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“You okay?” I ask Gavin.
“Yeah,” he says, but he sounds anything but.
“I’d say he’s better than Attie. You kind of de-balled him right in front of most of our friends in the lunchroom, Luna.”
“I tried to be gentle.” I sigh, wishing this could have gone differently. I feel guilty.
“Trust me, he doesn’t deserve your guilt, Moonbeam. Besides, if he knew he had it, he’d use it against you. That’s how Atticus works.”
“Gavin, your brother’s not like that, at least not around us,” I tell him, hating everything about this situation.
“Damn I’m suddenly glad I’m an only child,” Jules responds, staring at Gavin.
“You should be,” he answers in a gruff tone.
Yikes.
“I better go check on Attie. He’s a bit of a whining puppy at times, but that was kind of brutal,” Jules says surprising me.
“We still hanging after school tonight?” I ask her, anxious to change the subject.
“Yeah. Mom’s picking us up after seventh period.”
“Sounds good. Love you.”
“Ditto. Later, Gavin.”
“Later,” he says as Jules walks away in the direction that Atticus disappeared to.
“Well, that wasn’t much fun.”
“It sure wasn’t,” Gavin agrees.
“How about we sneak into the gymnasium and make out under the bleachers?” I suggest, needing desperately to erase the dark cloud that seems to have settled over both of us.
“What about our next class?”
“I say we skip it.” I grin up at him feeling brave.
“Luna Marshall, are you trying to be a bad girl?”
“You have no idea how bad,” I respond. “Are you game?” I tease, backing away from him and holding out my hand.
“Lead the way,” he says, threading his fingers through mine, with a grin. The smile doesn’t reach his eyes, but eventually I think I can make that happen.
It’ll be fun to try either way…
Chapter Twenty Seven
Jules
“What are you doing here?” Atticus barks the minute I walk into the weight room.
Like he didn’t know I’d follow him. Hell, if he wants to be honest with himself, this is why he went to the weight room to begin with. Boys are so stupid. They think with their dicks and it takes forever for their brains to finally catch up.
“I came to check on you, dickhead. Not sure why I bothered.”
“I don’t either, I don’t want you here.”
“Just because Luna shot you down in front of the whole school, doesn’t mean you have to be a bastard to me, you know.”
“She didn’t shoot me down,” he argues, and I don’t even bother to hide the look on my face. He can’t be that stupid and he can’t expect me to be.
“Dude, she blasted you with a nuclear bomb.”
“She’s just confused.”
“Bullshit. It’s time to man up, Attie. Luna doesn’t want you. She likes what your brother is giving her much more.”
Perhaps I should have watched what I said a little better. I see the anger that comes over Atticus’s face. It shouldn’t excite me—a wiser woman would be scared, but, I like it. He reaches out and grabs me roughly. My arm will have a large bruise on it later and that thrills me too. His hand snakes out and wraps around my throat and he pushes me back against the wall hard.
“Why do you always have to be such a bitch?” he growls.
“It’s a gift,” I tell him, gasping to get the words out and still barely able to because his hold is so tight. I can barely breathe.
“You shouldn’t tease a man, Jules. You may live to regret it.”
“I don’t see a man here,” I mock, knowing I’m pushing him over the edge, but unable to stop myself. I want to see what he does when he loses control. At first, I thought Atticus was fun to tease. Now, I think we may be more alike than I realized.
“Such a damn bitch. Someone should have done something about your smart mouth before now.” His voice rumbles and it feels like it echoes inside of me.
His lips come down hard, crushing against mine, as his tongue thrusts into my mouth. The entire time, his hand is still tight on my throat, holding me into place. I try to fight him, not because I don’t want what he’s doing, but because fighting him excites both of us. My fingers claw into his sides, and I know that I’m drawing blood. He bites my lip in retaliation and pain spreads through my body, making me feel alive. We kiss until we are forced to break apart, our lungs too deprived of air. He steps away from me, wiping my kiss away with the back of his hand. Attie also wipes away the smear of blood there from the wound he made on my lips.
“You’re twisted,” he says, staring at me, his chest heaving as he takes in oxygen.
“Takes one to know one, lover.” I grin at him, licking the blood from his bite.
