“I think we should hang out,” he rasps, dragging his teeth along the seam of his lower lip.
“Hang out or hook up?” I counter, running a finger down his chest, which is immediately rewarded with a little shiver running down his spine.
“Whatever interests you the most,” he taunts mischievously.
I turn my head just enough for our lips to be a hair’s breadth away from each other.
“Never. Going. To. Happen. Pretty boy,” I point out, so close to his mouth that he can almost taste my rejection on his luscious lips. “Go find yourself a blow-up doll you can have fun with. There are plenty of plastic ones walking around Richfield for your amusement.”
I push him off me and run in haste to my classroom, not looking back at the stunned, hot-as-hell jock that must be picking up his jaw from the ground.
Professor Harper slants her eyes at my tardy entrance but doesn’t call me out on it. Thank God. My eyes spot a few vacant seats at the far back of the classroom, and even though I probably won’t hear a word of today’s lecture from all the way up there, I don’t scan the room further for a more appealing seating. I don’t want to piss Professor Harper off further by disrupting her class any more than I have to.
The minute my ass finds its seat, I let out a little gasp when another student unexpectedly sits right beside me with a loud thud. I turn to see who it is, and my lips thin in contempt—royal blue eyes stare me down, telling me they aren’t done with my ass just yet, no matter where I run off to.
Great. Just fucking great.
Like I need the extra distraction today. I swear, if Finn Walker doesn’t get the hint, I’ll probably murder him. Or fuck his brains out. If I’m honest, it’s looking fifty-fifty either way right about now.
Chapter 7
Finn
My leg bounces up and down while I impatiently watch Stone take down her class notes, pretending I’m not even here. I know it was a bold move chasing after her the way I did, but to be honest, desperate times call for desperate measures.
Following her into the classroom can go either one of two ways—she will finally acknowledge my existence and hear me out, or she’ll march down to the sheriff’s department and get a restraining order on my ass as soon as this class finishes.
Can I honestly blame her if she does the latter?
The way I’ve been carrying on is downright psychotic. If the shoe were on the other foot, I wouldn’t handle it with such sarcastic humor as hers. I thought I could keep wearing her down until she caved, but unfortunately, today I got another incentive to up my game when it came to Stone.
Apparently, The Society isn’t thrilled with the snail’s pace I’ve been taking to win the brash girl over. This morning, I almost choked on my protein-powder shake when Mom handed me another black envelope with its trademark red seal. Luckily for me, she didn’t ask too many questions, but I saw she was intrigued enough to keep lingering around in the kitchen, waiting to see if I’d open it in front of her.
Fat chance that was going to happen.
Instead, I just threw her what I hope looked like a genuine, innocent smile and told her I was late for morning practice. I then gave her a quick peck on the cheek and hauled ass out of there.
When I got to the safety of my car, I ripped open the wretched thing. I thought I was going to hurl my breakfast up in my lap and have to go back inside to change. I got the fuckers’ message loud and clear, even though it took me a few times to fully register it in my panicked mind. In bold, golden lettering, their threat pierced my heart, making me realize that all the fun and games were now officially off the table. Things were about to get real if I didn’t change my tactics. And fast.
These bastards, whoever they are, demand quick results, and so far, I haven’t been able to give them any. To The Society, chasing Stone’s fine ass around campus doesn’t count for shit. They want me to befriend her, become part of her life. However, the way I’ve been going about it hasn’t satisfied them in the least.