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I bite my lip shyly, thinking about those sexy moments with Brandon. “Um, we’re all right. He’s still a bit cagey, though.” It sucks that he’s remaining so mysterious. But I feel he’ll open up in time.
Rajid saunters past as we approach the classroom. He flashes a fleeting glance and waves before entering.
Sam stares all over the place.
I feel bad they’re still in an awkward spot. “You guys haven’t spoken?”
She frowns. “I want to push my feelings aside and remain as friends. But it’s hard. I made it uncomfortable for us to hang out.”
“I’m sorry, Sam.”
She shrugs and motions for us to continue into the room.
Brandon strolls in shortly. I left him in the parking area, talking to Eric and Steve after we arrived at school.
When he settles in the seat next to me, I tell him, “I’m chilling with Sam later.”
I wince as his gaze darkens with displeasure.
He glares at Rajid, sitting before him, and flicks back to me. “He better not be included.”
Rajid slants with his brows pinched as he passes a look from Brandon to me.
Sam faces the window, acting aloof.
“No,” I mutter to Brandon.
He relaxes his body. “Fine. Don’t stay too long.”
I dip my head at his audacity. “Excuse you? I don’t put time limits on how long I hang out with friends.”
Brandon clenches his jaw. “Five o’clock. No later.”
My brows shoot up. Sam twists in her chair, eyes wide with curiosity as she observes us.
“That’s a typical controlling move.” I suck my teeth and argue, “I’ll hang out with my friend as long as I want.”
He growls under his breath, blue hues dark with frustration as he narrows on me.
I remain firm, chin high.
Brandon smirks in that familiar pissed way, letting me know I’m in trouble.
The naughty side of me is anticipating his wrath.
As the teacher enters the room, Brandon faces forward and doesn’t glance my way again throughout the period.
I grow more anxious when he ignores me in social studies, too.
Then at the end of class, he grunts out of the earshot of everyone, “To the tower.”
My blood pumps faster with every step as I trail Brandon outside and through the trees until we reach the old tower.
The instant I enter, he shuts the door and clutches my throat, backing me up against the stone wall.
“You know, I wanted to be gentle for a change,” he grates out. “But you just love to piss me off. Thanks for reminding me you don’t like it calm. You want me when I’m bad. It turns you on. Right, little artist?”
I moan in twisted excitement.
