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I wonder if he tastes good too.
Penn
As soon as I walk into the lunchroom, Leah nearly runs me over, panic in her eyes.
“We need to talk,” she hisses, looking over her shoulder. “My dad told me some seriously messed up stuff this morning of what he expects of me.”
I cringe and nod. “I got that talk last night from my dad.”
Her eyes are wide from behind her glasses. “They can’t really expect us to follow through. It’s so archaic.” She lets out an angry huff. “Besides, you’re g—”
Cope’s hand muffles her words as he hugs her from behind. “Leah, Leah, Leah. What we know doesn’t always need to be said. There’s a lot at stake here.” He releases her and she gives him a nod of understanding.
My dad cannot find out that I’m gay. Practically yelling it in the middle of the lunchroom would get back to him before I could even sit down and eat my meal.
“Come on,” Cope tells her, throwing an arm over her shoulders. “Let’s talk outside.”
As he guides her out of the lunchroom, I follow behind, trying hard not to check out his ass. But it’s not my fault he wears these damn black skinny jeans that make his ass look way too good. Darting my eyes away, I end up looking right at Ivy.
For a moment, I fear I’ve been caught, but her attention is not on me. It’s on Cope and Leah.
“Nice hickey,” Ivy bites out at Cope as they pass.
Cope doesn’t so much as flinch and ignores her. Leah tenses, most likely realizing she’s the subject of Ivy’s venomous stare. They pass through the doors, but before I can exit, Ivy’s black-painted claws dig into my bicep as she stops me.
I turn and lift a brow at her. “What?”
“Are they fucking now?” she demands.
Shaking her off, I snarl at her. “Last I checked, you two broke up.”
Her eyes narrow at me. “We broke up and suddenly he’s back to being best friends with you.” She points a black nail after them. “And cuddled up real close to that loser.” Leaning into me, she hisses out her words. “I get you three go way back and were friends, but shit changed. This thing with Cope is a phase. He gets bored easy. Hope you two have fun playing with him because one day you’ll blink and he’ll be gone.”
Jett Michaels saunters up to her and wraps an arm around her waist. “Problem, babe?”
She stiffens at his touch, clear disgust rippling through her. “Just warning McAlister here that Copeland Justice is not his friend. Copeland doesn’t have friends.”
Jett snorts. “Yeah, he sure dropped us like a bad habit. Right, babe?”
Every time he says babe, a vein on her reddened forehead jumps. “Right. Get me a salad and water.”
“Sure thing, babe.” Jett kisses her temple before sauntering off.
“Just warning you that Cope’s a dick who uses people. You included,” she sneers. “You should have heard all the shit he talked about you. How your mom fucked his dad. I bet you don’t want that getting out, hmmm? You don’t want the entire town knowing that your family isn’t as good as everyone thinks they are.”
Cope didn’t say anything to her. She’s bluffing and I’m not biting.
“Do what you have to do, babe,” I mock. I tip my head at the doors where Cope and Leah went through. “He sure is.”
Her cheeks blaze red with anger. It’s better for her to think Cope is with Leah and that my mom fucked his dad. Much better than the truth.
“Tell them I said hickeys are trashy,” she snips before turning on her heels and storming away.
Rolling my eyes, I push through the doors and head down the hallway. I find Cope and Leah outside. She’s pacing beside the table while Cope watches her with an amused smirk. I walk over to them and sit down next to Cope. Our knees touch, but he doesn’t move away.
“Your ex is lovely,” I deadpan.
He laughs. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Married,” Leah hisses, ignoring our banter. “They want me to get married. Ughhhh.”
Cope looks up at her, amused by her frustration. I can’t help but admire his sharp, angular jawline. Or the way the stubble has barely grown in, giving his flesh a shadowed look. My eyes skim down his throat where his Adam’s apple protrudes. Next time I get him alone, I’m going to taste him there, too.
As if in tune with my thoughts, he turns his head to look at me. The purple hickey on his neck is obnoxious and for all to see. I’d done it to mess with him, but now, I can’t help the thumping in my chest. Possessiveness glides through my veins like a drug. Foreign, but intoxicating.
I sucked his dick last night.
He let me blow him and I’m still alive to tell about it.
