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His glare on me relaxes before his mouth tugs up in a smile. “I wanna take you out.”
“You…wanna take me out?” I can’t help the laugh that follows, but it quickly disintegrates, washing away any humor from my face. “Fuck off, Cade.”
“Ouch.” His hand slaps over his heart. “Way to kill a guy’s ego.”
“Oh, I’m not worried,” I tell him, “I’m sure it's inflating again as we speak. In fact,” my eyes wander to the left, where Melody and Hannah are watching us intently, “I see some girls checking you out right now. Better luck with them.” I pull Scar along, leaving Cade behind us.
We’re at least six feet away from him when I hear him holler, “I don’t do well with rejection, babe. But you’ll come around. I can guarantee it.”
“What. The. Actual. Fuck?” I mumble as we round the hall corner toward the first-floor classrooms.
“Yeah. That was downright weird.” Scar drops her arm from mine and reaches into her buzzing pocket. “It’s Jagger. I’ll see you in class.”
I nod in response and continue on my way to creative writing—my favorite class of the day. Not only because it’s my only class with Scar, but also because I love being creative, and I love writing.
Ridge is also in this class, which is odd to me, since he’s a junior. I can only conclude he either needed the extra elective, or he signed up because of me.
Ugh. Don’t be that person, Riley. Don’t let your head get as big as Cade’s.
Chances are, there is no coincidence at all.
I step into the classroom, then step back when I see that Ridge is the only one sitting there, in the same seat he’s always in, directly behind me.
Well, this is awkward.
Probably should have dragged out the conversation with Cade a little longer to avoid being so early. Now Ridge probably thinks I’m some sort of book nerd, or teacher’s pet. Which I am, but that’s beside the point. Then again, he's here early, too. I wonder if he’s always this early. I guess I’ve never really paid much attention.
Biting my bottom lip, I take in a deep breath and fully enter the classroom. Flashing Ridge a half-smile, I slide between the tables then pull out my chair. With my bag resting at my feet, I sit down and pull out my MacBook.
It’s so quiet.
Am I sweating?
I wipe my forearm across my forehead.
Yep.
At least I’m in front of him, so he can’t see. Not that I care. Ridge is nobody to me. Just a guy who stalks me…while I let him.
My body jolts when a hand smacks the table beside my laptop. My spine stiffens, shoulders raised. The eyeball of his tattoo peers up at me and it’s the first time I’ve noticed the single tear beneath it. But what’s more concerning is the fresh cuts on his hand.
Could it have been him that broke Cade’s nose? But why?
Turning my head slowly, I raise my chin. “Can I help you?”
Cold eyes look down on me, as if I’ve offended him in some way. His mouth opens and my heart jumps into my throat. At least, that’s how it feels with how fast it’s beating. So many unspoken words, and finally, he’s going to say something.
But when his shoulders drop and his mouth closes, there’s a pang of disappointment in my chest.
Turning back around to face the front of the room, I give up. There is no point in trying with this guy. It’s obvious he has nothing to say to me. I know he talks. I’ve seen his mouth move many times while he’s conversing with his friends and doesn’t know I’m watching. Ironic, isn’t it? Sometimes I watch him, too.
Ridge slowly lifts his hand, exposing the pen beneath his palm—my pen. I must’ve dropped it when I came in.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Before I even realize time has passed, the class fills with students, including Scar, who brings nothing but a pencil.
“Where’s all your stuff?” I ask her as she taps said pencil repeatedly against the table.
