Glass Heart Savage - Lindsey Iler Page 0,101

a way to justify all her lies.” He sidesteps me, the plate in his hands giving me an evil idea. “You always did like the crazy ones. Is their mother next?”

“Fuck you.” I walk past him and slam my closed fist on his tray. The glass plate shatters at his feet, and food splatters across his uniform and shoes. “I take care of my own, Dillon. You would be wise to remember that. It would suck if someone didn’t block for you tonight.”

“Is that a threat?” he yells across the cafeteria.

I stop at Palmer’s side and place her food in front of her. Twelve steps bring me back in Dillon’s face, nose to nose. My fists itch, ready to throw a punch. One quick check over my shoulder, and I know I can’t. Palmer’s eyes beg me not to do what instinct tells me needs to happen.

“She’s got you soft, Hawthorne.” He chuckles. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Nothing about me is soft, and I never make threats. Watch your back, asshole.” I rush back to Palmer, and try to relax. My heart thumps against my chest, angry and fueled up for a fight.

“That killed you, didn’t it, not throwing that punch he clearly deserved?” Palmer finally says. She pushes the plate across the table to me. “Maybe you’re hangry.”

“He was running his mouth is all.” I pull off a piece. “You see this?” I run my finger over the delicate knots. “This is how you make me feel. Twisted up, knotted in all the right places, to the point of gooey, soft perfection. The old me, the one before you, would have taken him to an inch of his life.”

“But maybe you’re capable of change.”

“Those who respect you don’t ask you to change, Palmer.” I stand. “Enjoy your pretzel.” I pause for a split second and hate myself for it.

What do I expect her to do? Stop me and apologize for something she doesn’t even realize she’s doing? No, and I’m in no position to demand anything of her. This will have to go at her pace with little interference from me.

I’m not a patient boy. She will come off the shelf again, but this time, she’ll be something cherished. Not a toy. Not a collectible. She’ll always be something more than that.

******

“You’ve walked me to and from class for the last three days, Marek.” Palmer stops on the steps of her dorm. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed you making yourself late for football practice. State championships are tonight, right?”

I lower my head and hide my eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Marek, give me a little credit. Your coach is having your ass, isn’t he?”

I glance up and grin, holding my fingers a tiny space apart. “Maybe a little bit.”

She laughs, and it isn’t forced like the few she’s slipped over the last couple of days. Our time together is short-lived here lately. Every second we spend together makes me feel like I can breathe a little easier. I said I’d keep this at her pace, but every day we aren’t together makes the possibility feel less likely. Waiting is something most girls make me do.

“I’ll make you a deal.” She pulls the strap of her backpack a little tighter, gripping it like it will somehow make whatever she has to say easier. “Since you didn’t catch the hint on Monday when you said you’d end this charade, if you stop walking me to and from class like some rabid watchdog, I’ll come to your game tonight,” she offers.

“Seriously?” I lift my eyes, not trying to hide how happy that makes me.

“Will it get you to stop making yourself late?” Her eyes soften as she inspects me.

“What is in it for you?” I nod my chin at her. This seems like the beginning of a trap.

“You mean, watching you beat the fuck out of some poor guys isn’t incentive enough?” She shrugs. “And there isn’t really anything in it for me. Plus, I already told Breaker I’d be there.”

Fucking Breaker.

“I think you’re warming up to me, Palmer Weston.” I wag my finger at her, slinking away before she can change her mind.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself!” she shouts.

The amusement in her voice has my stomach flipping around like I’m a thirteen-year-old boy with his first crush. Fuck me. I may need to find some way to remind myself of the guy I was before Palmer.

“Can’t wait to see your cute ass up in those stands!” I yell, catching

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