She giggles into my mouth, and I fucking lose it. She tastes just as sweet as she smells and kisses even better. Her teeth catch my bottom lip and she pulls on it teasingly.
“Fuck,” I groan, my hands roaming up the curve of her spine as she arches into me.
“Now, Ilovethat my girl went out to play,” Landon’s voice cuts through the room like a blade wrapped in velvet, his teasing London accent thick and smug, “but I’m fairly certain I told you tostay homeuntil I got back.”
I freeze mid-kiss, lips still parted, breath tangled with Brooke’s, and I want toscream.
“Fuck,” I hiss under my breath, slowly pulling away from Brooke’s mouth, her lip gloss still clinging to mine. My hands linger on her hips.
“How thefuck—” I start.
“Peach,” Landon says flatly, voice low and stern, “I’ve got a tracker on you.”
I spin around, jaw tight, eyes locked on his smug, infuriating face. He’s leaning against the doorframe like he doesn’t have a care in the world, sleeves rolled, expression dark with amusement. “Wouldn’t be a very good stalker if you didn’t,” I bite out.
He steps forward—lazy, predatory, eyes dragging over me and then flicking to Brooke like she’s a detail in the background. “You see,Ido my job. Butyou, Peach... you don’t listen.” His voice drops an octave, velvet-wrapped steel. “You’ve beenverynaughty.”
Before I can spit fire back, Brooke’s voice slides in behind me—cool and unfazed.
“I’m sorry,” she says, hopping down from the counter and pressing up against my back, her soft curves flush with mine. One arm slips casually around my waist. “Is this guy bothering you? Need me to call the police?”
“No,” I blurt—too fast, too defensive.
Landon’s smirk sharpens like a blade. “Didn’t know I needed to be arrested for doing my job.”
“He’s my... bodyguard,” I mumble, turning to face Brooke again.
“Bodyguard?” she snorts, one brow raised like she doesn’t buy it for a second.
“Yeah,” I say, forcing a small, tight smile. “I have to go.”
Brooke steps forward, slipping her hand beneath my chin and tugging my face gently to hers. She plants a slow kiss on my cheek, lips lingering just enough to make Landon’s jaw clench.
“Don’t worry, sugar,” she murmurs, voice honey-thick and wicked. “I’ll see you at the chapel.”
Fuck this girl --I think I might combust.
I don’t say a word as I shove past him and out the front door of the frat house, heels clacking hard against the pavement. My fists are clenched, my jaw locked. I can still taste Brooke on my lips.
Landon follows behind me like a shadow—quiet, steady, infuriatingly calm.
By the time we reach the building, I’m stomping ahead of him like I want the ground to feel my rage. I slap the elevator button with more force than necessary, eyes fixed straight ahead. My skin still burns with leftover adrenaline, and my chest feels too tight with everything I didn’t get to finish.
The elevator doors slide open, and I step inside without looking back. Landon follows—of course he does—and as soon as the doors close behind us, he steps in close.
Too close.
He looms behind me, heat bleeding off his chest into my back. One hand lifts, knuckles brushing the wall beside my head. His voice is low and thick, words curling hot against my ear.
“You kiss her like that on purpose?” he murmurs, voice low and smooth. “Make me watch just to see if I’d do something about it?”
I say nothing. My jaw is too tight to risk opening my mouth.
He chuckles softly, breath curling against my skin. “See, that’s the thing about me, Peach. I don’t mind sharing.”
His hand drags lightly down my arm leaving fireworks in his wake.
“Ilikewatching you be bad,” he whispers. “Because in the end? You still come home tome.”
