“Everyone’s staring,” I blurted, too overwhelmed to make any sense of what was happening.
Zane leaned closer, dipping his face to mine. “Let them stare. I don’t give a shit about anyone but you. You’re mine, Celeste.” He touched his head to mine, breathing me in. “And I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks about it.”
Zane
My heart thrummedin my chest, making it hard to think straight. But Celeste looked… fuck, she looked like every guy’s fantasy come true.
The black satin dress hugged her waist, flaring over her hips and finishing just above her knee. Her hair was gathered in a high ponytail with the ends curled, drawing attention to the thick black choker sitting at the base of her neck.
Fuck. That was hot.
I could imagine tugging on that while I—
“Zane.”
My name on her lips yanked me from the less than innocent thoughts running through my mind.
Celeste’s lashes fluttered as her cheeks flushed, an adorable red blush that matched her lips, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking about.
Jesus, I was in trouble.
So much fucking trouble.
The entire room watched us, but I only had eyes for her. Even if I was aware of the DA football team all glaring in my direction. But none of them dared to approach or say anything. Because while Celeste might not have been popular at DA, she was still Michael Rowe’s daughter and that gave her some level of protection. I wasn’t sure it would ever stretch to my presence on DA territory, but I didn’t care.
I was here for her.
Only ever her.
This kind, strong, tenacious girl who wasn’t scared to go after what she wanted and put her neck on the line for the people she cared about.
I still couldn’t believe she had given Nate the money to give to me. To Grams.
“You take my breath away,” I said, brushing my lips over her cheek, my heart crashing in my goddamn chest.
A soft sigh escaped Celeste as she turned toward me, our mouths aligning, sliding together. She laced her hands behind my neck, choosing me in front of her classmates, her teachers, maybe even the odd parent chaperone.
I’d grown up believing I didn’t need anyone except Grams, Nix, and Kye. But this—feeling her soft lips on mine, her curves beneath my hands—was more than I could have ever imagined.
She didn’t care that I was the broken boy from The Row, barely keeping my head above the surface. Celeste didn’t care. She never had. I just hadn’t wanted to believe it.
Hadn’t thought I deserved it.
“Zane,” she breathed, kissing me softly before pulling back to look at me. “What are you doing here?”
“You are so fucking beautiful. Dance with me.”
“D-dance… you want todance?” She glanced over at the half-empty dance floor. Most people were still gawking at us, but still, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
“You keep stealing my firsts, Einstein, you might as well have another.”
“You know, you can’t really call me Einstein anymore.”
“What’s wrong with Einstein?” I grinned, and she gave me a pointed look. “Fine, how about I call you mine instead?”
She ran her hands up my chest. “I really like the sound of that.”
“Good because I like the sound of it too.” My hands dropped to her ass, pulling her closer.