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She smiles but pulls aways from me. Her hands flying up in the air in exasperation. "He shouldn't be walking around on campus! He's a danger to society!" She storms to our island counter and begins unpacking the take-out.
Momma's.
God.
I think I’m in love with her.
I rub a hand over my chest, the ache firing up whenever she’s around.
She unwraps the stack of pancakes and the site of them makes my stomach growl. "I won't let him get away with it." I join her, adding a pancake to her plate and pushing the syrup towards her.
"I won't let him get away with what he's done to you either," she mutters. Anger showing in how much syrup she drowns her one pancake in.
“You starting to fall for me, M.I.A.?” I murmur, my hand reaching for hers.
“It’s not every day that I jump on a man’s back for someone…” she answers shly.
But it’s not the answer I want. I quirk a brow.
She smiles. “I might be…”
“Might?” I ain’t taking that shit. I want my answer.
“Fine. Yes. Against my better judgement.”
I grin, and then it quickly turns to a scowl. “You can’t put yourself in danger like that, not for me. Coach told me you jumped on him..." I grunt.
She shrugs. "I had to do something... you would have done the same thing for me."
"Yeah, but you're a wo−"
"If you don't want two broken arms, I'd hold onto that sentence if I were you."
I sigh. "I hate the idea of someone hurting you."
She swings those beautiful greens my way. "Ditto."
Well, aren’t we fucked? It’s like some Romeo and Juliet shit, except we ain’t dying.
Lifting my one good arm, I gesture. She shuffles against me as cherries instantly wash over me. “How about a little backrub in the shower?” I tease her.
“What?” she blushes. “You can’t… things are broken…”
I laugh and grab her hand, leading her to my bedroom. “It’s my ribs that are broken, M.I.A., not my dick.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE ¦ DO ME A FAVOUR
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Mia
Ipull the laces of my trainers a little too tight, making myself hiss and my foot feel like it's in a vice. The frustration I feel is showing itself in different ways, like yesterday when I'd stepped up to three girls who'd catcalled me as I'd walked out of the library. Avery had saved me. Three against one are never good odds but I’d been willing to try. Why do people feel they can just express their opinions? I mean, yes, you're allowed that opinion, but I don't give you permission to tell me. Why is being associated with Austin making me a target?
I don't recall reading about attacks on the BB crew on the podcast before I came onto the scene. Harry would have told me, being the gossip queen that he is. Maybe he’s building the hate around campus?
"You can't run on your own," Nova tells me, tutting.
I bite my tongue, but not hard enough. "I'm sick of people telling me what I can and can't do," I hiss. “It’s been a week and it’s been quiet!”
