The Moth and the Flame (When Rivals Play #2) - B.B. Reid Page 0,24

button. After only a couple of rings, a fuzzy picture of a gray tiled ceiling appeared. A second later, the focus changed, and I was staring at a stony-eyed Lou. Her dark hair was haphazardly piled on top of her head, emphasizing her youth and making her look angelic.

I could only sincerely accuse her of the former.

Tearing my gaze away, I peered into her background, attempting to determine her location. A bulletin board covered with papers and the narrow wooden door next to it were my only clues.

“I’m in class,” she confirmed through clenched teeth.

I smirked, remembering that it was the middle of a school day and satisfied to have gotten under her skin. It was only fair since she seemed to live underneath mine. I checked to make sure her earbuds were in before asking, “Is your school on fire?”

“No.”

I sat on the hood of my car, planted my feet on the bumper, and rested my elbows on my knees. I was strangely content as the rest of the world and all the bad inside it melted away. There was only Lou.

“Then what’s the emergency?”

She paused, and I knew that if she weren’t trying to hide the fact that she’d taken a call during class, she’d be screaming in my ear.

“You didn’t read my texts?”

“I must have forgotten to.” And then I smiled, making her scowl deepen.

She adjusted her position, and I narrowed my eyes at the writing on her chest. Surely my eyes were playing a cruel trick on me.

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

“What?” She glanced down at her tank top in confusion. “What’s wrong with my shirt?”

“Nothing if you’re trying to send a message.” My voice lowered to a whisper. “Are you sending a message, Lou?”

“Get a grip, Harlan. I’ve had this shirt since I was nine.”

I highly fucking doubted it. The fucking thing read ‘Take me to bed or lose me forever.’ The only thing keeping it from being a complete fucking come-on was the brown teddy bear next to it—unless you were into that sort of thing.

Then another thought—one that had me shooting up from the hood of my car—occurred to me. “I want to see the rest.”

“Pardon me?” she questioned, feigning modesty. Her wide-set eyes, however, did nothing to deter me. There was no way I could dismiss what she was wearing, and I had a feeling she expected no less from me. She probably planned it to get my attention.

“Pan the camera down now. Let me see you.”

She hesitated for all of three seconds before she did what she was told, and I pretended my cock didn’t take notice. I cursed when my suspicions were confirmed. Lou had been telling the truth all right. Judging by the way her breasts strained against the cotton and the sliver of skin peeking from underneath the hem, she’d also outgrown the shirt.

How the hell had she’d gotten away with it? Didn’t the school have some kind of policy? I asked her as much.

“I’ve been wearing my jacket all day,” she whispered before rolling her blue eyes.

“Put it on.”

She blinked twice. “What?”

“Put. It. On.”

“But it’s hot,” she whined, forgetting she was in class. A moment later, a woman was standing over her shoulder with her arms crossed, and I didn’t get to hear much before the call ended, but I did catch a glimpse of the sly grin on Lou’s face.

She thought she’d won.

Running my hand down my face, I tried to talk myself out of what I was about to do. Twenty minutes later, after breaking every traffic law written, I stalked the halls of West Bridge High, hunting my best friend.

“MISS VALENTINE,” MY TEACHER SAID the moment I hung up on Wren, “the bell doesn’t dismiss you. I dismiss you.” I was thinking up an equally clichéd response when she added, “In your case, it seems you couldn’t at least wait for the bell.”

“I’m really sorry, teach. That was my daddy.” A few of my classmates snickered. “He gets a little growly when he’s worried.”

“Miss Valentine, I am fully aware of your situation and know very well that wasn’t your father on the phone. However, in the note I’ll be sending home to your foster parents informing them of your detention, I’ll be sure to include the school’s office number in the case of an emergency.”

“Detention?” My head jerked back. “But it’s the last day of school!”

A chorus of sympathetic groans and not-so-sympathetic laughter erupted. She silenced them with a warning look before refocusing