Dirty Little Secrets (Hillcrest Prep #1.5) - Trilina Pucci Page 0,29

doing something I shouldn’t.

Liam takes a step forward, so I take one back. But he doesn’t stop, forcing me backward quickly into an alcove, flanked by lockers. He halts me, hand on my waist just before my back touches the cold wall.

“Eavesdropping is beneath you.”

My eyes narrow while my arms cross. “Well, we both seem to want to stoop to new lows today.” I add a pout as I say in a baby voice, “Be my friend, Donovan.”

I need to shut my mouth. This isn’t going to make Liam forgive me any sooner for the cafeteria.

The side of Liam’s mouth tips into a crooked grin, but his fingers press tighter into my waist as he gives me a tiny push against the concrete.

“What are you doing here? Stalking? Missed me that much, huh.”

“I was walking by,” I level, shoving his hand from my waist. “But since I overheard your little chat, why not talk about you. I never thought you’d beg for her attention. It’s pathetic.”

He huffs an empty laugh and steps back to pull out a toothpick from the front embroidered pocket of his school blazer. Popping it between his impossibly white teeth, he looks me up and down.

“I’ve never begged for her attention. And what would you know about begging?”

That damn toothpick wiggling, set against his grin—God, it’s making me all flush. I can’t stop staring. He leans in closer, and my lips part ever so slightly. “I wonder what a begging Caroline would sound like?”

“You’ll never know.”

“Right. Because you’ve got everything you want.”

I don’t answer, opting for a lackluster scowl that seems to amuse him because he adds, “Come on. Think hard. There has to be something you want but don’t have.”

The way his mouth moves around those words—fuck. I’m losing all focus, unable to whip out a response when he does stuff like this. Goddamn him.

“Nope.”

“How about a truce.”

My eyes lock to his.

“Me and you—we could kiss and make up.” His tongue darts out over his bottom lip. “Tell me something, Carebear. How badly do you want that?”

More than I should.

“Enough that you’d beg for it?”

I have been.

His eyes shift between mine like he sees through me. But he doesn’t. I’ve mastered the art of staying invisible, even in the spotlight. If he did see me, he’d know I’m full of shit. But my attitude serves me well. It hides the fact that all I want is a hit—an argument, crude flirting, being teased. I’ll take all or any of it, even knowing that it’s empty and meaningless.

That’s the worst part of unrequited love—knowing you’re the fool and being unable to stop yourself.

His fingers brush the top of my ear as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind it, just as patronizingly as I did to Laura earlier.

Liam’s intoxicatingly closer. So close that I think I can feel the prick of the toothpick.

“Nah, you’re too posh to beg. Right? Plus, what’s the point when you want the one thing you can’t have.”

Nope. Wrong about which prick was stabbing me. My hands shove Liam backward, barely gaining any room, as he chuckles.

I make a gagging sound. “Keep flattering yourself. You’re no prize for me, Brooks.”

He gives a tip of a hat gesture. “It was almost nice talking to you again, Carebear. I won’t make that mistake again.”

My lips press together to stop whatever “can’t come back from” words I’m about to say from spilling out. But seeing Liam saunter off gets the best of me, and I hurl venom at his back.

“She’ll never choose you. You’re a fool.”

He answers over his shoulder, “I don’t expect that she will, but I chose her, remember?”

Yes, I remember, you dick. It was the only thing you said to me during my cafeteria fail last week. I stare at Liam’s back, hating him for making the memory of those hateful words come back.

“And you”—Liam scowls, looking directly at me—“you aren’t the girl I thought you were. I don’t know what you did, but I choose Van.”

Acknowledgments

Thank you so much to the team of people that help to make each book the absolute best it can be: To Erica, Becky, Rumi and Sarah—my words are better because of you.

Thank you to Lou for creating beauty from my chaos.

To Ashlee—Your talent is limitless, don’t forget it.

To my betas for always devouring my words. My posse for screaming my name and my readers for being so loyal.

And finally, to Gretchen for talking me off every ledge only to force me to fly. Ride or Die.