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“I thought you wanted me to catch up on what I missed out on today. If that’s not the case, then I have better things to do.”
“That was the original plan, but given you’re refusing to take me or my classes seriously, I’ve decided to switch shit up.Sitdown, Pen.”
“Why?” I ask, suddenly feeling nervous. There’s a knot of anxiety in my chest that has gotten more twisted every second that I’ve been in the room with him. He’s always made me feel on edge. Even as kids, I was always that bit more nervous around him than the others, and I hate that after all this time it still feels the same way. Back when I was a kid it was because he never quite opened up to me in the same way as Dax, York and Zayn did. He always held back that little bit of himself, and I never quite felt good enough, like he didn’t trust me enough, or even like me enough to fully open himself up to me. Now, he’s even more closed off. He’s a stranger, and that hurts. He’s also an arsehole, and that makes me feel a tiny bit better. It’s easier to dislike an arsehole.
“Just sit.” He turns his back on me and picks up his mobile phone flicking through it, completely oblivious to my current indecision.
I should walk away. I should tell him to go fuck himself right now. I don’t because when it comes to Xeno, I’ve never been able to say no. It’s that little girl in me who still craves his approval, his acceptance. He was the last piece to our puzzle that never allowed himself to fit, and when he did, it was too fucking late. It pisses me off that he seems to know that and is using my weakness against me. Then again, walking out of here wouldn’t be any better either. So, I remove my phone from the back pocket of my very tight jeans, and sit, resting it on my lap.
Xeno strides over to the door, locking it, then reaches for the hem of his t-shirt and pulls it off, chucking it on the floor. He flexes his neck, rocking his head from side-to-side like he’s about to step into the ring and fight. I swallow hard, hiding my surprise and prickling of fear behind bravado. It worked for me as a kid, it’ll work for me now.
“What’s this? Some kind of pissing contest, Xeno. Are you jealous and needing to make a point? I thought you had no interest in me, but here you are getting naked?” I reel off. What the fuck is he doing? More to the point, why is he so damn hot? I will my cheeks not to flush. I donotwant him to know how much he turns me on despite his cuntish attitude.
We are not friends, and we sure as fuck aren’t lovers.
He smirks. “I find I can dance better unencumbered,” he says, sounding ridiculous.
Unencumbered? Did he swallow a damn dictionary tonight? “It means not having anyburden.”
“I know what it means, Xeno. Out of the five of us, it was me who actually bothered going to school the most. What’re you gonna do next, grab a dictionary and startlambastingme with words? I’m a street kid, and whilst sticks and stones may break my bones, names sure as fuck won’t hurt me.”
“No, that’s not what’s gonna happen tonight.” He smiles evilly, like the hottest fucking devil who knows he’s as beautiful as much as he’s dangerous. I grit my jaw, my gaze roving over his body as he circles me, all predatory.
“You know if you wanted to fuck me, perhaps you should’ve taken your chance at Grim’s club. Oh, wait, Jeb didn’t give you permission torapeme like he did Zayn…” I snarl.
“And yet two days later, you let Zayn fuck you with his fingers because of a few sweet words and smooth moves in the studio,” he bites back, sneering.
“Number one,fuck you, and number two, how the fuck do you know what happened?” I move to stand, but he rushes forward, and places his hands on the backrest, lowering his gaze to meet mine, his lips pulling up over his teeth.
“Number one,” he retorts, mimicking me, “I’m the one who holds the Breakers together so I make it my business to know what’s going on and number two, you should lock the fucking door to the studio if you want some privacy!”
“You piece of shit,” I snap, my cheeks roaring with heat at the thought he had watched Zayn and me, just like he did when we were kids. What is he, some kind of voyeur?
“I gotta give him credit. He’s smooth, real fucking smooth.”
“Fuck you!” I flinch looking away, not able to hold his stare. My eyes catch on something glinting at his neck. It’s the same necklace Zayn gave me that night at Rocks. It was their birthday gift to me.
“That’s my necklace,” I say, reaching for it, but Xeno captures my wrist, preventing me from touching it.
“No, it’s not. This ismine. The Breakers are my brothers, Pen, and I will doanythingto protect them.”
“I’m not a threat,” I lie, because the truth is, I am and Xeno knows it.
“That’s where you’re wrong. You threateneverythingand I’ll be damned if I watch them fall for you again only for you to break their fucking hearts. You need to stay the fuck away from them.” With that Xeno steps back, lifts his head and says, “Play track twenty-two.”
I recognise the track immediately. It’sYou Broke Me Firstby Tate McRae. The singer is a few years younger than me and is a dancer as well. I remember watching her on some American dance show. Girl’s got talent.
She’s edgy. Current. Cool.
The song begins to play, and for the whole first verse Xeno just fucking stares at me like some goddamn creeper. As she sings, the words feel too raw, too specific to our situation. I grab my phone and stand but Xeno steps forward once again and I drop to my seat.
“You will sit there, and you will watchmedance this time, Pen.” There’s a steeliness to his gaze, a coldness that makes me swallow hard. When did he get so fucking cruel? I must’ve asked that question out loud because he laughs bitterly, stepping away from me. “I told you before. I’m no longer that boy you knew.” Then he flips backwards, lifting so high in the air that I forget for a moment to hate him and only watch in astonishment as he performs a series of tumbles that are damn near perfect.
Xeno’s head snaps up, and he pins me with his glittering green eyes. His chest heaves, and if the words to the song weren’t a big enough clue to how he’s feeling, the expression on his face doesn’t leave any room for misunderstandings.
Then he dances.
Not bachata.
