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“It’s my fault. I’ll take care of it.”
She scowls. “Please don’t, Brandon. You’ll make it worse, and I don’t have time to deal with petty shit.”
“That’s why I’ll ensure it won’t happen again,” I assert. “Give me the asshole’s name.”
Hesitant, she ponders for a minute or two, then caves. “Madison Sutton and her friends.”
“Hm.” Madison has approached me a few times about going out. She’s bitter since I’ve turned her down. “I’ll see you after school.”
“Okay,” she mutters, shifting in palpable unease.
“Want me to take you home now instead?”
Kayla rolls her shoulders back and raises her chin. The fearless guise has returned. “No. I won’t let them win.”
At that moment, more than anything, I want to kiss her. The desire is so strong that I shuffle forward.
Her eyes enlarge with both nervousness and anticipation. “Brandon?”
Balling my fists, I grunt and nod to the door instead. “You’ll need a note for class. I’ll see you later.”
The unsettling sigh that follows incites a wave of guilt.
Kayla gathers her school shirt and tie in her arms and tells me, “Thanks again.” Then she leaves the tower.
I linger there for a moment, calming the rushing emotions. If only Kayla knew how badly I want her. How difficult it is to restrain myself.
Madison and company are laughing at something as they exit the building wearing their cheer uniforms.
“What’s so funny?” I call out, arms crossed and leaning against the wall.
They halt and look back.
Surprise and delight play across Madison’s face.
“Brandon,” she murmurs. “You’re talking to me…”
Pushing from the wall, I step closer and pass a glare around at them.
“I’ll only say this once. Stay away from Kayla, or I’ll ruin you and your friends.”
Her face falls. “Brandon, we were just playing with her.” My grunt sends her staggering back a few steps.
“Playing?” I repeat through clenched teeth. “Bother my girl again, and not even a withdrawal from Charleston or moving to another state will save you from my wrath.”
Madison cringes in fear.
Her friends gasp.
I angle my head and lift my brows.
She rapidly bobs, nervous. “Ye-yeah. I’m sorry. We’ll keep our distance.”
For good measure, I add in a low tone, “Hope your dad doesn’t lose his dealership. Shit happens, though.” I wink before coolly strolling off, hands in my pockets.
