I’M FUCKING PISSED.
She really thinks she can pretend she’s never met me? Never spent the night with me? That I wasn’t the one who made her come with my fingers buried in her sweet, tight cunt on the balcony at the Palais Garnier?
Who the fuck does this girl think she is?
There is no thinking. She knows exactly who she is. Carolina Lancaster has power and influence at this school, but only because of her name.
Me? I earned the power and influence I have. Look at what just happened. With only a few choice words, I got TJ to shut the hell up. I don’t need him to reveal anything else about me and Carolina. That’s private.
The fact that she pretends I don’t exist—that she pretends she doesn’t even know who I am—that burns my ass, not that I’d ever admit it. Clearly, she doesn’t actually know me. Doesn’t know who she’s playing with. Doesn’t understand what she’s doing, or how she’s committing social suicide with her words and behavior.
This girl. I thought what we shared was something special, and how fucking sappy do I sound, even in my own thoughts? Well, forget it.
Forget her.
Carolina has made a colossal mistake, crossing me. She thinks she can get away with this?
I’ll show her.
Eventually she leaves the table, all by herself. The moment she’s gone, Mercedes is talking trash, the little bitch, and I wait for a few seconds.
Then I’m pushing away from the table as well, abandoning them without a word. No one follows me, not even my friends, and not a single one of them call out to me either, though I’m sure they’re curious.
I’d bet money Mercedes wishes she followed after me.
I exit the dining hall and immediately spot Carolina’s blonde hair. She’s heading toward the building where her housing is located.
Fucking Lancasters are so special, they don’t have to stay in the dorm buildings like the rest of us peons do.
I slow my steps, still following her, but keeping my distance when she comes to a stop, slowly turning so she’s facing me. I don’t move. There’s no point and I don’t give a damn if she sees me or not.
I’m not going to hide that I followed her, though I’m just as baffled over it as she looks. I don’t know why she bothers me so damn much. Or why I care.
“Why are you following me?” Her sweet, clear voice rings in the air and I glance around, noting we’re the only ones out here.
“Why are you hanging out with my friends?”
She lifts her chin, haughty as ever. “They’re my friends too.”
I want to scoff. I want to tell her she’s delusional because not a single soul at that table gives a damn about her.
Fuck it.
“They’re not your friends. You don’t even know them. Mercedes talked shit about you the moment you left the table.”
Carolina blinks, the shock on her face there and gone in an instant. “You’re just saying that.”
“Why would I just say that?”
“Because you’re trying to hurt me, that’s why.” She turns her back on me and starts walking.
And like a fucking idiot, I follow after her, striding into the building and trailing behind her in the hall as she stomps her way toward her room. “Why would I bother trying to hurt you?”
“I don’t know,” she tosses over her shoulder, never slowing her pace. “Maybe because I ignored you and it makes you crazy? Just because we shared one night together, West, doesn’t mean that you matter to me. Because you don’t.”
I’m on her in a second, my fingers curling around her slender arm, forcing her to face me. She tilts her head back, our gazes meeting, hers the color of the deep blue sea. Look a little closer and I can see the turbulence there. The storm is raging within those eyes, and I know why.
It’s because of me.
“You don’t matter to me either,” I murmur. “Go ahead and ignore me all you want. I don’t give a damn what you think about me, or how you feel.”
Her eyes narrow, that haughty expression on her beautiful face twisting my insides.
Fuck, I hate that I’m attracted to her. I’d enjoy nothing more than pushing her against the wall and kissing that shitty look off her face. Biting at her lips, licking at her tongue, gripping her tits in my hands, knowing all along she would be just as aroused as I am.
She’d get off on me being rough. Treating her like nothing. Scaring her. She likes it that way.
Carolina Lancaster is attracted to me, and she hates it just as much as I hate my attraction to her.
“You’re the one who followed me in here.” Her voice is soft. Breathless.
My gaze drops to her chest, noting how it rapidly rises and falls. She’s wearing the required white shirt with a navy sweater vest over it, and she must be hot as shit. How can she stand it?
“We need to make a few things clear.” I step closer, my body brushing against hers and she parts her lips, a soft exhale leaving her. “Stay away from my friends.”
She tilts her head back, her eyes blazing. “Make me.”
Irritation floods my veins, along with a healthy dose of arousal. This girl …
Is purposely trying to make me hate her.
And it’s working.
“Don’t be stupid.” I shift even closer, my leg sliding between both of hers, and I lift my knee, brushing it against the inside of her thighs. “I’ll make your life a living hell, if that’s what you want.”
“You already have,” she whispers.
“Right back at you, babe.” I curl my fingers around her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. “You know what frustrates me?”
Carolina remains quiet, her entire body trembling, and I see it flicker in her gaze.
Desire.
“I can’t stop thinking about that night. The sounds you made. How wet you were. So tight, your pussy gripping my fingers like a vise.”
“Shut up.” Her cheeks turn pink and she tries to pull out of my grip, but I don’t let her, my fingers tightening.
“You hate the fact that I’m the one who made you come, don’t you?” I chuckle, though the sound lacks any humor.
“It’s all Gideon’s fault,” she spits out, and now I really do want to laugh. “He should’ve never let you get into that cab with us.”
I let go of her face, pressing my cheek against hers so I can whisper in her ear. “I don’t remember you complaining when you slipped that mint into my mouth with your tongue.”
She shoves at my chest with all of her might and I stumble back, shocked at her strength, though I shouldn’t be. I know she’s made of nothing but pure muscle.
“You’re a dick.”
“Sad you didn’t get to sample it?” I grab at my junk for emphasis like the asshole that I am.
Carolina barks out a laugh. “God, you’re disgusting.”
“You love it, babe.”
“I hate you.” Her voice trembles, and for a split second, I feel bad. Because that’s fear I hear in her voice.
Is she scared someone will find out what we did?
Or is she scared of me?
Cruel, I know, but I hope she is scared of me. Because …
She should be.
