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Strong arms wrap around me, hauling me backwards.
“What the— You.” I glare at Theo as he steps in between us.
“Oh, Theo; thank God. She attacked me. The crazy bitch attacked me.”
He arches a brow, sliding his gaze to me and back again. “Not how I saw it go down, Keeley.”
“W-what? She came at me. Ask anyone.” She motions to her friends who nod.
Of course they fucking do.
“She goaded Kee,” one says, and I bark out a bitter laugh.
They all glance over, Theo included.
“What?” I shrug. “She started it, and she knows it.”
Keeley tsks, and if looks could kill, I’d be six feet under.
So much for a friendly welcome.
“You should take off, Keeley. Before you make things any worse.”
“M-me?” Disbelief coats her voice. “But I told you, I didn’t—”
“Keeley,” Theo snaps, an air of authority in his voice that makes me wonder who the hell this boy is and why people call him an Heir.
“Come on, Kee.” Her friends tug her away and Theo glances around the hallway.
“Show’s over,” he practically growls the words, and the place becomes a hive of activity once more.
“I see you’re making friends.”
“She came at me.”
“Keeley is… a handful.” He runs a hand over his jaw.
“I got that memo earlier.”
“Jealous, New Girl?” Something flashes in his eyes, and I frown.
“That would be a resounding no.”
Theo takes a step closer, and another, until I have no choice but to retreat, his presence sucking the air from around us. “You sure about that?” He reaches out to snag a piece of my hair, but I immediately go on the defensive, swatting his hand away.
“Don’t. Touch. Me.” I tremble, the memories I fight to keep locked away rattling against their cage.
“You should be fucking honoured I’m even talking to you,” he spits. “Do you know how many girls would kill for me to swoop in and save them?”
“Save me? Wow.” Anger vibrates inside me. Who the hell does he think he is?
“The airheaded bimbos you’re used to might fall for your cheap attempt at chivalry, but I can look out for myself, thanks.” I barge past him, needing to get away. From him. From the strange tension crackling between us.
“Hey, New Girl,” he calls after me and stupidly, I pause, twisting back to meet his narrowed gaze. “I’m not someone you want to make an enemy out of.”
“Is that a threat?” I cock a brow, unwilling to play his games.
He slides his hands into his pockets and leans back against the row of lockers, looking every bit the roguish posh boy he is. “Call it a friendly warning.”
