It’s far more interesting to see him squirm in his seat from the mere memory of her perfectly manicured nails latched around his throat.
If only …
That could’ve been me.
I sigh out loud.
Why would she give such a gift to him? She doesn’t even know him, doesn’t care about him. Not that she knows me, but she should. She definitely should get to know me just as well as she thinks she knows him.
What were they talking about? Some kind of hush-hush secrets no one else is privy to?
I must find out. But how?
My eyes narrow as I keep my gaze fixated on the two of them, while Xavier tries his best to avoid eye contact with me. I know he sees me staring, and I don’t care in the slightest. I want him to know that I’m invested in this now, and that I won’t let this go.
He knows something about her that she clearly didn’t want anyone to know.
If I want to inject myself into her life, he is the key that will unlock her door.
When class is over, she immediately waltzes off on those knife-shaped heels of hers, and the moment she’s left, the air in the room feels much less … heavy.
Deadly.
I miss her already.
But she won’t grant me a single look until I figure out what it is that makes her tick. And the only way to do that is by grilling Xavier.
He packs up his things without ever looking my way, then slowly saunters out of class. He’s zoomed out of his mind, and it’s gotten me curious beyond belief.
If I don’t end up murdered for interfering, at least I’ll have plenty of inspiration for my poetry.
I drift through class and pass by several students before I finally manage to latch onto him in the hallways. The moment my hands touch his shoulders, he jolts up and down like a scared little puppy.
“Jesus,” he mutters.
I chuckle. “Something’s gotten under your skin. Could it be something fleshy, with nails sharp as knives, a smile equally deadly?” I throw my arm over his shoulder. “Green highlights flittering in her hair … and I am green with envy.”
“What? What are you talking about?” he grumbles, trying to wriggle his way out of my arm, but I won’t let him.
“What? Orwho?” I muse, tossing my blond curls over my shoulder. “You’re avoiding my question.”
“Because you’re spouting bullshit,” he retorts.
“You’ve talked with the most exquisite creature on the planet, and all you can say is that my words are manure from male cattle?”
“That’s one way to put it.”
I drag him into an empty hallway so no one can hear us. “We should speak.”
“Let go of me,” he growls, throwing my arm off his shoulder.
“She went to you for a reason. Why?”
He looks up at me with stone-cold brown eyes. “None of your business.”
He’s gotten himself into something he doesn’t know how to deal with, and he’s handling it so very poorly.
“You made it the entire class’s business fumbling that.”
