Glass Heart Savage - Lindsey Iler Page 0,62

your body, Palmer.” He licks his lips, blatantly checking me out like the dog he is.

“He’s lucky you stepped in,” I huff.

“I’m sure if you wanted to get to him, even I couldn’t stop you.” He shrugs, resting against a bank of lockers. “Do you believe what you said in there?”

I check my watch, and since I have free period next, I’ll entertain this little conversation. Not for his benefit, but for my own.

“What do you think?” I goad him, sitting on top of the glass display case Marek had bent me over. That memory feels like a lifetime ago. So much has happened since.

“Your curiosity will get you hurt, Palmer,” he says.

There’s no way Marek knows my motives. He’s completely fishing for more.

“I’m already hurt.” I jump down and slam my shoulder into his when he gets in my way. “Don’t you get that?”

“I’ll see you tonight,” Marek calls out behind me.

“No, you won’t.”

“Kickoff is at seven. I expect to see you in the stands, Palmer.” He does that horribly effective thing guys do when they check you out from head to toe.

Who does this guy think he is? After everything, he still has the audacity to demand such things from me. I’m not on the Glass House Boys’ roster anymore, if I ever was.

Stupidly, I turn and chase after him. Once we’re shoulder to shoulder, I glance his way and find a grin plastered on his face.

“Why do you think you’re in any position to be demanding things of me?” I cross my arms over my chest. “After everything you’ve done, the games you’ve played?”

“You still upset I slipped between your thighs while Byron watched? Or is it the fact that, for a single second, you thought you could change me? Be the one that turns this stone heart to mush?” He shrugs, quickening his pace until he is at a slow jog. Yards in front of me, he turns and winks. “I’m not in any position, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.”

“Marek!” I shout, running to catch him, bringing us chest-to-chest. “You have glass hearts. All four of you. It’s just a matter of time before someone comes along and exposes the cracks.”

“And let me guess, you’re going to be that girl.” He circles a finger around my loose, thick strands. “You really want to dance with the devil, baby?”

“You can’t intimidate me into silence and complacency.” I smack his hand, and he shakes the sting out between us. “Don’t think for a second I’m like the rest of these girls, plucking at the crumbs you leave for them on your boots. Also, Marek, don’t ever make a girl feel bad for enjoying sex. I don’t regret it, and it won’t be used against me.”

I swivel on my heels and head to the library, needing to spend this hour prepping for my upcoming exams. Halfway down the sidewalk, I chance it and glance back at Marek’s receding back. He checks over his shoulder, locking his eyes on mine. We watch each other, both of our steps slowing, taking in each other. Too far to see, I imagine him shaking his head with a pleased smile on his face.

I grab two coffees at the café cart and head inside the library, clutching the cups in my hands.

“I thought you’d never make it,” Delaney calls out when I pause to savor the warmth.

“It’s officially fall, and I’m freezing my ass off in this uniform.” I throw my bag down and pluck at the skirt. “You’d think we’d have a winter option.”

“And not allow the boys to objectify us all winter? They’d never dare,” Delaney jokes, taking the offered cup of iced coffee.

I sit down and stare off into space, too consumed with the conversation between Marek and me.

“Earth to Palmer.” Her hand waves in front of my face. “Everything all good?”

“Had a little run-in with the devils of Glass Heart just now, after first period, and then Marek again right after.” I shift my gaze to her, hoping for some words of wisdom or anything that will help me feel less alone. “I don’t know what to do anymore. He basically said I’ll be at the game tonight or else.”

“Your parents still not talking to you?” She leans back and takes a long sip.

“Radio silence. I’m not quite sure if it’s a blessing or a curse most days.”

The truth is I often think it’s better this way. Every visit since Reed has been built around guilt

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