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“Do you even know what UFC is?” he asked. There was something almost like suspicion in his voice, though he let me pull him along to the bathroom. I chose the men’s room, figuring it was better for me to invade that one than to invite Kace into the ladies’ room.
“Yeah. My father actually liked watching it. Said it was his trashy guilty pleasure,” I explained with a shrug. “Although he never let me watch.”
I set down my books and school bag just inside the bathroom door, went to the paper towel dispenser, and then crossed to the sink to soak them. When they were wet, I waved Kace over.
“Give me your hand,” I instructed.
His brow quirked, his broad features registering surprise, but he said nothing. Shockingly, he did what I asked with no resistance, holding out his bloodied hand with his knuckles up. I took it, dabbing the blood from his skin where he’d punched the boy.
The sight of blood had never bothered me, thank goodness, although I did feel a little queasy when I remembered the loud crunch I’d heard as his fist had connected with the boy’s nose and the spray of blood that had erupted like a geyser.
“Why did you do that?” I asked, keeping my gaze trained on the back of his hand as I worked.
“What?”
I rolled my eyes. “You know what. Stop the fight. You guys aren’t exactly the Hardy Boys, but you’re all very much about… I don’t know, stepping in when something bad is about to happen. Or is in the process of happening. I just don’t get it.”
His knuckles were clean, but I lingered on them a little longer, noticing the weight of his hand in mine, the warmth of his skin.
As I moved on to his nose, he shrugged.
“There’s nothing you need to get. We keep order in the school. Sometimes you need to use violence to keep order.”
I’d studiously avoided his gaze as I worked on his knuckles, but now that I was cleaning up his bloodied nose, it was impossible. Against my will, my gaze trailed up, catching on his light, moss-green eyes.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I murmured.
“Of course it does. You show that you’re bigger and badder than the moron who’s parading all over, waving his dick around, you get to come out on top. Bish, Misael, and I? We dominate. We just don’t do it indiscriminately. There’s a method. A reason. When people behave, we’re fine with them. When they don’t, they get what Caleb got.”
Ah, so that’s what that boy’s name is.
Still, it was a little strange.
“How can you dominate and call it a good thing?” My curiosity was genuine as I pulled away, moving to pull more dry paper towels from the dispenser.
; Kace laughed. “Domination ain’t always a bad thing, Princess. You might actually enjoy it if you weren’t so prim and proper.”
I paused on my way back to him, my footsteps stuttering to a halt. That concept had never even occurred to me. And the way he said it, that I might enjoy it…
It sounded like…
Oh.
I blushed but resumed walking quickly, trying to hide the thoughts racing through my mind, hoping Kace hadn’t noticed my reaction to his words. Stepping close to him again, I dabbed at his face and knuckles with the dry paper towels, keeping my movements fast and barely daring to inhale.
He was so big, his presence so overwhelming, and I was standing so close to him that I felt tiny in comparison. He had a faintly spicy scent, an addictive aroma that seemed to cling to his skin. He was wearing a dark t-shirt today, its color a striking contrast to the light blond of his hair. It stretched across his chest as he shifted beneath my touch.
“You’re curious,” he murmured, his voice a soft rasp. “You want to know what it’s like. I can see it in your eyes.”
My gaze flicked to his, my heart rate picking up so fast it left me dizzy.
Oh God. He did notice. How does he always notice so much?
“I—I don’t know what you mean.” My voice was low as I moved to grab the collection of paper towels to throw them away. But before I could step away from him, Kace reached out and threaded his fingers through the hair at the back of my head, stopping me in place.
“Don’t you?” he asked, looking me dead in the eyes.
