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“Preach.” Thayer adds, pointing at me with a fry covered in ketchup. Her eyes grow wide as they look over my shoulder. “Oh shit, incoming.”
“This seat’s taken.”
Déjà vu hits me, but I’ve learned my lesson since this morning. Unlike last time, I don’t give him the time of day. I remain seated with my back turned to him.
If I expected him to get violent, I’m mistaken.
His hands come down featherlight on the table, one on either side of my body.
He bends, further trapping me between his body and the table.
He’s so close, I can feel his hot breath on my neck. Against my will, goosebumps break out where his breath touches me.
The low hum of satisfaction that falls from his lips is proof that he notices.
He likes what he sees.
He’s a predator playing with its prey before he eats it.
A lion playing with a lost gazelle before it rips its throat out.
But I’m no gazelle, no matter what he thinks.
The sudden fire in my veins makes me whip around to face him, ready to meet him blow for blow.
The rush of anger makes me forget his position. He’s not standing upright, he’s crouched low above my shoulder.
When I spin in my seat, I come face to face with him.
We’re so close, our noses touch.
No, they don’t. A hair’s breadth separates them.
But the electrifying connection between us sparks to life, connecting us with an energy that feels physical.
It’s fueled by rage and anger and resentment. I don’t know what it means. I don’t know if I want to kill him or fuck him.
Definitely the first.
My breath hitches. The sound explodes like a bomb between us. His eyes snap down to look at my lips.
When they slowly come back up to mine, the look in them is unmistakable.
Lust.
“See something you like?” I ask with more confidence than I feel.
All of the emotion seeps from his eyes, replaced by the cold emptiness I’d seen in them before. It’s the mask he seems to wear at school. The mask he always has strapped on tight, that lends a distance and an untouchable nature to him.
As if nothing can really penetrate the walls he has built around him to touch the parts of him that are real.
“Yeah.” The one word is erotic. Suggestive and hot, he speaks one word but says so many more. I pause, anticipation freezing the blood in my body and the breath in my lungs. His head is slightly tilted, his mouth almost touching mine. “My seat.”
I try not to make the release of my breath too visible.
He’d notice it. He seems to notice everything about me.
“Don’t you have hobbies? Friends? Anything else you can do to entertain yourself other than harassing me?”
