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Wait. Did I miss something?

“Did you say something?” I asked, quickly darting my attention away.

He hummed out a laugh and stood up from the desk. His strides were slow and easy as he walked toward me, causing my heart to jump up to my throat. What was he doing? Just as the panicked thoughts began to consume me, his finger graced the bottom of my chin, and he tipped my head backward. My braid swung behind my shoulder, and I watched in awe as he brought his other hand to his mouth. A flush started to creep up my neck as his tongue darted out from behind his soft lips to lick his thumb. I felt the slick pad of his finger swipe over my cheekbone, just below my left eye, and I almost fainted.

I was hot. Burning up. I was completely captivated by whatever was forcing me to stay in his tight grasp. Something throbbed within, and desire annihilated any reminder of the inexperience I had. The entire room was festering with flames. I wanted to kiss him. Did I really want that? I did. I knew I did. I wanted to know what it felt like to be kissed by him.

“You had something black on your face,” he said, still keeping his hand on my chin.

“Charcoal.” The single word had cracked around the edges like a firework.

He nodded once, our breath mingling together as we stared at one another. His eyes held something wild and tempting, and I really, really wanted to chase after it.

“What are you doing to me?” His question was nothing more than a raspy whisper as his hand left my chin, and he finally stepped away, allowing me to breathe again. His fingers ran through his dark hair, ruffling it a bit, and I just stood there, completely and utterly dumbfounded. Did he mean to say that out loud?

My lips were still parted as Isaiah crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his gaze. “I thought I told you to stay in your room.”

Blinking myself back to reality, I pulled down my blazer sleeves and leveled my chin, forcing out a lie. “I waited until curfew was over.”

His angry slash of an eyebrow hitched. “You’ve been in here for hours, which means you left your room before the sun even came up.”

I pulled back. “How—"

Isaiah shot up from the desk he was leaning against and crept toward me. “Your hair is messy,” he said, reaching out and pushing a piece of brown hair away from my face. “You had charcoal on your cheek.” His lip twitched, and I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away as he crowded me again. “And I went to your room to grab you this morning, and Sloane couldn’t seem to find you.” He sighed before flinging his blue eyes to mine. “Leave a note next time.”

My heart hiccupped at what sounded like panic in his voice. “Why did you come to my room?”

There was a beat of silence that lasted a second longer than I wanted. Isaiah’s thick lashes lowered as he glanced away. “You shouldn’t be in the halls before curfew is up, Gemma. Not alone, anyway.”

“But why?” Isaiah’s jaw was bracketed with tension. “Does it have something to do with whatever you had to do last night? Does it have something to do with me covering for you?” I couldn’t seem to stop the questions from spilling out.

His growl was low, but I heard it. “How long have you been in here? Please tell me it hasn’t been all night.”

A sarcastic noise left my mouth as I threw his words back at him from the night before. “I’ll answer yours, if you answer mine.”

My lips curved at the sight of his narrowed eyes and dimpled cheek. “My uncle does not give you enough credit.” Then, my slight smile fell. I swore he was talking in riddles. What did that even mean? “Tell me, Good Girl. Are you this snarky with everyone? Or just me?”

The tiniest laugh left my lips. “Just you.”

He grunted with a half-smile before grabbing onto my hand and pulling me toward the classroom door. Butterflies coated my belly that I hastily pushed aside, pretending they weren’t there. The second we were in the hallway, he pulled his hand away but glanced down at me. “For some reason, I feel privileged.”

“Privileged?” I asked, glancing back up at him.

He nodded, looking straight ahead as we walked side by side. “I kind of love that you dish it back out to me and no one else.”

I fought a laugh. “Why would you love that?”

His dimple reappeared just before I saw Cade, Brantley, and Shiner walking toward us from the dining hall. The bell rang over our heads, and I cursed myself for getting so caught up in my sketch—and let's be honest here, I was caught up in Isaiah licking that freaking charcoal off my face too—that I had missed breakfast altogether. Sloane was probably busting at the seams to ask me where I had gone so early this morning.

Just before the rest of the Rebels appeared in front of us, Isaiah bent down and whispered into my ear. “I love it because it means you trust me enough to be yourself, and even though I’m probably unworthy of a girl like you trusting someone like me, I’ll take it anyway.”

He winked as he pulled back and then began walking in stride with the Rebels, who’d all dipped their chin at me like they were approving something, and I felt the pride swell. I liked the fact that Isaiah said he felt unworthy of me, and I liked that his friends seemed to approve of me, too. I was beginning to like a lot of things that I shouldn’t, and as the hallway began flooding with students from breakfast, all trying to get to their first class, I was left standing there, feeling my inability to trust someone disappear right into thin air.

Deep down, I knew I needed to control the butterflies that had been dormant in my belly for so long. I knew that Isaiah’s intentions were good, and he probably didn’t even realize that the simplest of touches made me burn on the inside. He wasn’t really flirting with me or insinuating that he wanted anything from me other than what I was already giving him. He said it yesterday: he had kissed my cheek in front of everyone to prove a point. But still. My thoughts were muddled when we were brought together. I wasn’t living in fear, or hiding from the past, or even contemplating my next move. Instead, I was secretly watching out for his dimple to reappear or waiting for that scorching heat to wash over me when he’d glance down to my mouth, even as fleeting as the look was.

Somehow, the bad boy of St. Mary’s, who I’d found to be egotistical right off the bat, put a pause on my dark and troubled thoughts, and I didn't realize it until now, but that was exactly what I was starved for. I was ravenous for Isaiah Underwood and for the way he silenced all the shit in my head, and I found myself looking forward to seeing him again later, even if I knew there would eventually come a time where I wouldn’t see him ever again.

Chapter Thirty-One


Tags: S.J. Sylvis Romance