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Heat spreads through my limbs- an inferno that’s threatening to swallow me from the inside out.
“I want you,” I repeat, but again the words don’t come out right.
“Tell me, Rylee.”
“I want you.”
“Tell me.” He’s growing impatient, his words sharp.
I try again, but this time not even the slightest sound comes out. It’s like being in a dream—one where you’re trying so hard to run but your feet feel weighted to the ground and you can’t seem to move.
“Rylee.” His voice grows louder, his weight pressing down on me. “Rylee.”
My eyes shoot open, and I blink rapidly into the light of the room. My chest rises and falls in quick succession.
It was just a dream—I tell myself, unsure if it’s relief or disappointment that settles in my gut.
“Rylee.” I glance up to find my mom standing in my doorway, realizing it must have been her that woke me so abruptly.
“What?” I question, my voice heavy with sleep.
“You’re going to be late for school. You were supposed to be up thirty minutes ago.”
“What?” I turn, looking at the clock on my nightstand, seeing that she’s right. I overslept. “Crap!” I shoot upright. “I’m up,” I tell her, throwing back the covers before quickly climbing out of bed.
“I’m heading to the office. Make sure you eat something before you leave.”
“Okay.” I shoo her out of my doorway. “I love you. Have a good day.” I practically shut the door in her face, knowing I need to get dressed like right now.
“I love you, too,” I hear her call from the hallway, but I’m already completely submerged in my closet, frantically trying to find something to wear.
I had meant to do laundry yesterday, but instead ended up lying in bed all day, mindlessly watching reruns of I Love Lucy while trying to cyber stalk Zayden. Not that it did me any good. The man is like a ghost. Who doesn’t have Facebook or Instagram these days? Even my mom has a Facebook account.
My mind once again floats back to Saturday night. The way he showed up unannounced. How he looked when he talked about his sister. The way it felt when he kissed me. The thrill that ran through me when I felt his erection pressing into me.
I flatten a palm to my chest, feeling like I might hyperventilate just thinking about it again. Everything that happened on the porch had been unexpected, that’s for sure. But it was also really… amazing. Though I doubt it was nearly as big of a deal for him as it was for me. I’m sure he goes around kissing girls all the time. The thought twists my stomach into an unsettling knot.
I’d be lying if I said the t
hought of Zayden with another girl doesn’t drive me insane with jealousy—it absolutely does. Even if I have no claim to him. Even if Saturday night was nothing more than a low moment for him, and I was the closest available female to distract him. Even if he has no real interest in me—it doesn’t change how I feel.
Asshole or not, that kiss did something to me. Something surprising and unexpected. I’ve been physically attracted to Zayden since the first time I saw him—who wouldn’t be? And while I’ve also been intrigued by him, I didn’t expect to actually feel something. And not just the thrill and excitement of kissing him—but something real. Something deep in my chest that’s been humming ever since—despite the way he bolted afterward.
I’ve tried to reason with myself several times since then—reminding myself who Zayden Michaels really is. A man who is rumored to only be interested in one thing. A man who is in cahoots with my asshat of a stepbrother. A man who helped make my first week at a new school absolutely miserable. I can’t have feelings for him.
And then the thought dawns on me—something I hadn’t considered before now. What if that kiss—what if him showing up the way he did—what if that was all part of some scheme he and Oliver cooked up? It’s totally plausible, right?
A man who’s made it clear he doesn’t like me shows up on my porch and tells me some sob story about his sister, who probably doesn’t even exist, in an attempt to lower my guard so I don’t see what’s coming next.
My anger flares.
He wouldn’t—would he?
If I’m being totally honest with myself, I can absolutely see him doing something like that. Maybe he came here hoping to trick me into having sex with him so he and Oliver could video tape it or something. Maybe it was all part of some sick, cruel joke, but when he learned I was a virgin he changed his mind. And the way he left right after finding out—I don’t know, something doesn’t quite add up. Either he’s a complete fraud and the mask he wears around everyone else is just that—a mask, and the Zayden I saw last night is the real Zayden. Or he’s toying with me on purpose. As much as I hate to admit it, my gut instinct is telling me it’s the latter.
“HEY.” PIERCE SLIDES up next to me, leaning his shoulder against the locker next to mine. “I tried calling you yesterday to find out how Saturday night went. When you didn’t answer I started to worry that maybe they did suffocate you with a pillow.” He grins.
“Nope. I’m still breathing.” I grab a couple of books from my locker.
