AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"To get to my locker," I say, keeping my eyes onit, and not him. "Would you move over so I can open it?"
He turns back to his locker, still blocking mine. I peek around him so I can see what's in his locker. He has a couple books in there but that's it, or that's all I can see.
"I'm going to be late to class," I say.
He doesn't respond. I don't know what the hell he's doing but I don't have time to wait. There's a sliver of space between him and my locker, just big enough for me to fit. I duck under his arm, acutely aware that I'm rubbing against the front of his body as I hurry to open my locker.
"You're fucking unbelievable," he says, his hot breath feeling like fire on my neck.
I ignore him as I open my locker just enough to grab the portable charging stick. I slam the locker door shut, and just as I'm about to duck back under his arm, he moves forward, trapping me between him and the locker.
His body presses into me and I quickly turn my head before my face slams into the metal door. He leans in closer and I feel his hot breath at my ear. "You're new here so I gave you a pass this morning, but this just now? This was your last chance. Don't fucking mess with me."
My heart's thumping against my chest and I'm struggling to breathe. I try to swallow but my mouth is dry. The heat from his body is making me sweat, beads trickling down the sides of my face. Dean's hand is on the locker next to mine and I watch his massive arm straighten as he slowly pushes away from me. I feel a chill the moment his body leaves mine, making me shiver. I quickly flip around and see he's still there, his hands planted on each side of me.
"Did you hear me, New Girl? Last warning. Don't fucking mess with me."
I stare back at him, finally getting a look at his face. Holy shit, he's gorgeous. I didn't get a good look at him this morning because he had his head down and his baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. Now I'm looking right at him, and damn, that face. It's like it's been chiseled from stone. All hard edges, defining each feature from the indents of his cheekbones to his sharp, square jaw. My eyes go to his full lips, a pale pink against his tan skin. I look up at his eyes—those beautiful blue eyes—outlined with thick black lashes and dark dense brows.
"It's Brook," I say, locking my eyes on his. "And I wasn't messing with you. I was just trying to get to my locker."
I slip around him and race down the hall, my heart still pumping so hard I can't breathe. I'm not sure why I'm reacting this way. He's a bully, and I don't back down from bullies. I'm not scared of him. But maybe I should be.
