get? It’s not like there is an online instruction manual that I can look up to learn how to woo a girl. Can a girl like Stone even be wooed? And why the hell am I saying woo, all of a sudden?
Shit.
I’m losing it big time. This last letter fucked me up real good.
I’m not sure how much time passes by as I try to come up with ways to get in Stone’s good graces. But all too soon, I see students around us beginning to jump up from their seats, officially announcing the end of the class.
As Stone starts putting her stuff away, I just sit there looking like a chump, feeling even more flustered for not coming up with a strategy that will keep The Society off our backs.
“Move, quarterback. I need to get to my next class,” she snaps at me, but it doesn’t have her usual teasing tone.
Unfortunately, Stone just sounds as frustrated as I feel. Yep, I think I totally fucked this up. Not that it was going well to begin with, but I must have poked the beast one too many times. It’s likely that she’s now planning on how to take a huge chunk out of me as payback.
“You’re pissed, huh?” I ask, staring at my feet, not wanting to face the she-demon head-on.
I hear her let out a long, exaggerated exhale, dropping her book bag back onto her seat.
“Okay, Finn. What do you want? Out with it,” she orders instead of answering my question, placing her hands on her hips to demonstrate she’s over my shit.
“I told you. Just want to hang out.” I shrug, my feet kicking the seat in front of me.
Because if we don’t, eventually my best friends and I are likely to see daylight only through iron bars for the rest of our lives. So give a guy a break, will you?
“You said that already,” she spews, not one bit thrilled at the idea.
Fuck my life.
We are so screwed. I don’t know how to do this. How the fuck am I supposed to win over a girl like Stone when I can’t even talk right? I’m a twenty-two-year-old football god at Richfield, yet here I am, all tongue-tied and shit. Seriously, sometimes being me sucks balls. This is just too damn hard. I’ll just have to talk to the guys and see if we can go about this some other way without The Society following through on their threat. I mean, maybe Colt or Easton could take over from me. Not that I like that idea any better. Having either one of those assholes hit on Stone doesn’t sit right with me. Actually, just the idea of it pisses me off.
Shit. I’m all messed up.
What the fuck am I going to do?
My mind is still a battleground when I feel strong, deft fingers pull at the strands of my hair, tilting my head back to look into piercing, emerald eyes.
“You really do suck at this, don’t you, pretty boy?” Stone coos with a softness in her green plains that I’ve never seen before.
Damn it, she’s beautiful.
Sure, Stone might look like she would rather shiv you than kiss you, but that doesn’t take away from her natural beauty. She surely is a sight to behold. And here I am, thinking of ways to be in her life just so I can fuck it up when The Society demands it.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
She takes a beat to stare into my eyes, and I force myself to keep them wide open, all the while hoping she doesn’t read the truth behind all the lies they are silently feeding her.
Do you see how ugly I am inside, Stone?
What I’ve done?
What I will need to do because of it?
“You do that a lot, don’t you? Get lost in that head of yours? I wonder what goes on in there,” she hushes curiously, running her fingers through my wild locks, massaging my scalp to perfection.
Her tender touch feels fucking incredible. And wouldn’t you know it—my stiff shoulders start to relax, as does the rest of my body. Well, most of it. My cock didn’t get the memo advising that this isn’t some kind of foreplay, so when it swells in my jeans, I’m not the least bit surprised.
I lick my dry lips, trying to put some moisture back into them while attempting to summon something to say that won’t put me on The Society’s naughty list.
“You’re right on both accounts,” I shyly confess instead, making those light