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But I know why. It’s because Laz is so sexy it’s obnoxious. Or he’s so obnoxious that he’s sexy. Either way, I want to punch him, scratch him, hurt him, and then have him overpower me, pin me down, and screw me senseless. The way I’ve been acting around him, he’s heard that loud and clear, and shame burns me afresh.
“I wish he didn’t know,” I moan, falling back onto the pillows. He’s been making my life hell these past few days, smirking at me and swaggering around. Making insinuations when no one else is within earshot. I wish I were someone else, anyone else, so I could just sleep with him and get him out of my system. It wouldn’t be hard because from what I’ve heard, Laz is a total manwhore. I overheard his brother lecturing him about it at the wedding. Fabrizio Rosetti told Laz he needs to man up, be a proper husband, and get Mom pregnant.
Jealously floods me from head to toe at the thought of them having that little project together. Having loads of knock-me-up sex. Taking her temperature together and doing pregnancy tests. The hope. The anticipation. Planning it all out.
I fall into a daydream, wondering what it would be like to do all that with Laz. Especially the sex. I picture my hands pressed against Laz’s bare chest while he fucks me, every thrust punctuated with a deep groan. Filling me up with his cum and then holding me like I’m the precious, soon-to-be mother of his child. Heat floods me in a great rush.
And then turns cold as reality rushes back.
Laz and Mom.
Mom and Laz.
Frankly, they’re a terrible couple. They have nothing in common. She doesn’t make him laugh. She doesn’t call him Laz. She’s never driven his—
I pinch myself, hard. What am I thinking? I’m not jealous about Laz. I hate Laz, and that hasn’t changed because he did one nice thing for me.
I kick the blankets off my legs and stalk to the shower, a hot mess of anger, frustration, and self-disgust. I never thought I would, but I can’t wait to be at school again. Mom grounded me for getting suspended, no phone, no pool, no TV, and I’ve had nothing to do but homework and reading and bumping into Laz every time I leave my room.
Literally bumping into him. I swear he positions himself around corners so that I collide with his body. Suddenly off-balance, I automatically put up my hands and grab hold of whatever’s closest for support. Every time he smirks down at my hands on his chest, I want to slap his face and then go up on my toes to kiss him.
I bet he knows how to use that tongue for a really good, slow—
I make a strangled noise in the back of my throat, turn just the cold tap on, and step under the freezing spray.
School is a welcome distraction, and I bury myself in the work. I can feel rather than hear the other students talking about me, and they grow bolder as the day wears on.
After lunch, people start making comments directly to my face. Boys, mostly. They pretend to be afraid of me, backing away and laughing like I’m going to attack them.
“Bianchi, I thought you were suspended for fighting, not attempted murder.”
“Watch out, boys, the kitten has claws.”
“More like fists of steel.”
I don’t know what they’re talking about until I catch sight of Kaleb just before the end of the day. His face is purple and yellow with bruises. He can’t have told anyone that me and Laz showed up at his house and Laz kicked the shit out of him and his brother. I suppose that doesn’t go with the pro-wrestler image the two of them are trying to cultivate. Better that everyone thinks he let me hit him.
Whatever he needs to get through the day.
Suddenly, I’m the bad girl at school. I find myself walking with a spring in my step, my ponytail swinging, and a smile on my face. My good mood only gets better when I find my sister, Rieta, waiting for me at the school gates in her red convertible.
I get into the passenger seat and give her a kiss. “Rieta, what are you doing here?”
Rieta is beautiful, with dark, coppery hair that flashes red in the sunlight and bright, tawny eyes. She smiles, and dimples appear in her cheeks. “I thought I’d take the family black sheep out for ice cream now that she’s free.”
“Mom told you I was grounded,” I grumble.
“Oh, she told me all about it, in long and lingering detail. I hope you gave that boy a black eye.” Rieta’s still smiling as she pulls away from the curb and into traffic, and I can’t help but grin as well. We both have to deal with having a type A overbearing mother, though Rieta’s had it easier than me because she’s always been a good daughter and married a successful and well-connected man.
“You and Isabel are so lucky to have me to take the heat off you.”
Rieta peers at me over her sunglasses. “You think? How many times has Mom told you you’d be pregnant by now if only you tried harder?”
I wince. Rieta and Nero have been married for a year and a half, and no baby yet. “I’m sorry it’s so hard. How are you feeling?”
Rieta sighs gustily as she turns onto the main street where all the cafés and shops are. “Frustrated. I’m doing all the right things. Taking my temperature. Sticking my legs in the air after.”
I burst out laughing. “What?”
