Page 46 of Darkest Obsession

I roll my eyes. “Why the fuck would I tell a panty stealing rapist that?”

“I did not rape you,” he snaps. “I wouldn’t. And… I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry, okay”

“Why did you do it? Just explain that. Girls at this school all want to date you.”

“I don’t want to date them.”

He folds his arms and something about seeing Thomas get all sassy both amuses me and pisses me off a little bit.

“So you’re God’s gift to Fox but you have to stoop so low as to assault me?”

“I swear, I didn’t mean to, Clover. I just get a bit fucked with girls.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t crush. I obsess.”

I snicker. Okay. This is the part where the rowing team comes out and makes my life a living hell right? Not only can I not believe that I struck a few solid blows on a guy twice my size, but now Thomas Bainbridge tells me that he has a crush on me? My heart feels like it’s twerking to the latest Latto track.

I obsess.

“You don’t have a crush on me.”

“Okay.”

That’s it?

“We should work together,” he says. “I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”

“You’re the only person who actually hurt me. This person just sent emails.”

“That counts as verbal abuse.”

Then I laugh. Verbal abuse? Sure, the email pissed me off, especially because I thought it came from Thomas, but it was nothing compared to the comments on the channel growing up. Millions of people criticized me in the roughest language you can think of from the day mama uploaded her birthing livestream to my last upload on the channel — the Why I’m Leaving video my parents forced me to film so I could finally break free.

“What’s so funny?” Thomas grumbles.

“Nothing. It’s just. It’s an email. What you did hurt me more.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah.”

Before I know what’s happening, Thomas closes the distance between us and grabs my wrist. I give him a bewildered look and attempt to get away from him but he just pulls me against his chest.

“You didn’t mind the kiss,” he murmurs as his eyes bore into me. “I felt your lips and I know you didn’t hate it. So yes, I’m fucked for what I did, but I very much meant to kiss you.”

“Why do you want to kiss a girl who hates you?”

“Because,” he whispers. “She’s very fucking pretty and very fucking good with a cricket bat.”

Cricket? What the hell is that? Before I can ask, Thomas presses a finger to my lips.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “But I should go. We’ll talk about the emails. Later. Be careful out there.”

Later? I don’t have time for later… I get ready to tell him as much.

Before I can protest, Thomas leans forward and kisses me. It’s better than our first kiss and I don’t fight back, I just let him kiss me. What the fuck am I doing? When he pulls away and leaves the tennis courts, I can’t stop staring at him. He’s enormous. He’s terrifying.