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“Step out of my way, or I’ll notify a staff member and your boss of your unprofessionalism.”
Her threats don’t scare me. The way she’s trembling, I know damn well she’s bluffing. “Have at it, sweetheart.” I take a step forward as she backs up. “You think it’s funny to leave guys handcuffed to beds?”
She doesn’t say a word. Her bottom lip locks between her teeth. There was a time I thought that little move was hot. Now, I want to bite that lip to teach her a lesson.
I take another step, and she backs up, hitting her desk. “Is that a thing for you? Luring guys in? Getting them to want you? Teasing them with this sinful little body of yours. . . ?” My work boots hit the tips of her heels. I lean forward, invading her personal space.
“You had me there. The way you kissed me.” I peer down to her mouth. “Melted around me. . . ” Her lips part, and she exhales, her breath skating along my chin. “The way you hiked up that pretty dress and slid against me, getting a taste of what you could have had before youhandcuffed me to the bed and left.” I have to be fucked in the head. My desire to kiss her matches my want to spank her. “So,Ms. Fischer, what’s it gonna be? You gonna call your boss and tell on me, or are you gonna admit what a lying, manipulative—”
“I did it to get back at you.” Her ridiculous statement comes out fast and panicked.
“Get back at me? I don’t even know you.”
My words wound her. Her nervous jitters quickly dissolve. Anger explodes in her eyes, and she shoves against my chest, pushing me. “But I know you. I remember you. And it’syouwho doesn’t remember me.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I’ve never met you before in my life. I would remember—”
She pushes me again, and I stumble back before righting myself. “Let me remind you. I was a flat-chested girl with bifocals. Theugly ducklingyou couldn’t stand.”
My jaw drops. “Makayla—shit.” I cuss as she slams her palms into my chest again. This time, I do lose my balance and fall backward onto a small round table.
“Wow, I’m surprised you remember my actual name. That nickname haunted me foryears!”
I look up, trying to dig through my memories. There’sno waythis deceiving bombshell is—
It clicks.
Her eyes.
That vivid green.
“Poor little ugly duckling. Wanna be pretty so bad, even your eyes are green with it.”
“That’s right. Remember how horrible you were to me. How much you picked on me. Then remember how it felt to want me. Not the ugly duckling now, am I?” Her eyes sear into me as her words spit their venom. “How does it feel now? To be humiliated? To know you were practically eating out of the palm of my hand, hard as a rock, in anticipation of what I could have done to you.Me—the ugly duckling! God, it felt so good bringing a jerk like you to your knees. And my favorite part? Hearing you had to have a cleaning lady uncuff you and how underwhelming it was when she found you. Poor woman.” She pauses to rake her eyes down my chest to my crotch. “Guess some women aren’t into average guys.”
The door to the classroom opens, and the sweetest smile wipes her snarl away. “My goodness, are you okay?” I look up at her with an honest to Godwhat the fuckexpression as Mrs. Caldwell walks in.
“Oh heavens, what happened?”
“He fell. Said he had a dizzy spell.” I swear.That little—
“Oh my, do you need an ambulance? Should I call the fire department? Well, you are the fire depart—”
“I’m fine.” I swat her hand away and get to my feet. “If you’ll excuse me, I should check on the guys.” With a final glare her way, I storm out of the classroom.
Chapter5
Makayla
"What a great startto the seventh grade, huh?” Hannah says as we walk down the sidewalk. Great isn’t the first word that comes to mind. Strange is more like it. Not sure how someone as pretty and full of life as Hannah Matthews decided to befriend someone like me.
“Yeah. And thanks for inviting me over. Your parents won’t think it’s weird having a stranger over, will they?”
She grabs my hand. “You’re not a stranger, silly. You’re my friend! Plus, you can help me pick out stuff for my birthday party. I turn twelve next week. One more year until we’re officially teenagers!”
She squeezes my hand and lets go. “When’s your birthday? If it’s close, we can plan together.”
I adjust my backpack, biting at my lower lip. “It was a while ago. I’m actually thirteen. My—I was held back a year. Out sick too much.”
