“Where’s the fire?” he asks, peering down at me like the brooding asshole I know him to be.
I open my mouth to snap at him for being a jerk and letting me fall, because I know he did it on purpose. Dominique’s reflexes are lightning fast, so there is zero doubt in my mind he could have prevented my fall if he’d wanted to. But before I snap at him, his gaze shifts past me to the doors, a frown marring his face and a flash of anger ignites in his eyes.
I turn, but no one is there. I wonder if he saw me talking to Deacon. If he did, does he care? Probably not. But then why would he be angry?
I shove myself to my feet, dusting my hands on the back of my jeans. “Thanks for the save,” I mock.
His attention turns back to me. “Why were you walking with Hunt?” he asks, his gaze probing.
“Who?”
“Hunt?” At my blank look he huffs. “Deacon Hunt. The guy you were talking to on your way over here. Why were you talking to him?”
“Am I not supposed to?” I ask, not bothering to answer his question as I head to my next class. I have ten minutes before it starts, but I’d rather Dominique think I don’t have time to talk at the moment. Instead of dropping it, though, he falls into step beside me, his long strides eating through the distance and instinctively making me speed up until I realize what I’m doing and force myself to slow down.
“He’s on the team,” he says and his frown deepens. He slows down once he sees I’m no longer beside him.
“Why is that a problem? You, Roman, and Emilio are all on the team too.”
We walk in silence together for several minutes before he finally says, “It’s not the same.”
I bark out a laugh. “I’m sorry. How exactly is it different?”
He glowers down at me, but I refuse to be affected.
“You know what jocks are like. They’re not better in college than they were in high school. They’re worse.”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, I’m well aware. I have three guy friends who are damn near football gods with a well-established reputation for being man-whoring assholes. Luckily, two met the girls of their dreams and have since been reformed, the third…” I make a show of thinking it over, tapping my finger against my lower lip. “The third is still up to his asshole man-whoring ways. It’s sad, actually. He’s a bit of a lost cause.”
Dominique’s gaze sharpens. “I’m not a man-whore.”
I snort. “At least you don’t deny you’re an asshole.”
His teeth grind together. I struck a nerve with that one.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“Ding. Ding. Ding. You are one hundred percent right.”
His eyes widen the smallest amount, but it’s enough to relay his surprise at my words. Oh, he made this too easy and doesn’t even realize it yet.
“And I should respect that. So, I will. And since you brought it up, you must also know that I don’t need to explain myself to you, either.” I grin, my smile widening the darker and more hooded his expression gets.
I know Mom always said you should never poke a bear, but I don’t think she realized just how much fun it could be.
A growly sound rumbles deep in his chest.
“He’s a player.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Cool. I don’t really care.”
“You don’t.”
I roll my eyes. “Why would I?” I’ve already decided I’m not dating the guy, so it’s a non-issue.
Dominique goes quiet again before he barks out a mocking laugh. Shaking his head, his mouth curls into a cruel smile, the one he seems to wear more and more whenever I’m around. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”
I frown. “Surprised by what?” I ask and then kick myself for being so damn predictable. The smart move would have been to ignore his comment. Not to play right into his hands.
His eyes burn with thinly veiled hostility. “That you’ve become like every other chick on campus. Both stupid and shallow if you’re willing to date a known player to gain a little bit of popularity.” He shakes his head as though I’ve somehow disappointed him. “I thought you were better than that.” He shrugs. “Guess I was wrong.”
I ignore his stab, but then he decides to cut a little deeper. “I give you a month. Maybe two before he cheats.” His gaze rakes over me, but there isn’t a hint of desire in his eyes as they travel over my body. Instead, they hold mock pity and disgust. “On second thought, just the one. He’ll lose interest before you hit the second.”
My cheeks heat and I know he can see the blush climbing up my neck.
“Fuck you.” My words shake as I clench my hands into tight fists at my side. Why did that hurt so much?
He grunts. “Pass.”
Fury spikes my bloodstream, my anger and humiliation at his words filling me like a vicious, violent wave. I don’t even realize what’s happening until it’s done. One second I’m about to storm off and the next, my fist is flying, connecting with his jaw, but only enough to graze it because dammit, he’s too fucking tall.
The next thing I know Dominique is shoving me into an empty classroom. The door closes behind us and he locks it before pressing me back into the nearest wall. I suck in a breath and Dominique lifts both arms on either side of me, caging me in with his bulk. “That was an incredibly stupid thing to do.” I don’t miss the threat in his voice, but I absolutely choose to ignore it.
I fist both hands in the fabric of his shirt and shove him with all of my strength, but it’s like trying to move a mountain. “I always knew you were a jerk. But I never knew you were this cruel.”
“It can’t be considered cruelty if it’s the truth.”
Tears sting the backs of my eyes before I blink them away. “Never let them see you cry, sweetheart,” Mom used to tell me. When Dad left her and filed for divorce, it was the lowest I’d ever seen her, but she never did let him see her cry. She was strong. And she raised me to be strong too. I refuse to break down and cry in front of Dominique all because what? He hurt my feelings? Fuck that. His opinion means nothing to me.
“Well, thanks for clearing that up.” My lower lip trembles until I sink my teeth into it, using the pain as an anchor.
Dominique is silent as he stares down his nose at me, eyes devoid of emotion.
“I fucking hate you,” I tell him.
Zero reaction.
“You said your piece. Told me I’m stupid and shallow and can’t hold a guy’s attention. Is there anything else you need to get off your chest? I have a class to get to, and this right here,” I wave my arm between us, “is a waste of my time.”
His gaze latches onto my arm.
With surprising speed and gentle hands he lifts my arm up, bringing it closer to his face like he’s looking for—
I mutter out a curse seeing what caught his attention. Light bruises in the shape of fingers wrap around my forearm. Shit.
Dominique’s expression goes from blank to murderous as he grinds out his next words. “Who touched you?” His already dark brown eyes turn even darker, sending a shiver down my spine.
I don’t answer him.
“I’m not going to ask again, Kasey. Who. Fucking. Touched. You?”
