Page 118 of Riot House

Page List
Font Size:

Elodie Stillwater is the most breathtaking creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Her newly dark hair is pulled back into a purposefully messy bun, long, wavy tendrils hanging down on either side of her face. Her eyes are even more blue with the warm, early morning light washing over her face, highlighting the freckles that have started to spring up across the bridge of her nose.

She chews on the end of a ball point pen, her eyebrows slightly arched in amusement as she watches me walk toward her. The seat next to her is notably empty. It’ll be another week or two before Carina’s released from the hospital. She’s been doing her schoolwork from her hospital bed. Dash has been taking it over there to her every evening, claiming that he’s going to the ‘gym.’ Hah.

I stand in front of Elodie, pointing with my chin at the open spot next to her. “Shall I do the whole,‘this seat taken?’thing, or do I get to maintain the illusion that I’m still cool?”

She pouts, considering this. “I suppose I’ll save you from the cliché. But only because you look hot in that shirt.”

I run my hand over my chest. “What this old thing?” I’m glowing like a fucking moron from the compliment, though. It’s one thing knowing you look good—I do. Sorry—and another thing entirely when the girl you love most in the world tells you so. Horrified, I suspect that I might even be blushing.Blushing, for Christ’s sake. Who the fuckamI?

I throw myself down onto the seat next to her, and I can feel the gaze of every other student in the room homing in on us. At the front of the class, Damiana makes a strangled, choking sound when I spin around, throwing my legs over the arm of the sofa, laying my head in Elodie’s lap. Her mouth opens a fraction, a flash of surprise in her eyes, but she recovers herself quickly, toying with the ends of my hair, winding it around her fingers.

“If you’re not careful, people might start to get the wrong idea about us, Jacobi,” she jokes.

“Can’t have that, can we?” I catch hold of her hand and gently kiss the inside of her wrist, enjoying the way her pupils double in size at the open, public display of affection. She’s on the back foot. Likely, she thought I’d sit with her and keep my hands to myself, but I’ve gone way beyond that. The thing is, I didn’t have anything to worry about. ’Cause this is nowhere as frightening as I thought it was going to be. Turns out I’ve been panicking over nothing; it’s freeing as fuck to have everything out in the open, for everyone to see.

“Feeling pretty pleased with yourself?” Elodie asks, quirking an eyebrow at me.

“Yes.” I nod. “Very.”

“Oh, yeah? How quickly are you gonna fly across the room if I try kissing youon the mouth?”She gives me a look that’s half dare, half mockery.

“My ass will remain firmly in this seat, no matter where you decide you wanna kiss me.” I look suggestively down at my dick, unable to resist the opportunity to tease her. Good God, I’m never going to get used to this. She’s so fucking beautiful. So fucking perfect. So fucking mine. Her cheeks color bright pink, and I have to fight the urge to drag her out of the classroom and up to her room, so I can fuck her brains out.

She’s feeling brave, though. She tries to duck down to kiss me, but it’s impossible in our current position. I help her out by popping up onto my elbow, meeting her halfway. The kiss isn’t overtly sexual. I keep the tongue to a minimum. We’re not animals. At least Elodie’s not, and I don’t want to embarrass her. It’s a smoldering kiss—a slow burn, packed with emotion, a heat kindling between us that I’ll most definitely have to address later. I cup her face, stroking my fingers down the back of her neck, making her shiver, and an exasperated shout goes up on the other side of the room.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!Seriously?” None other than Pax, naturally. Something hits the back of my head—balled up paper by the feel of it—but I don’t pull away. I don’t do that until ahailof paper begins raining down on us, hurled and thrown by the rest of the other students, too.

Elodie laughs against my mouth. “Okay, you’ve proved your point. You’re fearless. I think they want us to stop now.”

I give her bottom lip a quick tug between my teeth before I let her go. “Lucky, Little E. Saved by your fellow classmates.”

“He—oh. Hello, class. Young man, if you wouldn’t mind putting down that poor girl, I’ll pretend that I didn’t see any of that.” At the front of the room, a woman in her early thirties hovers by the new chalkboard that’s been freshly installed in between the book cases. I twist around in my seat, slouching down into the sofa next to Elodie, earnestly pretending to study the ceiling. However, just like everyone else in the room, I study the interloper, scoping her out. She’s pretty. Sweet-looking, like she bakes on the weekend and feeds the birds outside her kitchen window. I catch Dashiell elbowing Pax in the ribs—a dig hard enough to knock the air right out of him—but Pax doesn’t even seem to notice. He’s staring at this new person like he’s just unveiled the face of God and he cannot look away.

The woman smiles, clears her throat, and takes us all in.

“Class, my name is Jarvis Reid. You can call me Jarvis. As you’ve probably surmised, I’m your new English teacher. I’ve just moved to Mountain Lakes from New York and I’m still figuring out where everything is at the academy, so please bear with me while I get the lay of the land. If one of you would like to catch me up on what you’ve been studying, that would be a good start.”

Pax hops to his feet. He smiles the kind of smile that’s destroyed the hearts of countless supermodels from Rome to London and back again. “Hi Jarvis. I’d be happy to lend a helping hand.”

Elodie and I trade a look that says it all.

Christ.

Here we go again.