“I can’t stand that bitch,” Tiffany grumbles, curling her lip up into a sneer. “She needs to go back to wherever she came from.”
“What’d she do to you?” I ask, suddenly annoyed.
“I just don’t like her. You’d think after the party last weekend, she’d be too scared to show her face. She actually had the nerve to show up at the fight on Saturday.”
“She was at the fight?” Oliver asks, his brows lifting in surprise. “I didn’t see her there.”
She lifts a hand and inspects the tips of her nails. “Probably because she had that weirdo Pierce shielding her all night.”
Oliver grunts, but doesn’t say anything else, which surprises me. Rylee is always a sore subject for him, and he never gives up an opportunity to talk shit about her. His incensed stare is pinned on her. His jaw tics, but he keeps his thoughts to himself.
I steer my eyes back to Rylee, biting the inside of my cheek to keep the growl from rumbling from my chest when I see Charles sitting too fucking close to her. I want to break each of his fingers when he sets his hand on her shoulder to whisper something in her ear. Rylee is a beautiful, if somewhat frustrating, girl, and Charles bats for both teams. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s tried hooking up with her.
I may enjoy the look of jealousy on Rylee’s face, but I sure as fuck don’t want to feel it myself.
She lifts her head, and her eyes slide from me to Tiffany, then back to me. I hold her stare and lick my bottom lip, satisfied when her eyes flare with heat.
A vision of the night on her porch comes to mind. The remembered taste of her on my tongue and the way her body felt against me. It took iron will to walk away from her that night. Then yesterday in the hallway wasn’t any easier. I wanted to yank her into the nearest room and devour her whole. When I saw her talking to Charles at her locker, I nearly lost my shit. My mind screamed at me to claim her, to make her see that she was mine. When she sprouted that shit about Oliver, it pissed me off. How the fuck could she think I would let Oliver dictate who I saw or touched?
The kiss I gave her against the lockers was not only to satisfy my need to see if she tasted as good as I remembered—she tasted better, but to also show her I make my own decisions, and I fucking chose to kiss her.
My dick hardens in my jeans at the thought of tasting her again. I’m just about to push Tiffany from my lap
when she starts wiggling around.
“Oh, baby. Is that a cucumber in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?” She flashes me a wicked grin and presses herself harder against me.
“It’s definitely not you,” I bite out. “Now get off.”
Grabbing her waist, I hoist her none to gently from my lap. She stumbles back a step and has to catch herself on the table so she doesn’t fall.
“What the hell, Zayden?” she complains, smoothing down her skirt. “You don’t have to be an asshole. What did you do that for?”
“You know my lap isn’t a place for you to park your ass, Tiffany. How many times have I told you before?”
“You seemed fine with it a minute ago.”
“Well, I’m not fine with it now. Be lucky I didn’t dump you on the floor.”
She rolls her eyes, flips her hair, and stomps off.
Good riddance.
Oliver chuckles beside me. “I don’t know why you just don’t tap her and get it over with. Maybe she’ll leave you alone afterward.”
“Doubt it. Girls think they have some misguided claim after you put your dick in them, no matter how much you tell them otherwise. Speaking of… bet you fifty bucks by the end of the day, Karla tells everyone you’re dating.”
“If the bitch knows what’s good for her, she won’t.”
“Apparently, she doesn’t.” I tip my chin in the direction of Karla, who’s snickering with a couple of other girls. All three are looking at Oliver. Karla waves her fingertips at him.
I laugh. “Good luck with that.”
His jaw clenches as he gets up and stalks over to Karla’s table. Uninterested in his shit, I turn my eyes back to Rylee. She has her head turned away from me, but as if sensing my stare, she looks over and our eyes clash. My body instantly heats and blood rushes south. I want nothing more than to go to her and do what I just told Oliver girls are known for. Claim the fuck out of her in front of the entire school. The girl drives my libido and mind crazy, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Tiffany approach Oliver and pull him away from Karla’s table. They huddle together, talking quietly. Anger spikes when Tiffany snickers and slides her eyes to Rylee.
What the hell are they planning?