school have dominated my thoughts. “A girl like me is bad for a boy like you.”
I call bullshit. There’s no possible way that she’s bad for me, but what’s got me thinking is why she thinks that. And I’m no closer to an answer since she’s like a damn vault. She’s dodgier than a damn politician, only giving information when the mood strikes, and the last time was in line at the haunted house. Her mom treated her like shit, and Donovan’s default was to blame herself. Whatever Donovan’s done, however much has happened to her when I wasn’t on watch, shows up as regret behind her eyes. If she’d let me, I’d make everyone pay for putting it there.
Liam lets out a long exhale, and I know he’s staring at her too. He’s gone over her. He’s admitted as much, but it’s grown since the lake. We haven’t spoken a word about that night to each other, but I see the way he looks at her, the attraction displayed in the way his body finds hers. And the way his hands always find a way to touch her. I get it, and I hate it, too. But the difference between Liam and me is something that works in my favor. Liam respects her wishes to be friends. He doesn’t push; he patiently wishes for more.
I’m too much of a prick for that.
“Mmhmm.” I hum my answer to his thought before he says it.
“Are you as irritated as I am that we can’t tell which one of us she’s staring at?”
Like I said, mmhmm. But I don’t answer aloud again and turn my attention back to the coach, trying to listen to him complain about our drive. It’s all hot air. Something he thinks is motivational, but our success is already motivation enough. Out of the side of my eye, I see Liam lean back, and I know he’s doing something to get her attention—he can’t help himself. It makes me want to take his head off.
“Remember when we used to make her row with us?”
My shoulders shake, relaxing as I remember how scared she always was, until Liam called her a chicken, and then she pretended to be indifferent while basically pissing her pants.
I turn and stare at her again, remembering her face back then, her giggles, the way she would blow out little screams as we rowed, and before I register what I’m doing, I’m walking in her direction. “McCallister,” the coach calls out, but I keep going, undeterred, until I reach where she’s sitting.
She smiles, looking around me at what I assume is the team staring at us.
“I think you’re wanted.”
“Probably,” I answer down to her. “But you know what I was thinking? Remember when Liam and I used to take you out—”
She snaps up a finger, halting the rest of my sentence.
“Umm. No. I don’t remember being terrified of that little boat and you two rowing like maniacs. That memory isn’t stored in my brain like trauma. Nope. Not at all.”
I hear my name called out again behind me, but I’m busy.
“Come on,” I direct, tilting my head. “We need a coxswain, you know, someone little to sit at the very front.”
Her finger points in Ethan’s direction. “He looks fine.”
“E!” I yell over my shoulder, not taking my eyes off of her.
I hear a faint “Ow” followed by Liam laughing as her head starts to shake furiously.
“Absolutely not.”
Her body is rigid as she sits up, stalk straight. The expression on her face is a big “hell no.” But I wasn’t asking. I squat down, noticing how her eyes dart to my thighs, then back to my face.
“You’ll come willingly, or I’ll make you. Pick it, Cherry.”
“Make me? I dare you. I fight back, Grey. I may even bite.”
“Promise?”
I place a hand on the ground and lunge forward with a deep growl, wrapping my arm around her waist and hoisting her roughly over my shoulder before I dead-lift her back to standing.
“Grey! Oh my God! What the fuck are you doing?”
Her screams have me laughing as I turn around and slow-jog back down to the guys. She’s too afraid of her ass showing to fight me off and keeps one hand on the back of her skirt, the other gripping the waistband of my bike shorts, which makes what I’m doing much more manageable than I anticipated. The moment my feet slow, she starts up again, yelling profanities and threats, but her complaints are drowned out by