like to be taken care of once in a while?
I just didn't think it would be Church Montague, President of the Adamson All-Boys Academy Student Council, doing it.
“I read an article that says chocolate helps cure cramps,” he tells me, moving into my room and frowning at the open window. It's pouring rain outside, but I need the air. I'm just so stressed about Spencer, and the way everything went down. That's not what I wanted. Shit, it was the last thing I wanted. “You know what else cures cramps?” he asks, totally icy and deadpan.
I sigh.
“I'll bite: what is it?”
Church smiles so cheerfully, it lights up the entire room with sunbeams.
“Sex.” He pats me on the head as I groan, and then glances toward the window with a long sigh. “Don't worry about that idiot. He's not out in the rain and cold if that's what you're thinking. He likes to retreat to cabin ten when he needs space. He truly believes we don't know that's his spot, but we all do.”
“Cabin ten? Like one of the staff cabins?” Church nods and then turns back to me, his lips curving to the side in a sensual little smirk.
“I wasn't joking about the sex part. Hit me up if you change your mind.”
“Get out.” I push him from my room, and then lock the door with all of Spencer's amazing additions.
Eventually, I fall asleep, but when I wake up a few hours later, it's because of intense cramping.
“Stupid freaking period,” I groan, getting up and rushing to the bathroom to take out my tampon. How fun is that, having to deal with period stuff in an all-boys' bathroom at an all boys' school? I'll tell you how fun it is: it sucks.
I climb in the shower next, switching to the bath once I'm clean.
It's so peaceful in there, with the classical music playing, and the pretty marble walls and floor. It smells like me and Church, like the lilac-rosemary shampoo we both like.
My lips curve into a smile as my eyes close, and my head falls back against the cushy bath pillow that's suctioned to the rear of the tub. It's brand new, too. They keep a fresh stock of them in the cabinet for students.
My mind drifts off, imagining a hundred different scenarios between me and Spencer. Could we possibly date? What would that be like, with all the other Student Council boys around?
Then again, I'd be lying if I said Spencer was my only crush at Adamson Academy.
The sound of the bathroom door gives me pause, and I realize that maybe I should've called one of the boys up here to stay with me while I bathed. But … I was bleeding through, and I didn't really want them around …
Now I'm regretting that.
“Guys?” I call out, but there's no response.
That's when I start to get freaked out, climbing from the bath in a tumble of bubbles, and not even bothering to towel off. I just pull on my fresh pajamas as fast as I can, and then grab my phone.
In the bathroom, help.
I send a quick group text, and then pick up my pepper spray. I've been keeping it in this little decorative fairy bag, along with the hammer, crowbar, knife and Taser.
Just in case.
“I'm warning you: I've got weapons. If you step through that door, I will use them with all due force.” The doorknob stops jiggling, and I pause, the only sound that of my breathing and the drip-drip-drip of the faucet. “You better get the hell out of here before my friends show up!” I yell, voice echoing off the marble walls.
My only warning is a slight shuffling sound from behind me.
I spin as fast as I can and press the top down on the pepper spray, nailing the hoodie-wearing douche right in the face. He—this one is definitely a he—roars in pain, and I swear … I almost recognize the voice.
I don't bother to stick around, heading for the door and unlocking it, just in time to run into Church. He grabs me and pushes me aside as a second attacker appears and slams into him, knocking them both to the floor.
As they struggle, the other man comes out of the stall, rubbing at his eyes. I still can't make out who it is, but I don't care. I pull the crowbar from my bag, and then hit the piece of shit that’s on top of Church as hard as I can in