. I can handle whatever shit and twisted games you try to throw at me but leave her out of it.”
She takes a step toward me, and I take one back, retreating. Her grin is sharp as she eyes me up and down, assessing. “Noted.”
With that, she flicks her hair over her shoulder before turning around and heading up the stairs, leaving me with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Thirty-one
Alarm
“We should really . . . get back . . . to studying,” Olivia breathes between kisses, weakly trying to pull away.
“Mmm, five more minutes,” I protest, running my hand up her spine to plunge my fingers in her soft, silky hair, deepening the kiss.
She giggles against my lips before a small moan escapes when my tongue slips past her lips and massages hers. With her knees planted on each side of my legs, straddling my lap, I tighten my hold on her hip, pulling her even closer. The small movement causes her to tantalizingly brush her hips against mine and I nearly combust at the contact.
Olivia gasps, breaking free of the kiss, pulling away and tilting her chin back, unintentionally giving me full access to her neck. I lean in and press my lips to the column of her throat, leaving a variety of delicate and open-mouthed kisses.
“You do know our lab final is in less than twelve hours, right?” she asks, her throat vibrating against my lips as she speaks.
“Mh-mm,” I hum, still planting kisses along her neck.
“We should really be studying,” she says, despite tilting her head to the side, giving me more access.
“I am,” I insist. “Trachea. Hyoid bone. Mandible,” I list, getting closer and closer to her lips.
Before I can reach her mouth, she grabs my chin, preventing me from going any farther. She gives me a stern look but all I can focus on is her mussed hair and kiss-swollen lips.
“We need to study,” she states more sternly.
I groan dramatically. “I’m tired of studying. We’ve been studying nonstop all week,” I point out.
It’s true. All week—all month, really—we’ve been studying for finals. But thankfully that all ends tomorrow for me. Luckily, the majority of my finals were Monday and Tuesday, and my last one is lab tomorrow.
“Can’t we have just a little bit of fun?” I plead. “At the very least I deserve some sort of reward for all the studying I’ve done.”
She gives me a pointed look, raising a brow. “A reward?”
“Yeah.”
