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Anger boils beneath my skin. “I’m not a prize to be won, Cade.”
“No, you’re not. Because I don’t need to win anything. You’re mine, Mia. Mine.” He leans back in, rubbing his nose along my jaw and letting his mouth linger over mine. “I know we have to take it slow. I know we have to wait until the Coligo before I can make you mine in all the ways that count. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun in the meantime.” He toys with the neckline of my tank top. “We can keep it between the two of us.”
I swat his hand away and slip out from between him and the wall. “We should get going,” I say, swallowing the tears rushing up my throat. “We wouldn’t want to be late.” Grabbing my bag, I sling it over my shoulder and take off toward the door, not bothering to wait for Cade.
7
Bexley
I stare at Mia across the auditorium as she fiddles nervously with her pen. This is only my third psychology class, but I haven’t heard a word the professor has said. My focus is entirely on her.
My fingers clench as I recall how she felt, trembling in my hold yesterday. My teeth grind as I remember feeling that pull to her again like I did on Friday night by the lake.
She's Kingsley's. Any sane guy would have walked away the second he pulled her into his body and staked his claim. Sadly, I'm not any normal guy, and that connection I feel with her… I crave it like a fucking junkie searching for his next hit.
I haven’t felt that in… a really long time, and I fucking need it.
I want it.
I want her.
Mia is aware of my attention. She might not have looked at me since the moment she was delivered to class by him and glanced around to find a seat, but she knows. I feel it. It's why she can't stop moving. Why she keeps tapping her pen and shifting in her seat as if she's uncomfortable.
Is she wet for me again? Is she trying to push thoughts of me having my hands on her, inside her, out of her head?
I stretch my legs out before me and slump down in the seat a little more. The professor continues, but his words flow over me as a blur of incessant noise. My heart pounds steadily in my chest as I continue watching, my mind working on overdrive to try to figure this shit out.
Mia is beautiful, sexy, breathtaking, but something tells me that she's not Cade Kingsley's type. I've seen him in the past, parading girls around like they’re fucking possessions, and they haven’t exactly looked like Mia, always plastered in more makeup than I'm sure she owns. With their perfect smiles and flawless hair, they flaunt the assets they have. Mia… well, she’s just Mia.
Classically beautiful, she doesn't need any kind of enhancement. It's the kind of beauty that Cade, the old me, never would have seen, because everything is only skin deep when you're trying to gain—or retain—that much power.
Disgust rolls through me as I cast my mind back to my past and what a douchebag I was in Sterling Bay. It's really no wonder my parents banished me here and practically forgot all about me. If I ever have a kid and he acts anything like I did, I'd want to
disown them too.
A burning slap to my shoulder drags me from my thoughts, and I look to my left. "Bro, are you going to fucking listen anytime soon, or are you just going to drool over your lost love?"
"Fuck off."
Alex raises a brow at me and then shrugs. "Fine, but you’re not having my notes."
"Did I fucking ask for them?"
"No, but you will. She's Kingsley's, man. You need to let it go. Let it—"
"Don't," I cut him off before he breaks into fucking song. "Something's not right there. Does she look like Kingsley's type?" I say, voicing the question I was asking myself only minutes ago.
"I guess not, but Cade isn't all that picky. He's probably running out of new girls to stick it in, to be honest."
"So the opposite issue to you then," I deadpan.
"Did I ask for your opinion?” He glowers. “No, no I fucking didn't. So pay attention and take some fucking notes, Casanova."
"Are you actually going to tell me what happened Friday night, or am I going to have to continue making up scenarios in my head?" Alex asks me as we make our way toward our dorm building at the end of the day.
I had economics with Mia straight after our psychology class this morning, but she ensured she was late, sitting as far away from me as possible. There went another class of my college career in which I had no fucking clue what happened. I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only one, either, because much like our first class together she spent the time doodling or fiddling with her pen or necklace. At no point did she look like she was paying any attention at all.
I tried to talk to her after class, but there was a commotion at the entrance, and she managed to slip away from me before I even got a word out.
