CHAPTER32
Islowly turn around. Brett marches up to me and shoves the paper into my hand.
“What was that name you said?” I ask sweetly.
“Brandon Slade. You’re his daughter, aren’t you?”
No fucking way am I about to admit that, but he’s not going to be put off if I feign complete ignorance.
"Brandon Slade? Yeah, I know him. I know him well enough that if I ever feel threatened, I can call him up, and he'll step up for me." I stab his chest. "I need you and your goons to back the hell off now before I call in my favor."
“Yeah, sure.” Brett gives me a crooked smile that is far too devilishly handsome. He’s too hot for his own good. ‘Texas is a long way from California.”
I gulp. I don’t have to look around to know that the hallway is empty. We’re late for homeroom, but no teacher knows we’re here. We’re all alone.
Actually, that suits me just fine.
Batting my eyes, I smile up at Brett. I toss the flier to the side and place my backpack on top. I’m not sure where his is. No matter.
“Texas is a long way away,” I murmur as I come in close and hug him, but it’s not really a hug. I grab his left arm, twirl around so my back is to him, step to the outside, and throw him. He lands hard. Unlike my first day, I actually threw him!
But he grabs my ankle and yanks it out from under me. I manage to hop and keep my balance until he grabs the other ankle despite my trying to keep it out of his reach. He yanks me down right on top of him.
Before I can react, he rolls us over so he’s on top. He pins me down, staring hard at me. He shouldn’t be winded, shouldn’t be panting, but he is breathing heavy, and so am I. This whole thing is so very awkward but also sexy.
If I want to, I can lean forward with my lips and kiss him. I can try to claim him, to tame him, even as I know that he will then try to do the same in return.
But I don’t know enough about him, about his past, about his present. I don’t know what his deal is, other than who his father is.
Not only that, to go down that route would be a terrible mistake. For one thing, I don't know. There had definitely been something there between Tyler and me last night, even though neither one of us made a move. Shane, I know, won't rest until I sit on his lap, and you know he's not going to want me to just sit. He'll want either a lap dance or for me to ride him.
As for Corey, he's not far from my thoughts either. Loss is a hell of a thing. To potentially lose someone you love when they're so young, it's heartbreaking. It would break just about anyone. Not that it gives him a free pass, of course, but motivation? Yes. One's story plays a huge role in shaping who he or she is. I understand him now.
But Brett is the biggest fucking mystery of them all, and he’s also the biggest fucking asshole too.
I’m not going to tolerate any of his shit. Not now, not ever.
I hook my right foot around his ankle and clasp my hands together around his left arm. I tug in toward his belly with his arm and bump my hips, rolling us over so I’m on top again.
His legs are somehow on the outside of mine, and he quickly wraps around my waist tight, so tight that I can barely move, but I grab the waistband of his pants, shove one of my knees into his tailbone, and force my body sideways to break his leg lock behind me. I take the inner leg, the one from his tailbone, up and over his leg right by his groin and break myself free. Although I could take control of his side and try to get a submission on him, I jump to my feet and back away.
“I mean it,” I say. “Don’t force my hand and make me call Brandon Slade here.”
“He’s your—”
“That guy would chew up a Savage Reaper and spit out their bones. Trust me. You’re nothing to a guy like him.”
“You have no idea who I am,” he says.
“I know your father—”
“You don’t know my father.”
I say nothing.
“Whatever you read about in a report, in the news, it isn’t true.”
“Of course. Mr. Russo is the best man there could ever be, the best man in the entire world! There is no one on Earth, living or deceased, who can be named above him.”