Who would want someone like Lucas? Not me, that’s for damn sure.
“See if I give a shit. Go ahead and throw a tantrum.” I jerk my head back at my table. “I’ll be over there enjoying my lunch.”
Before the spectacle continues, I spin on my heel to end the conversation.
Lucas hooks his foot around my ankle as soon as I take a step and fucking trips me up. I stumble, but I don’t go down. My water bottle is the only thing to topple from my wobbling tray. I meet the eyes of a few people nearby and can sense the hunger for blood.
No one’s satisfied that I didn’t crash to the floor face first into my lunch.
I bend to retrieve the water bottle and when I rise, Lucas is two steps closer, lurking right behind me like an imposing shadow.
“Bravo,” I shoot over my shoulder. Lucas grinds his teeth, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “Real brave of a big, strong guy like you to actually trip a girl because she wasn’t interested in your bullshit.”
Squaring my shoulders, I stalk over to my table by the windows.
The nice girl from study hall is there. She grants me a half-smile and doesn’t pause in digging into her sparse lunch of basic food groups. A half-eaten roll sits next to a scoop of peas, an apple, and a plain cut of chicken.
I nod to her and drop across the table on the opposite bench, purposefully giving Lucas my back.
It doesn’t take away the weight of his attention zeroed in on me for the rest of the period.
Seven
Lucas
Fire roars in my blood when Gemma turns her back on me.
As she walks away, it takes every ounce of control not to grab her and drag her to my table. I let her go. For now.
It comes as a surprise when she still fights me. I expected her to fall over in fear, but she’s not afraid.
If Gemma doesn’t fear me, I can’t control her. If I can’t control her, then I’m not on top. That won’t stand. It was my mountain first and she won’t kick me off it with her blatant disregard for the way things work around here.
I stew through lunch, my gaze burning holes in the back of that uppity bitch’s head.
Something about her pisses me off. I don’t know whether it’s her ballsy implication I’m some rapist over a moment of mistaken identity and a kiss, or that she keeps stirring trouble. Not only do I still want a piece of her, now I want to take that prude down a peg.
I can kill two birds with one stone.
My mouth curves, but I feel no amusement.
I steal Devlin’s fries and he grumbles under his breath, jabbing me with a pointy elbow.
“Buy your own, dick.”
“If I bought my own, I wouldn’t get the thrill out of stealing yours.”
Devlin snorts and shoves his tray at me. His half-lidded gaze flicks over to Gemma’s table and the corners of his mouth tense.
I silently agree with him. Gemma Turner thinks she’s better than me. That she can just come in here from wherever-the-fuck and get by without playing by the rules.
This school is under my control. No one defies me.
It’s always been easy to command the attention of those around me. Teachers and Coach Garcia call it leadership skills. People fall all over themselves to listen to what I have to say.
They expect me to play the part of their god, so I can’t stand idly by while she runs around untamed. My rules apply to her, too.
The anger scorching my veins grows in intensity.