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Bexley’s brow lifts, suspicion glittering in his blue gaze. But he doesn’t say whatever is on his mind. Instead, he sneers, “Class is about to start. You should pay attention.”
Class drags. Professor Lincoln spends fifty minutes talking about our first assignment, and Bexley spends fifty minutes ignoring me. A couple of times, he shifts in his seat, his jean-clad knee brushing mine, sending a thousand volts through me. I don’t know why he has such an effect on me. It’s like something shifted in me that night at the lake. I wanted Bexley. I wanted him to be the one to take my precious virginity. But it was more than that.
For those few minutes or hours, I wanted to belong to someone—anyone—other than Cade Kingsley.
Whether Bexley realizes it or not, that night entangled our lives in ways I’m not sure even I understand yet. All I know is, watching Cade and his friends beat the crap out of him hurt.
It hurt me, made my heart ache in a way I didn’t expect.
Professor Lincoln dismisses us, and Bexley shoves his notebook and pen into his backpack. His face is a patchwork of cuts and bruises, and before I know what I’m doing, I reach out to touch him.
“Don’t.”
The severity in his voice startles me, and I snatch my hand away, feeling the icy lick of rejection trickle down my spine.
“You should go, little mouse,” he says so darkly, a shiver rolls through me. “You might not like what happens if you stick around.”
“You don’t scare me, Bexley.” I tip my chin in defiance. “I know you think I screwed you over, but it isn’t like that. Surely, you know that now.”
The room is emptying around us, but we stand there, locked in a silent war. Eventually, he breaks the tense silence, pushing his face into mine. “What I know is that you’re Kingsley’s… and I don’t want his sloppy seconds.”
My breath hitches. I’m so stunned I do nothing as Bexley hops over the back of his chair and takes off toward the door.
I file out of the classroom with the other stragglers, surprised to find Annabel waiting for me.
“Hey, is everything okay? You didn’t tell me you’re in a class with Bexley Easton.”
Just the very mention of his real name makes me wince.
“I didn’t think it was important.” We lace our arms and head out of the building.
“It wasn’t, until the party Friday. Can you believe it, an Easton heir? That’s some crazy shit.”
“Mm-hmm,” I murmur, hoping she’ll drop it.
“Shame about Alex, too.”
“Is it?” My head whips around to her, and I notice the slight flush to her cheeks.
“Bel?”
“Yeah, he’s cute. We were talking at the party.”
“And you never told me?”
“Well, I was p
retty out of it.” She laughs, but it’s strangled.
“You need to quit taking that stuff.”
“What?” Her shoulders lift in a shrug. “It makes me feel good.”
“Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
I have never really understood the fascination with drugs. Enough people seemed to be high on Friday night, Annabel and Sasha included. But I have no desire to be that out of control and unaware of my actions. Even watching Bexley getting beaten to a pulp. I’d felt every crack of Cade and Ashton’s knuckles… every crunch of bone… every grunt of pain. It was real, though. Real and raw and messy.
And one day, it will be the ammunition I need to escape from Cade. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or even the next day. But if he thinks for one second that I am just going to be some meek, docile prosapia willing to do his bidding, he is sorely mistaken.
