“Shit! Shit! Shit!”
I don’t bother going to the usual spot to have lunch with Bryce and Eden. They’ll be able to read my face and know something happened in the library that I can’t explain. I can’t let anyone know.
This isn’t part of the plan. Getting close to him—yes. Getting him to trust me—check. But letting him feel me up—hell no!Andwanting more of it?
Absolutely fucking not.
I stay in the library. Edge is right. I’m unable to concentrate on anything other than the feeling and the memory of him touching me, inducing sensations that make it impossible to think straight. All I want to do is touch myself, imagining my hand is his, and finish what he started. I consider going to the bathroom to do just that when I stop myself, refusing to be that desperate. Instead, I crush my thighs together and ignore the pulsing between my legs.
I skipped out on the rest of my classes, staying in the library totryand study. When my head feels like it’s going to explode, I pack my stuff and head for my bike. I’m zipping my backpackwhen I look up to see Venom and their groupies standing no more than five feet away. My shitty timing sucks lately. My steps slow when the onslaught of them forms a wall between where I am and where I want to go.
The clicks of too-high heels and the heavy footfalls of boots echo off the corridor’s stone walls. Seeing Brielle standing next to Edge twists my insides. Option one, I can take this chance to show the jealousy that has slithered into my chest, or option two, I can beat the shit out of Brielle, or option three, I can turn and walk away. Option three is the most responsible and mature approach, but it’s also the least fun and unsatisfying. Option two would most definitely make me feel better. And after how Edge left me in the library, I already feel very unsatisfied.
After dismissing the other options, I create a new one. I let my backpack slide down my shoulder. It thumps on the floor by my feet. Without moving my eyes from Edge’s, I take off my blazer, then slide down my skirt, kick it off, catch the flying fabric with the toe of my boot, and shove them into my bag. I unbutton my shirt, slide it off, then tie it around my waist. Picking up my backpack, I hang the strap over my shoulder.
“You are such a nasty slut. No matter how many clothes you take off, no one will ever want your stank ass,” Brielle snaps.
I smile at Brielle. “You’re welcome.”
She sneers. “Welcome for what?”
For not taking option two,I say to myself. To her, I say, “For priming him.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
I glance over her head to meet Edge’s eyes. He’s biting the corner of his lip as he gives me a simple wink meant for no one else. I move my gaze back to her. Then I take a step forward, with the only intention of letting her know she can’t get to me.
“What, you want to fight, biker girl?” Brielle tries to provoke me as she starts toward me.
Edge places his hand on her shoulder. “Bri, I wouldn’t if I were you.”
She places her hand over his. He slides his out from underneath it. “What, you don’t want me to break a nail over this piece of trash?”
Gunner laughs. Even I crack a smile.
Edge grumbles, “Oh, trust me, you’ll have more than that broken.”
Brielle ignores him. Her enraged glare is still on me.
“Keep your panties on, Brielle. I’m not fighting you.” But shit me if I don’t feel tingles down my spine at the idea of kicking her ass.
Catching Kade’s eyes, I ask, “When’s that race?”
He flicks his tongue bar. “Soon.”
I smile and nod. “Looking forward to it.”
“What fucking race?” the rest of them ask behind me as I walk away.
The clouds are heavy with the threat of afternoon rain. They’re like a mirror image of the thoughts and feelings thrashing in my head and heart. I put on my helmet, lower my visor, and race out of the parking lot. Just because I can, I lift the front of the bike up into a wheelie.
A light rain begins to fall as I pull onto my street. I make it onto my driveway just as the heavy downpour starts. It’s not the getting wet that sucks. It’s the needle-like pinpricks as each drop splatters against my already-sensitive skin. I feel like it’s on fire, unable to cool down from Edge’s touch. I throw my bag under the porch’s overhang and walk out into the rain.
I ache to have every emotion washed away, to cleanse every tear of pain, every memory of his touch. I can’t have him being a distraction. I can’t afford to feel something for him, but damn, he isn’t backing off. And fuck if I don’t want him to.
An engine revs, grabbing my attention. I open my eyes and lower my arms.
Kade idles in his Ferrari in front of my house. He lowers his window enough to shout, “Want to go for a ride?”
