While she thinks she’s gotten a read on me, that’s not entirely true. I’ve never shown what lurks inside until that night in the forest. And only with Naomi.
Everyone else’s attention is on Owen, who’s still obliviously talking about how he killed that bear.
I grin, casually sliding my phone into my Black Devils jacket. “Defeat isn’t a word I believe in.”
“It still exists.” She tilts her chin in the direction of where I hid my phone. “She’s a hard nut to crack, isn’t she?”
“Not really.”
“Then did you sleep with her?”
The fucking bet again. No idea why she’s so insistent on something childish when I haven’t even thought about the thing. It doesn’t matter anymore. It probably never did.
“I take that as a no?” she asks. “What’s taking you so long?”
“Ever heard of the edging concept, Rei? The prey tastes better after it’s been chased and brought to its knees.”
“And you think that’s possible with Naomi?”
“If anyone can make it happen, it’s me.”
Reina raises a perfect brow, as if challenging me, but she doesn’t press the issue.
“Make what happen?” Owen drops down on my left after he finishes his show.
Reina traces her red nails over the edge of her glass but doesn’t drink. “Naomi.”
“Dude!” My friend jabs his shoulder against mine. “You still didn’t tap that Asian chick?”
Hot burning fire courses through my veins, threatening to douse the entire table, but nothing shows on the outside. Thank fuck, aka my upbringing, for that.
If I defend her or show any interest in her in front of them, it’ll backfire. Reina will smell the blood she started this whole bet for and the rest of them will turn malicious.
They need to think this is merely a bet.
“She’s such a bitch, I swear.” Brianna stabs her fork in her salad. “I can’t wait to see her fall to pieces.”
“Bree,” Prescott says in a semi-warning tone. “She’s still a part of the squad.”
“Not for long.” She flips her bleached hair over her shoulder. “You think she’ll quit after Sebastian destroys her?”
“She won’t.” Reina sighs.
“But isn’t that the whole point, Rei?”
The cheer squad’s captain stares at me. “Who knows?”
What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
“Come on, guys,” Owen says. “She’s pretty.”
Brianna rolls her eyes. “You think anyone in a skirt is pretty.”
“Not you.”
“Is that why you keep begging me for a BJ?”
“There was begging, but not from me.” He waves her off. “And you trying to divert the subject back to you is called narcissism, Bree. Don’t be jealous because I said Naomi is pretty.”
My teammate Josh licks his lips. “She reminds me of those Japanese porn actresses. Do you think she makes those erotic-as-fuck noises like them?”
In my mind, I’m jumping across the table, grabbing him by the neck, then bashing his head against the floor. Once, twice, until blood oozes from a crack in his forehead. Then I go on until he loses some of his teeth and starts wailing like a fucking bitch.
In reality, I remain still. I don’t even reach for my drink. Any change in my body language will betray my thoughts. I’ve learned not only to conceal my emotions but also to never allow anyone to read them.
Thinking about inflicting violence, imagining the whole scene and its repercussions, is what helps me to cope.
Not now, though.
Josh’s words still ring in my head. The fact that he’s picturing Naomi in a porn scenario and fucking stereotyping about it burns hot in my veins. I need payback before I’ll be able to get over it.
Most of those present at the table laugh as he goes on and on about Japanese porn and how he’s an expert. If I change the subject, it’ll be obvious, but there’s no way in fuck I’ll keep quiet for any longer.
The scenario where his head is bashed open on the ground is rushing faster to the surface, demanding to become a reality.
“Those sounds are fake,” Prescott says.
“How do you know?” Josh points his beer at him. “Did you tap a Japanese girl’s exotic ass?”
“No, but I know you’re being a racist bigot right now, not to mention an asshole.”
“Ohh, is the pretty boy feeling triggered?” our teammate taunts.
“Shut the fuck up, Josh. You’re making a joke out of yourself.” I stand and leave without another word.
If I’d stayed for one more second, I would’ve made my fantasy come true, but murder isn’t on the list of things I want my grandpa to get me out of.