“I can show you upstairs.” Odis shoves out of his chair.
I roll my eyes. “I don’t need any help, thank you.”
“Are you sure?” Odis mocks. “You don’t even know what room you’re going to be in.” Like I care. I don’t need his help. I’ll figure it out on my own.
“Goodnight, and congratulations,” I say before shoving out of my chair. I do my best to stop myself from stomping out of the dining room like a five-year-old.
Odis is right behind me, moving like a shadow. He has a lot of nerve, a-lot-of-fucking-nerve.
I make a beeline for the stairs, my strappy heels slapping against the floor and bouncing off the walls. This entire house is outrageous with the high ceilings, crown molding, marble flooring, and the damn water fountain out front.
Who has a damn water fountain in front of their house?
I don’t get a chance to remedy that thought because as soon as I turn the corner and start walking down the hall, I’m grabbed from behind. I’m not completely shocked since I knew he was there all along, following me, but I still let out a small gasp when he shoves me against the wall and cages me in with his body, the hard planes of his body pressed against mine.
His scent invades my senses—cinnamon and cardamom—a spicy, intoxicating scent. I’m taken aback, knocked off my axis for a millisecond when he leans in, brushes his nose against mine, and presses his lips to mine.
The kiss is like jumping into the deep end of the pool and realizing a second too late that you don’t know how to swim. Exhilarating, but a mistake, nonetheless.
Raw heat blazes across my lips where our skin touches and flames of fire ignite in my core. Out of nowhere, reality comes barging in, and I’m reminded of just who it is I’m kissing, or more to the point, who is kissing me.
Lifting my hands, I press them to his chest and give him a hard shove backward.
Then I raise a hand and slap him across the face, the sting of the hit radiating across my palm. I welcome the pain. It’s a reminder that I’m alive and that I shouldn’t give in to these assholes. They made my life hell once before, and just because they’re older and hotter doesn’t mean that I can forget the bad things they did.
That’s not how I am. I can’t forgive and forget.
I stomp off, turning to the first door I find, hoping and praying it is the right one. I can’t stand to be around anyone right now, and definitely not kissed, least of all by my bully.