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He shakes his head. “You can get yourself out.”
That’s true, if she knows what to do. But Quinn simply stands frozen in his arms, chest heaving and face flushing as the three of us wait for her to get out. A soft whimper slips out of her. My chest constricts. Dylan’s features darken, and I know he’s about to say something stupid.
“Let her go,” Austin snaps. “You’re freaking her out.”
Dylan releases her, and Quinn takes four quick steps away from him, her trembling hand going to where his arm had pressed against her neck. Her pupils are blown wide, and her gaze skips around the room before settling on me. Those eyes always stray to me for some reason, a moth drawn to a flame, and normally, I ignore it but today, it’s different. I stiffen, not because of the unsettling way her attention brushes down my spine, but because of the way her eyes hood and her tongue dashes across her bottom lip.
“What’s wrong with you?” Austin asks Dylan, not noticing Quinn’s reaction.
I press my lips together and glare at her.
“You need to learn to defend yourself,” Dylan says to her instead of answering Austin.
Quinn rips her gaze from mine and scrunches her face. “Why do I need to do that?”
He steps toward her, and she takes a step away, pressing her back against the wall, practically offering to be at his mercy. “I saw Richard cornering you in the hallway.”
Who thefuckis Richard?
No. I’m twenty-fucking-one. This high school bullshit is none of my business.
“It was nothing,” she says too quickly, glancing over his shoulder. “He was just saying hi.”
“Bullshit.” Dylan is in front of her in the next instant, and she tips her head back, gazing up at him with anything but fear.
Austin can’t see her face from where he’s sitting, and Dylan is too pissed to realize what should be obvious to him. I clench my fists but stay quiet. I’m not so much of an asshole that I’d call her out in front of them, but whatever she’s thinking, she needs to stop. It’s natural for an omega to be attracted to alphas. It’s part of our nature. Being attracted to Dylan, though?
That’s not happening.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” she says.
Dylan barks out a laugh. “You think I’m going to let a fuckhead like Richard tell everyone he fucked my stepsister?”
Her face crumples. “I didn’t even do anything! He was only talking to me?—”
“And you were cornered, and he could’ve done whatever he wanted to you.”
“He wouldn’t.” She shakes her head. “It’s not as bad as it seems.”
Dylan releases a frustrated growl. “Like fuck it isn’t, Quinn. He already told people he’d be in your pants by the end of the week.”
She sucks in a sharp breath but doesn’t try to argue. “I was being nice,” she says with a wobbly lip.
“Which is why he cornered you, Quinn.” Dylan’s voice is a little softer. “Everyone knows that you—” He cuts off and glances away.
“That I what?” she asks, brow furrowing.
She’s a pushover, that’s what. She’ll people please herself to death and do it with that pretty smile on her face the entire time. This Richard,Dick, needs to be introduced to someone’s fist.
“Nothing.” He moves away from her, catching my eye and mouthing,He’s fucking dead.
I don’t disagree, but if Dylan starts running to her rescue every time she has a problem, whatever fantasy she has inside that head of hers will only get stronger. She has to learn to defend herself.
Grabbing her bag, Quinn races from the room. The clock on the wall ticks, and we wait for a few minutes, making sure she’s far enough away that she can’t eavesdrop. Dylan is seething, his murderous glare set on the bookshelf. If he had a match, he might set the room on fire just to release some of the tension simmering beneath the surface.
“Dylan,” I begin, but Austin cuts me off, scowling at our younger brother.
“You were being a dick.”
