I knew exactly how she felt, what that could lead to.
Her arousal was still slick on the base of my dick, and I was already missing her warmth, her tight body writhing under mine, her labored breathing against my hand. I wanted to make her forget her life again, help her find oblivion in ecstasy over and over and over until nothing else mattered. But this wasn’t some fantasy where we could just run away and spend the rest of our lives fucking in a cabin in the woods.
Donna cleared her throat as she finished buttoning up her shirt. “Can I have my underwear back, please?”
I did my pants back up, tucked my shirt in, straightened my tie, took my sweet-ass time to respond. “No,” I told her with a slight twitch of my lips.
Her eyes narrowed. “Hendrix, don’t be ridiculous. I need my underwear. I can’t go back to class like this. What if I trip or something and my skirt goes flying up?”
“Then don’t go to class.” I ran my hands through my hair and brushed the creases from my uniform. The assembly had finished, and a cacophony of sound drifted in through the narrow window—students all talking over one another, feet shuffling toward the exits. We backed farther into the darkness, closer to the door.
Donna finished straightening herself up as well, her appearance as pristine as possible without a mirror or a brush. Then she gave me a firm look.
“I don’t have time for this. We need to slip into the crowd as everyone’s leaving so we don’t get caught. Give me my panties.” She reached for my pocket, but I brushed her hands away and backed up against the wall.
I could see that look in her eyes returning—the one that hardened her against the world. She was retreating, probably freaking out about all she’d told me, seconds away from running from me yet again and avoiding even acknowledging what just happened between us. But I was done letting Donna Mead walk away from me. I was done letting her walk away from her problems. I was done letting her control everything. She’d been doing it for years, and it clearly wasn’t working for her.
“You can have them. In ten minutes.”
“What?” She frowned and glanced at the door. Our window was closing.
“Meet me at the east entrance in ten minutes, and you can have them back. Bring your coat.”
“Hendrix, I’m not going to skip class to . . .”
I didn’t hang around to listen to her enraged demands. I just opened the door, made sure no one was looking, and rushed down the stairs until I was close enough behind a group of freshman girls to look as if I was exiting with the rest of the students.
I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder and check if Donna was doing the same. She was a big girl—she’d figure it out.
As I passed through the auditorium’s double doors, I accidentally caught the eye of Mr. Monroe—my English teacher. The guy was the youngest staff member at Fulton but easily the most hard-ass. He had the best opportunity to connect with his students because of his youth, but I’d never even seen the dude smile, let alone crack a joke.
He frowned at me before pushing his glasses back up his nose. I had no idea what that was about, but I smiled back politely and breezed on past. The only surefire way to get caught doing something dodgy was to act as though you had something to hide.
Between going to my locker to get my stuff and walking out to my car, I questioned my decision to cut class about a thousand times.
I was breaking my vow to keep my head down, stay out of trouble, and get past my senior year without any hiccups. I was also breaking my aunt’s trust.
I got into my car and sighed, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. Maybe I should just go back inside. If I hurried, I wouldn’t even be late for gym. But then Donna would be left standing on the sidewalk alone, and she’d be pissed. And hurt, even if she didn’t show it. I couldn’t let her down—especially after I’d manipulated her into coming.
Sighing, I pulled my phone out and shot a quick message to my aunt.
I’m skipping school for the rest of the day. I promise it’s important and necessary. Can you please cover for me if the school calls?