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She points to her mouth, chewing and speaking. “It’s a hot dog. Hot dogs don’t require etiquette.”
“Good point.” I extend my hand to her, and she takes it.
We’re walking through the kitchen when Scar stops at the fridge. “Would the almighty Lawless leader penalize me if I were to sneak a little drinky drink into the game tonight?” She bats her lashes, trying to woo me—and it’s working.
“That depends. Do you plan to share with your almighty Lawless leader?”
“Absolutely.” She nudges me with her elbow. “We’re friends now, right?”
Friends.The word is like a knife straight to the gut.We’re just friends.
She pulls out a half-empty pint of fireball from the fridge, which is fitting for this cold night.
“Yeah,” I say, “we are.” I hook an arm around her shoulder and lead her out of the kitchen. Once we’re by the door, I drop my hold on her. She steps into her snow boots and pulls on her winter coat—stuffing the pint of booze in the inside pocket of her jacket—while I lace up my black combat boots.
We’re halfway out the door when the cold air hits me, so I reach back in and grab a jacket off the coat hanger. It’s Neo’s, and he’ll probably raise hell over it, but it beatsfreezing my ass off in just a hoodie.
It’s not snowing right now, but there’s at least an inch on the ground, and when the wind picks up, flakes fall from the trees.
I lead Scar over to my sled and hand her the helmet that’s coated in snow. She brushes it off and says, “Good thing I didn’t do anything special with my hair today.” Then she slips it on.
Once we’ve both got our helmets on, I start up the engine and take off. This is the second time in twenty-four hours Scar has ridden with me, and I’m starting to get used to the feeling of her body pressed to mine. Now, when she’s not there, I’ll miss the warmth rolling off her. For someone who’s cold all the time, she sure does exude a lot of body heat.
I pull right up to the bleachers at the football field, turning a few heads. Or all of them for that matter.
A glance around the area proves that Neo is not here, and I’m not the least bit surprised. Lately, his time is spent digging into the mystery surrounding us. It’s consumed him, much like Maddie’s case did. That is, until it was closed, but even then, he kept digging and came to the conclusion that Scar was at fault. There’s no saying where his mind will lead him this time.
Scar and I both climb off the sled and hook our helmets on the handlebars. “Not a bad turnout,” she says. “With a madman on the loose, I figured more students would stick close to their dorms.”
"Eh. I doubt most of them take this shit seriously. As far as they're concerned, this is just another game.”
Scar gives me a quizzical look, as if she's questioning it herself. She can rest assured that it isn't. "You need to know this isn't one of our games, no matter what we've done."
“I know,” she says. “Can you blame me for considering it, though?”
I shake my head. “No. Not even a little bit.” I look around at the crowd—the football players, the scenery. Everyone at this school has an agenda, even me.Especially me.
“Hey.” She smiles, the dents in her cheeks pronounced. “Meet me under the bleachers.” And with that, she takes off, walking steadfastly and leaving me in her shadow.
Biting my lip, I look around again, making sure no one’s watching—not sure why I care—and I jog after her.
When I catch up, she’s pulling the pint from her jacket. “Here,” she says, handing it to me.
I side-eye her, smirking. “You trying to get me drunk?”
“Maybe I am.” She flashes me a flirtatious grin that has me questioning that whole friends statement she made earlier.
With the bottle in hand, I unscrew the top and swallow down a shot’s worth. The powerful pinch of cinnamon rolls down my throat, igniting my esophagus. I hand it back to her and she takes a baby sip. “Oh, come on. If I’m getting drunk, so are you.”
She grimaces, pressing the bottle to her soft pink lips. What I wouldn’t give to be that bottle right now.Fuck.I want to devour her mouth. Scratch that. Ineedto devour her mouth—and her body. I want it all. Every last bit of her. Her tears after a hard day. Her smiles when she’s happy. Even her attitude when she’s in a mood. I’ll savor it all. Crew will never appreciate those small moments the way I will. He can never fully give himself to her because he’s so hung up on his place in The Society. At least, that’s what I’ve always thought. I’m starting to wonder if he realized she’s worth the loss and the backlash from Neo, too.
“Jagger,” she says, shaking the bottle in front of me. When I look down, I realize it’s only a quarter full.
“Holy shit, girl. You’re not messing around tonight.”
“We’re getting drunk, aren’t we?”
I take the bottle, tip it back for another swig, then snatch the top from her hand. “It’s best if you pace yourself. You’re not used to drinking.”
