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She was flashy and screamed she needed attention.
She flipped her hair over her shoulder and looked at me, her fake lashes in place, the highlight on her cheekbones catching the light in this holographic glow. She raked her eyes up and down me, no doubt doing inventory on how I wasn’t like her, on how I was lacking.
And when she turned to face me, all I wanted to do was tell her to fuck off.
Her gaze moved away from me and down the hall, and as I saw her grin widen, I followed her line of sight to see Cannon coming toward his locker. A few of his buddies trailed behind, one of them tossing a football up and down, their letterman jackets telling everyone their status.
I straightened, and as he came closer, I saw the bruise underneath his eye, a nasty black and blue one that looked pretty damn painful. It was clear it was no coincidence that he and Ryan were both sporting battle wounds.
He had yet to notice me, his focus on his phone, a crease between his eyes. A second later, he shoved his cell in the front pocket of his jeans and looked up, our gazes clashing and his expression softening as he smiled. He stopped in front of me, waving off his friends, and although there were people all around us, I felt like we were alone, the silence settling, this heaviness on my shoulders.
Before I could say anything, I felt Rachel step up beside us before I heard her annoying voice.
“Omg, Cannon,” she cooed and reached out to touch him. But before she could make contact, he tilted his head to the side so she wouldn’t touch him.
Good.
“What, Rachel?” He sounded annoyed.
“What happened?” Her fake concern grated on my nerves.
“It’s nothing.” He looked at her but showed no expression. It was clear Rachel was still trying to weasel her way into Cannon’s life. “What did you need?” Although he wasn’t being rude, his voice was void of emotion.
She pursed her lips. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay. I bet the other guy looks worse.” The bell rang before Cannon could say anything, if he was going to, and she gave him a coy smile before turning to leave. “See you later,” she said and looked at me after she said it.
Bitch.
I looked at Cannon and sighed. “Your eye,” I said softly and lifted my hand, gently touching his cheek. He didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away and that melted me even more.
I didn’t know why I felt so threatened by Rachel. It was clear she was nothing to Cannon.
His blue eyes bore into mine. “It’s nothing,” he said in a deep, gravelly voice.
I noticed a cut on his upper lip and a light bruise moving along his jaw. I dropped my hand back to my side, looking into his eyes, wanting him to tell me what happened so I didn’t have to pry about it.
“It’s nothing.” He turned from me and opened his locker, shoving his books inside.
I stared at that bruise, that split lip. It was clear he wasn’t going to just admit it. “Why can’t you just tell me it’s because of Ryan?” I saw the way his body tensed, how he froze. After a second, he finally looked over at me and exhaled slowly. “You went back there, didn’t you? After you dropped me off?”
He didn’t move, didn’t respond for a suspended moment, but then he slowly nodded.
“Yeah, it’s because of him. I had to,” he said as if there’d been no other choice.
I leaned my shoulder against the locker. “Why? Why couldn’t you just leave it alone?”
He lifted his hand and rubbed his other eye, as if he were frustrated, maybe with himself, maybe with me because I was asking.
“I told you he wasn’t worth it.”
“I had to do it because I couldn’t stop myself, Stella. I had to protect you.” He dropped his hand to his side and stared into my eyes. “The asshole wouldn’t stop. He would’ve kept going until it got worse, until he did something and I wasn’t there to protect you.”
My throat tightened at his words.
“I’m not sorry I did what I did, because I’d do it all over again. I’d beat his fucking ass until he couldn’t walk, Stella.” He took a step closer until there was only a small sliver of space between us. “I’d do it all over again to make sure you were safe because you mean that much to me.”
13
Stella
I sat in the bleachers, the Friday night lights bright against the football field, the players moving back and forth, each one trying to gain dominance, get the ball.
I should’ve been focusing, but all I could keep thinking about was what Cannon had said this morning, how he’d looked into my eyes and said with such passion that he’d hurt anyone who tried to hurt me.
