Nightfall (Devil's Night #4) - Penelope Douglas Page 0,79

was how neurotic I was.

Unfortunately, the long arm of Will Grayson stretched all the way into the teacher’s gradebook and changed my zero to a hundred percent, despite the missing assignment.

Not very inconspicuous. I would’ve been fine with a ninety-eight. Safe with a ninety-two, even.

I’d inform Mr. Townsend tomorrow that the grade was wrong.

If I didn’t forget.

I walked across the empty locker room and opened the shower curtain, stepping in and hanging my towel on the hook. Turning on the water, I dipped my already wet head under the spray, my skin breaking out in goosebumps at the feel of the hot water.

It was only four thirty in the afternoon. I still had hours before I was supposed to meet Will, and even though I’d spent the rest of the day—and my private time sneaking into the pool for a workout afterward—trying to tell myself I wouldn’t care when eleven rolled around, and I’d left him waiting at the end of my block, it hurt inside a little at the idea of blowing him off.

It shouldn’t hurt, right? I never agreed to go to his house tonight. He never even asked. Just another guy making you feel obligated to show him how grateful you are for his attention.

I pumped some shampoo into my hand from the dispenser on the wall and washed my hair, trying to hurry. I still had to make dinner, do homework, and I’d promised my grandma we’d watch a movie in her room tonight.

And I still wanted to get to the gazebo tonight to get some work done.

Will could come to me. If he found me.

I rinsed my hair and conditioned, pumping some soap into my hand and scrubbing the pool off my body. But I stopped, feeling the nubs on my legs.

Maybe I should shave again. I mean, if he found me, I…

Then I shook my head and stood up straight. For Christ’s sake. Get it together.

I finished washing and ducked my head under the water again, rinsing the conditioner out of my hair as I stared ahead.

But then a shadow moved on the other side of the shower curtain, and I froze.

It stopped, standing there, the dark form looming just outside.

My heart skipped a beat. Only the emergency lighting remained on since there wasn’t supposed to be anyone staying after school for any sports or band today, so I blinked as if that would clear my vision.

Shit, I needed my glasses. I could see okay without them, but I was nearsighted.

“Hello?” I called out. “Who is that?”

Forgetting to turn off the shower, I reached over and grabbed my towel, holding it up to my body.

“Martin?” I said.

The shadow peeled back the curtain slowly, and a lump swelled in my throat as Damon Torrance stepped into the shower with me.

“What the hell?” I barked.

But he just came closer, closing the curtain and approaching me with a towel around his waist, his smile coming into view.

“Martin?” he repeated. “Why would your brother be stalking the girls’ locker room?”

“Why are you?”

I backed into the wall, the shower spilling over my shoulders and drenching the towel I clasped to my body.

He shrugged. “Practice just ended. I needed a shower.”

“The team isn’t practicing tonight.” I shoved him in the chest, pushing him away. “You’ve been here. Were you waiting for me?”

But he just came right back in, pinning me to the wall. “Shhh…”

He stroked my hair, pressing his body into mine as he breathed down on me.

My knees started to tremble, and I clenched my thighs, suddenly feeling like I was going to wet myself.

I jerked away, pushing at him with one hand and holding my towel with the other. “What do you want?”

He pinned my wrist to the wall at my side as he smiled down. “I want to know what he sees in you. Maybe I’ll see it, too.”

My stomach twisted into a knot. I’d rather fucking die.

I looked up into his black eyes and smelled that shit he smoked, a scream lodged in my throat.

Just scream.

Scream.

There was no one here to hear me, and even if there were, Martin Scott wouldn’t believe me. I was going to pay for this either way.

“Get out,” I gritted through my teeth. “Get the hell away from me!”

“I thought you’d have more fight,” he said, studying me. “You’re kind of disappointing.”

What, you can only get hard if I’m scared?

I was scared.

“Leave.” I glared up into his eyes and then slapped him, but he shot out for my hands, trying to