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Nine Months Earlier…
* * *
A rustling sound to her right drew Lori’s attention. She peeked out of the corner of her eye, her gaze falling on a square piece of paper clutched between Zane’s long, tanned fingers. He thrust it at her, waving it in a silent message for her to take it while shooting furtive glances at the front of the class. Their teacher, Mr. Snake—real name Stape, but Snake suited him far better given his uncanny ability to slither up behind you when you weren’t looking—sat behind his desk scribbling in a thick leather-bound book.
“Hurry up,” Zane whispered, thrusting the paper at her for a second time.
Lori took it, taking care to unfold it as quietly as possible. She lifted her eyes on the regular, keeping an eye out for Snake. Coast clear, she scanned it, her lips tilting in a secretive smile, butterflies causing havoc inside her stomach as she read Zane’s message.
Tonight. After prom. You and me. I’m gonna get you so wet.
Smiling to herself, she scrawled a reply of her own beneath Zane’s neat handwriting. She passed it back to him, eyes flitting to Snake. All good. He still had his head buried.
Didn’t know it was going to rain.
She sensed rather than witnessed Zane’s grin as he read her reply. Seconds later, he returned the note.
Oh, it’s gonna rain, baby. Rain fucking orgasms.
A giggle erupted in her throat, and she slammed her hand over her mouth to stifle it. Snake’s head popped up, his beady eyes scanning the class full of students for the culprit. His gaze landed on her, and she ducked her head, shoved the paper into the back of her copy of A Merchant of Venice, and pretended to read.
“Miss James.”
Lori’s head snapped up to find the teacher standing beside her, his palm outstretched.
“Sir?”
“If you please.”
Her stomach flipped over. Oh god. Not the note. Her mind raced with ideas. Maybe she could whip it out of her book, stuff it in her mouth, and swallow it before Snake even blinked. Perhaps she should toss it Zane’s way and let him deal with it. But let Snake read a private, and humiliating, note? No. Nope. Not a chance.
Feigning innocence, she angled her head and blinked. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Mr. Stape.” At least she got his name right. A slip of the tongue and she’d have even more explaining to do.
He emitted an irritated sigh, one hand fisting his hip, the other he shoved closer to her. “Give it to me this instant, Miss James.”
She tried to make eye contact with Zane, but Snake stood in the way. His belly bulged a few inches over the top of his belted suit trousers, and his groin was right at eye level. She averted her gaze and could have sworn Zane sniggered.
Bastard was enjoying her discomfort.
“I can’t, Mr. Stape.”
Soraya Jenkins, the girl who sat right in front of her, gasped. Soraya’s reaction didn’t surprise Lori. No one refused a direct order from Snake. Not without suffering cruel and unusual punishments.
“There is no ‘can’t’, Miss James. Either give me the note, or you can accompany me to the principal’s office and give it to her instead.”
Hmm, maybe a trip to Mrs. Lennie’s office was the better option. An image of the austere, stern principal of St. Austell High School flashed before her. Ah, hell. Talk about getting caught between a rock and an even harder place.
Another muffled snigger reached her, and she scowled, her ire wasted on Zane considering Snake’s bulk blocked her view. How could he think this was funny? It was mortifying. With a tremble in her fingers, she retrieved the folded up piece of paper and passed the note to her teacher, her face burning. He unfolded it, and his eyes bulged as he read what she and Zane had written.
“Miss James, Mr. Quinlan, see me after class.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sure thing, sir.” Zane grinned, unperturbed by Snake’s wrath.
The second Snake moved out of her way, Zane got her best stink-eye. In return, he flashed a set of perfect pearly whites and knitted his hands behind his head, rocking his chair back on two legs. She glanced down, measuring whether she was fast enough to knock the chair from underneath him. Zane read her intention and righted his chair, but the broad grin remained fixed in place.
“You’re an ass,” she hissed.
