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I narrowed my eyes.

“Anything at all?” he pressed. “Shapes, light, dark, blurs…? And is it true that when you lose one sense, the others heighten? Your sense of smell, hearing, …” he paused, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “Your sense of touch?”

The little hairs on the back of my neck rose up, and my blood heated under my skin. Everyone was watching us. I knew they were.

Just ignore him.

“And since you don’t have the use of your eyes,” he kept going, “do you have the reflex anymore to squeeze them shut? Like when you’re in pain or…when you’re excited?”

Another little laugh somewhere down the table. I turned away a little, worried they could all see how hard my heart was beating.

His words were filled with innuendo. I almost forgot he was older for a moment, our age difference at eight and eleven seeming much bigger now that we were in high school. I was too young, and he was being inappropriate. I kind of got the impression—judging from how he spoke to Rika—he was like that with everyone, though.

“Do you remember what I look like?” he asked. “I’m bigger now.”

I turned toward him, knowing my eyes wouldn’t meet his. “I remember everything. And I don’t hurt as easily anymore.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”

The edge back in his voice spread chills up my arms, and every inch of my skin felt electrified. I could feel his eyes on my face, watching me, and there was a mixture of dread and anger inside me, but also anticipation.

Excitement.

While he hurt me years ago, and there was no doubt he was now ten times the asshole I knew back then, a small part of me liked that he didn’t tread softly around me. He didn’t coddle me. He didn’t ignore me.

He didn’t act nervous, scared of me, or treat me like I was fragile. Maybe he thought I was an easier target, or maybe he didn’t scare as easily as some. Whatever it was, part of me kind of liked it.

And part of me wondered how he would respond if he found out I didn’t scare so easily, either. It was obvious from the others that no one liked to deal with him. He was used to having things his way.

“What are you doing?” someone spoke up, making me blink.

I turned my head away, coming back to the moment and registering that Ari had come up behind me. Before I could figure out who she was talking to, though, Damon slowly rose from where he straddled the bench next to me.

“Just saying hi to your little sister,” he said, and I could hear the smirk in his voice.

I felt him leave, and Rika shifted next to me, blowing out a long breath like she’d been holding it.

“He’s not supposed to come near you,” Arion said, and I guessed she was talking to me.

“Tell him that,” I muttered, feeling for my sandwich where I’d left it on the table. “I didn’t make him come over here.”

“Don’t tell the administration or Mom or Dad. The basketball team needs him, and I’m not having him g

et in trouble because you can’t deal.”

I picked up a half but didn’t take a bite.

“He was here first,” Arion pointed out. “You get him expelled, and everyone will hate us.”

Yeah, no doubt. I knew about the order Damon got to stay away from me this morning before school started, but I hadn’t entertained the possibility he’d actually disobey it. Was he stupid?

Or maybe he just thought he was that untouchable. He came right over here and sat down, knowing that at least half the eyes in the cafeteria would be on him and witnesses to what he was doing. And he did it anyway. Maybe he was overly confident, purposely reckless, or…uncontrollable.

Uncontrollable. That was the boy I remembered.

But my sister was right. He’d been here longer, and no matter what he did, they’d blame me if he got in trouble. For now, I’d handle him myself if he didn’t quit. And I’d do it quietly.

It still pissed me off that my own sister’s first instinct was to protect the basketball player, though.


Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance