“Don’t get too excited,” Ella lowers her eyes to the table.
She hates this conversation as much as I do. I could use an escape right about now, and judging by the uncomfortable silence that surrounds us, with all eyes trained on Ella and me, it is probably best if we get the hell out of here.
I touch Ella’s arm and her skin pricks with tiny bumps, her body so responsive to mine. “Do you need a ride home?”
She shakes her head and wipes her mouth with a napkin, still chewing her food. “No, I’m good. I can take the bus.”
“You’re not taking the bus,” I growl against the shell of her ear. “Let me take you home.”
She stills at my side, but I can feel her pulse pounding when I clutch her wrist. I make her nervous, and for some reason, she has the same effect on me. I don’t understand how I can be so at ease yet so on edge around a girl who speaks so few words. She’s the type of person who only talks when it serves a purpose and not for the sake of saying something.
Ella’s breath catches in her throat. Her chest rises and falls as she sucks in air, drawing my attention to her chest. My thoughts wander off course, and I start to imagine what she would look like without a shirt. A little bit of her cleavage shows from the top of the blue V-neck top, the material tight against her curvy body. I cannot stop staring even though I know I should stop myself.
“I can’t…” Her voice trails off.
“You can,” I tell her, “and you will. I don’t want you to travel alone when I can take you.”
The sparks between us generate enough heat that a fire ignites within just from touching her delicate skin. Every inch of my body craved the next kiss with the masked girl. I was like a ravenous beast and unable to stop myself from exploring every inch of her body. She had sunk so far beneath my skin that I could not shake her, and with Ella, the same passion, laced with a lot of sexual tension, settles deep in my bones.
She turns her head so that our eyes meet. “It was you,” I mutter the words so fast I can’t stop myself from speaking them aloud. “You are the girl from the party.”
Before Ella can answer, Tori interrupts our conversation. “You think Ella is the masked girl?”
“Oh, now this is getting interesting,” Clay adds, breaking his long silence. He must be fighting with Jessica again to be this distant.
The mention of the girl from the party has caught the attention of those around us. Everyone at the table stares at Ella as if she’s a specimen under a microscope. Throughout our tutoring session, I had analyzed every feature, the sound of her voice, even the way she moves her hands when she speaks. Of course, I memorized every curve of her beautiful face and body. I feel that connection with Ella, though I am not one hundred percent convinced that she is the one.
Plus, Ella is not the center of attention type. The girl I kissed had stolen the show. She wanted people to notice her. Otherwise, why would she have worn such an elaborate gown to a frat house, of all places?
Ella pops the last piece of the chicken sandwich into her mouth and looks at me while she chews. She makes it impossible to sit this close when all I can think about is kissing her.
“Are you ready?”
She bites down on her bottom lip as if mulling over my offer. It was more of a demand than a request. I don’t want her to ride alone on the bus at night. The city can be brutal, especially for a sweet girl like Ella.
“Yeah, my bus will be here in ten minutes.” Ella stands and slings a bag over her shoulder. “You can walk me to my stop, but I am not letting you take me home.”
We’ll see about that.
Ella
I hold my breath most of the way to the bus stop, still in shock that Shawn is walking alongside me.
We were only supposed to kiss and part ways. None of this was part of my plan. Never in a million years would I have thought Shawn would crush this hard on a nameless girl. I could tell he was different from his friends, but I had no idea it would be this easy to capture his attention.
I consider telling Shawn the truth to save him from the trouble and heartache. Every time I attempt to mutter the words, my throat closes up, and nothing comes out.
“So, where do you live?” Shawn’s fingers brush up against mine as we walk, the heat from his body magnifying the fire stirring inside me.
“Just outside the city, off the Mainline.”
“Rich girl, huh? You don’t act like one. I would never have guessed.”
I shake my head at him. “Nope, not even close. Well, my dad had money. But he died a few years ago, and every cent went to my stepmother, who doesn’t think I’m worthy of more than a bus pass.”
“I’m so sorry, Ella.” Shawn touches my shoulder, pulling me closer to his side. “What kind of mother would do something like that?”
“Clarissa is not my mother,” I spit back, not meaning my words to sound so harsh. “Sorry, that wasn’t meant for you. I have a hate-hate relationship with my stepmother. She’s awful and cruel and…” I stop myself from finishing my train of thought. Shawn does not need to know my family problems.