memories, I walk down the deserted hall, glancing up at Grey’s beautiful profile. He’s still him but even more. It’s an aura, a vibe. He’s the king of his domain, and he knows it. He always was, though. Liam and I were in awe of him. Grey was smarter than kids our age and more skilled at everything. He was destined to rule. The role suits him, as does the chiseled jaw and filled-out blazer.
Grey must be at least six two. He looks like a grown man, with broad shoulders and hard, lean muscle everywhere—I’m guessing (or fantasizing, whichever) by how his ass teases in those chinos. His strong hand runs through his bedhead hair, brushing it back from his face, exposing long black eyelashes that serve as the perfect frame for his dark bedroom eyes. I glance again, watching his tongue dart out to glide across his perfect mouth that stands out against his olive-colored skin. He’s the embodiment of tall, dark, and handsome.
My tongue does the same, and I mirror him again, swallowing as I watch his Adam’s apple bob on his stubbled throat.
This grown-up version of Grey is lethal. Kill me now. I feel like I’m in heat.
“Don’t do that, or I’ll be tempted not to be decent to you.”
God, I wonder what indecent Grey is like?
Even as he chastises me, his voice is level and his eyes stay straight ahead while we walk. He didn’t have to see me watching him; he knew. It’s like my attention was expected. Oh man, Grey is a slut, and I bet he’s good at it.
“Do what?” I answer innocently, averting my eyes.
Now his head turns.
“Cherry, I bet you break hearts.”
I want to give him a snarky remark to keep this banter going, but my reality creeps in. Shit. It’s go time. My smile fades as we slow in front of a wide oak door. It has a window in the middle that gives a sneak peek of the classroom.
Grey reaches out and grips the handle, twisting it, and pulls it open. The teacher’s voice grows louder against the creak of the door as the class comes into view. She turns with a stern manner at the interruption, and I instinctively look to Grey, whose face remains impassive.
He takes a few steps inside, but as I follow, the teacher holds up a hand to stop my progress, and I internally cringe.
“Hold there. We have assigned seating. Something you would know if you were punctual.”
Keeping my eyes to hers, I hear the door click behind me, and I stand uncomfortably in the center, fidgeting with the strap on my bag. Grey turns around to take a step toward me, but she directs him to take his seat. When he doesn’t move, I look at him wide-eyed and mouth, “Go sit,” but he shakes his head, seeming amused. He takes a few steps backward before turning and rounds a desk to walk down the aisle to lower into his seat.
I watch as he leans to his right, saying something to a boy I don’t recognize. My curiosity is piqued until the frumpy AP English Lit. teacher says my name without a glimmer of kindness. “Donovan Kennedy. I expected you twenty minutes ago. I’m sure Mr. McCallister is charming, but first impressions are important.”
Calm down.
“I apologize. I had to meet with the dean first and get my books,” I answer politely, wanting this moment to end. Hoping she takes pity on me, I add an apologetic smile.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Grey lean back and over again, but this time to someone behind the boy he was previously talking to. Before I can focus on who he is speaking with, whispers begin, and the teacher snaps her fingers to the class.
She taps her pencil against the desk while she stares at her chart, but when she opens her mouth to speak, a deep but familiar voice dominates the room, sending shivers up my shoulders. The teacher clasps her hands together in mild irritation, her face shooting in the direction the sound is coming from.
“Deborah. Are you saying Miss Kennedy chose to be late? You know, in the hopes you would embarrass her in front of twenty strangers on her first day?”
Liam.
I search him out, landing on his gorgeous, smug face. A flash of us as kids passes through my thoughts, and I can’t help but beam as he does the same. God, he’s beautiful. His hands curl over the