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Oh wow.

“He apologized,” Riley confessed gently. “Before I left, he whispered he was sorry.”

I didn’t know what to say. Colton and Maddox were cut from the same cloth. Both were fuckboys, and both were assholes. It was almost impossible to imagine Colton doing something as sweet as to hug and apologize to Riley.

“Not all boys are Jasper,” I said again.

She nodded, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. Riley was always so cheerful, so full of life. The conflicted look on her face tore my heart apart. “Does that make me a bad person? I don’t like him. I want Grayson.”

“No, it doesn’t make you a bad person. Like you said, it was the adrenaline and in the spur of the moment. It happens, and no one has the right to judge you. If Colton hugged you and apologized, then I don’t think he’s going to spread rumors about you. I guess, he’s not like that.”

As I said the words, I came to a shocking realization.

Maddox and his buddies were one big package of douchebaggery. They were jerks, they constantly played with girls’ hearts and all they cared about was sex, sex and more sex. But I’d never seen them spreading any stupid rumors about other students. Sure, they were irritating – but they had never done anything to ruin someone’s reputation. Not like Jasper had done to Riley.

I guess… that was one good thing about Maddox and his friends.

***

Monday morning, Riley’s fear was put to rest when we walked through the gates of Berkshire, and everything was normal, like any other day. It appeared that Colton hadn’t spread any rumors, and I could tell Riley was finally able to breathe better. She was back to her smiling self in two seconds flat.

We went to our respective classes, and the day continued without any more drama.

Except… with Maddox being a constant presence in my life, I only had three hours of peace and quiet until it was time for lunch.

The hallways were empty as I walked out of Mrs. Callaway’s office, my Chemistry teacher. Our meeting ran longer than expected, and everyone was already in the cafeteria, since it was halfway through lunch now.

I made my way to my locker to deposit my textbooks, only to stop dead when I noticed who was standing there. Maddox leaned against my locker, looking like he owned it. He was everywhere I went, everywhere I wanted to go – he was there. A constant thorn in my ass.

I was starting to believe there was no escaping Maddox Coulter once he checkmated you. And that was exactly what he did to me. He put me on his radar, and then checkmate, I became his unwilling prize. No matter how much I fought and pushed back, he was there, pulling me just as hard and pushing back harder. It was a never-ending cycle, and it was starting to get tiring.

Letting out a sigh, I walked forward. As I grew closer, I noticed he had a toothpick between his lips, his dirty blond locks were rumpled and let down, instead of the man bun, and his Berkshire coat was missing. His white shirt was untucked and his tie hung loosely around his neck.

He looked like an imperfect canvas, flawed and wild. But like every piece of art, you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

It was my first time seeing him like this. His godly appearance had been replaced with something imperfect and… humane.

“What do you want?” I asked, stopping next to him.

He chewed on his toothpick, thoughtfully. “You hurt me,” he said, simply, as if he was announcing the weather.

“When? How? Oh right, probably in your nightmare.” I punched in the code to my locker, opened it, and slammed my textbooks inside.

He finally stared down at me, his lips crooked and his eyes lit with mischief. “So, you agree, you’re a pain in my ass?”

Me, a pain in his ass? This was the joke of the century.

“I’m not roses, Maddox. If you’re going to make my life difficult, I’m going to be the thorn that pricks you. Don’t expect me to be all smiles, hearts and googly eyes. I’m not that girl.”

He kept the toothpick in the corner of his mouth as he spoke. “I know you’re not.”

When I didn’t answer, he slowly rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbow. The same arm I bit yesterday. He shoved his arm into my face and a huge, red bite mark stared back at me.

My eyes widened at the angry looking mark. I grabbed his forearm for a closer inspection. That couldn’t be from when… I bit him, right?

"You hurt me,” he said again.

I… did.

“Look at it. It hurts so bad; my arm has been aching the whole time.”

My gaze flew up to his, and I would have thought he was serious if I didn’t notice the twinkle in his eyes.

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