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Everyone heard that and now they all have their mouths open in shock.
But not me.
I’m not shocked at what he said and how rudely he’s behaving. I’m not shocked that he’s being this new, cut-open Arrow.
Unfortunately, I like it.
Unfortunately, it excites me.
This excitement that I’m feeling has nothing on the excitement that I used to feel at the sight of the old Arrow, the one who would be all restrained and unruffled.
It’s unreal, this excitement. It’s the stuff they should bottle and sell on empty streets to bleak, miserable souls. So they can inject it in their veins and be forever high.
When the girl who called me a reject almost drops to the ground to do his bidding, I can’t stop the tremble in my belly and my legs.
I can’t stop the pounding of my heart. She hands me the books with a glare and I hug them to my chest.
“Good choice.” Then to everyone else, “Show’s over. You can resume your own lives now.”
Afraid, they all jump to do his bidding too and I hear him mutter, “Fucking schoolgirls.”
I spin around then.
And see him for the first time since he arrived on the scene.
He has his usual clothes on, his gym t-shirt and sweats, all gray, all freaking sexy. The barely-there sleeves of his shirt putting his biceps on display, tanned and strong, covered with dark hair, and I curse myself that I didn’t explore the texture of his skin, the contours of his arms back when I had the chance.
The arms he uses to catch me when I fall.
I didn’t touch them enough that one night when I was his friend.
Stupid Salem.
Because there’s no way he’d want to be my friend anymore. I don’t want to be his friend anymore.
What an awful idea that turned out to be.
I always knew I was dangerous. I always knew my love would drive me to do desperate, awful things.
Greedy things. Hungry things.
Things like attacking him with my mouth.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I say in a hesitant voice.
He takes his time responding though.
He fills the silence with his heavy eyes, which he uses to survey me.
And he does it in such an intimate way that I’m surprised the world hasn’t caught on yet.
That he’s more than my coach.
That he’s my Arrow.
I hug the books even tighter to my chest and shift on my feet.
“Done what?” he finally asks, lifting his eyes.
“Saved me like that.”
“And why’s that?”
“B-because they’ll think you’re giving me special treatment. Since I lived with you and all.”
The tight set of his jaw says that he doesn’t like that. “Has someone said something to you about that?”
I shake my head. “That’s not the point.”
“This isn’t the first time this has happened to you, is it?” he concludes in a low tone, the silver chain around his neck glinting dangerously as he folds his arms across his chest.
I try not to look at the grooves of his sides that he’s exposed by that movement. “It doesn’t matter. It’s –”
“Next time someone gives you trouble, you come to me,” he orders.
“What?”
“I will take care of it.”
His low-spoken command sends a rush of warmth through my body. A rush of goosebumps and thundering heartbeats.
He’ll take care of me like he did just now.
But the thing is, I don’t deserve his help.
I tried to make advances on him when I promised myself that I wouldn’t. When I know he doesn’t need those things since he’s still coming out of the breakup.
Besides I’m not a rat.
So I tamp down all my shivers, take a deep breath and say, “You don’t have to. I can handle it myself.”
I stop when he unfolds his arms, and completely ignoring what I just said, states in the most professional voice ever, “And I’d like to see you in my office, please. After you’re done with your dinner.”
I look to the side, confused. “What?”
“I have something that I’d like to discuss with you.”
“But –”
“And I’ve decided that you’re done avoiding me now.” Then he does the most coach-ly thing ever. He taps at his big leather-strapped wristwatch with his finger and tips his chin to get me moving. “See you in an hour.”
With that, he walks away, leaving me all shocked.
Apparently, he can still shock me because I didn’t think he would take matters into his own hands.
About the fact that I’ve been ignoring him.
I have actually.
I knew he’d noticed too. I mean, it’s a little hard not to notice when every time I see him in the hallway, I duck my head or turn around and walk away, blushing like crazy for trying to kiss him.
But I didn’t know he would summon me to his office for avoiding him.
It’s a good thing though.
I’ve been acting like a coward. I need to apologize for what I did.
I made him apologize, didn’t I? It’s only fair.
