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He leans back in his chair and watches me as though I’m the most entertaining creature he’s ever come across. “I told you I was going to sort it out.”
“Are you serious?” I screech, throwing my hands up and somehow avoiding spilling my coffee all over my brand new expensive private girl uniform. “Do you not remember the part where I specifically asked you not to do anything?”
His face scrunches as though he’s actually thinking about what we’d discussed during the extremely early hours of Saturday morning. Though to be fair, I can’t exactly be accountable for remembering shit people tell me in the middle of the night. “You see, I remember a lot of things from that conversation,” he starts. “But nothing about you being a whiny bitch. I must have forgotten that part after you showed me what you could do with your tongue.”
“Fuck you. You’re such an ass,” I tell him, wondering how he somehow pulled a smile out of me despite calling me a whiny bitch, but I have to admit, that’s not the only reaction he manages to get out of me. Need shoots through my veins and a flash of desperation comes over me as I recall the feel of his heavy cock inside my mouth. I quickly file the thought away for later. If I want to give him a verbal smackdown, then I need to keep my mind out of the gutter, no matter how badly I want it there.
Colton shrugs his shoulders as though being called an ass isn’t anything new, and honestly, it probably isn’t. “What are you going to do about it?”
I square my shoulders and step right up to the front of his desk. “You need to undo it. I’d prefer to go to the public school.”
His lips pull into a grin. “No.”
“No?” I demand. “What the hell do you mean no?”
“I mean just that. No. I’m not going to fix it. You’re going to BSP now.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I must have missed the part where it became your decision and you were handed the right to decide what’s best for my future. Just fill me in on how that happened.”
“Okay,” he says, his grin stretching wider. “Appease me. Tell me how the hell you think it’s going to work with you going to a public school? You do realize that the closest public school is a forty-five-minute drive from here?”
Shit. Forty-five minutes? I didn’t exactly know that.
“I have a driver’s license. I’m not completely useless.”
“That’s great. Do you have a car?”
My face falls. I should have thought that one through before throwing it out there like that. “You know I don’t have a car.”
“So, assuming you’re too proud to let me buy you one, what’s your next genius plan?”
“Bus.”
“Come on, now,” he laughs. “Now you’re just making a mockery. You know busses don’t come out this way, and you can bet your sweet ass that I’m not about to let you walk that far every day.”
“Let?” I demand.
“Seriously. That’s what you want to argue about right now? You know damn well I’m not going to watch you walk out the door every day knowing it’ll take you at least three hours to get to school, and I know you’re not stupid enough to assume that I’m going to drive you. You have no other options. Despite the size of the balls you think you have, you can’t go to BSA, so your only option is BSP.”
My shoulders sag in defeat. He’s right. I have no other option. If I want to finish school and graduate, then I have to go to BSP and put up with the bitchy girls. It’s only another five months. I can do it. Hell, I put up with the boys for a month, the girls should be a piece of cake.
I drop down onto the chair opposite his desk, the same one I’ve sat in time and time again when barging in on Charles, and somehow being extended the time in his day to listen to my fucked up problems. I look up at the man who is quickly becoming a massive part of my life. “I really have no other options?”
He shakes his head. “Not unless you’d prefer to drop out.”
“No,” I say, my defeat starting to get the best of me. “I want to make something of myself.”
Pride shines through Colton’s eyes and it makes everything tingle within me. He goes to say something when a moronic dipshit comes flying through the door and ruins whatever moment we were about to have.
“Yo,” Charlie says, barging through the door and making himself comfortable in the seat beside me. He looks up and down my body before his brows pinch. “What’s going on? What the fuck are you wearing?”
“Oh, you didn’t hear?” I question, laying the sarcasm on thick. “I’m going to BSP now.”
