She was talking with Kate Mental note: Kate needed a new nickname. Queen was taken, and not by her anymore.) and Luna when I walked up behind her, bending down to whisper in her ear.
“My room. Let's go.”
I wasn’t pleasant or even asking her. I was demanding and brooding at all my edges, but it was who I was and Arianna didn't expect something different from me.
I was going to be a king regardless if I was her king.
She didn't even bother turning around, only twisting her neck in my direction.
“I'm being here for Luna right now. Want me to find you when I'm done?”
She just snubbed me in front of the girls and whatever gaze ended up on us.
She told me to wait like a dog who needed to learn patience before getting the treat.
Every part of me was set on fire, and my hormones with it.
“Nah. Do your whole girl power moment. I'll find someone else.”
She didn't even seem insulted as I walked away, only letting myself steal a quick glance behind me to see her reaction.
I knew I was fucked.
I knew she was going to be the death of me.
I knew with or without my consent she officially just crowned herself my queen.
There were plenty of girls to invite back to my room. Suddenly my narrow taste wasn't interested in anyone that didn't have purple hair. It was like a ton of bricks hitting only my heart and missing all other vital organs. One should have hit my head so we could all be on the page.
Girls flirted with me, only the brave ones; the shy and meek needed not apply. Those quiet girls were afraid of us; the group was intimidating. If we’re honest, they knew we were out of their league.
None had what Arianna did.
I felt trapped by my new-found devotion to Arianna. It was narrowing my already narrow sight and attitude.
There was only one girl I used for sex, Whitney, who we had been repeating senior year with for longer than I cared to think about. Every year we started over, and every year she forgot me. Her attraction was unwavering though.
I knew I wasn't going to let our flirting get out of hand; I was making a point to Arianna. The point was for her to realize that me being king meant that I put zero effort into hookups, which also had the desired outcome of jealousy.
Whitney was giggling into her Solo cup that I stopped her from sipping as I pushed her hair back behind her ear. I whispered bullshit.
I wasn't trying, and she was still swooning over my voice. We were in eye shot if she turned around. I'm sure Kate would point it out, after all she was “Queen Bitch” until I dethroned her.
Whitney’s hand landed on my chest, and she pushed her ass off the wall towards my body.
See? Brave.
Arianna’s head snapped in our direction, and she quickly came over to where we were standing. I had to bite back a victorious smirk. I made sure my face looked bored with her antics and interruption.
I leaned against the wall firmly against Whitney folding my arms and dragging my eyeline up to hers. She didn't even look at me, only Whitney, when she spoke.
“Hi, I'm Arianna, I don't think we've met.”
Whitney looked confused with her own transition from aroused to now scared of the girl in front of her. My ripped up soul tried not to enjoy this. Whitney pushed out a shaky hand and introduced herself.
“Now that we know each other, I just wanted to make sure you didn't forget who I was.” There was a silence between her thoughts, probably for effect. “You see, we aren't in threesomes, so your services aren't needed any longer.”
She stood there, regal, even though her words sounded filthy. I pushed my lips together, looked at Whitney without remorse to our quick death, and waited for her to leave without Arianna really driving it home.
The disapproving sigh was hard to ignore. I almost thought she'd stomp like a child too before walking away.
Shifting my body flat against the wall I looked at Arianna, waiting for her to make the first move. Arms still folded against me and still perpetually bored, I had no problem waiting for my explanation.
“I don't kiss and share.”
I popped an eyebrow. “Don’t you mean kiss and tell?”
She pushed my shoulder harder than I expected as her eyebrows got tense. “No, kiss and share. I’m not sharing. Period. It's me and only me, or you can run after Whitney.”
I didn't dare move an inch, not even to breathe in a full breath. I wasn't giving her any reason to think Whitney mattered at all. I licked my lips trying to find the right words that didn't make me feel pussy whipped.
“Okay, no kissing and sharing. For your information, that was a lesson in waiting. I don't do that. Guess we both have hard limits.”
I pushed myself off the wall and expected her to follow. I could feel her eyes roll behind me. She was truly an equal, never bowing down to anyone, not even me.
Arianna
Bolton had a roadmap to all my weak spots.
Weak spot number one: sharing.
Weak spot number two: proving him wrong about me.
Weak spot number three: thinking he hated me, but I'm smarter than that.
I could see how he thought he was sneaking those stares from across the room. Little did he know that I had been staring the whole time, trying to figure him out;, no move went unnoticed.
Not much came of me basically stalking Bolton with my eyes. I learned he was quiet, calculated, and every other trait I could think of that basically drew a thick red line back to psychopaths. Yet, I found myself following him back to his room.
It screamed adventure, and I was in a desperate need of one.
His room was painted black; it wasn’t a typical kind of dark that seemed endless or camouflaged space. This midnight kind of black was angry.
His room was a literal mess—clothes thrown around, his desk didn't have enough space for it to be used as an actual desk, and his bed wasn't even made.
I pinched my eyes closed just looking at it, I could feel my military dad reacting. I wasn't a neat freak, but when you grow up as an army brat you are conditioned to not have many possessions and you make your bed according to military standards.
He sank onto his bed, that's how plush it seemed. I awkwardly stood in the middle of his room, waiting for his brash commands.
“Shy all of a sudden?”
His arm was behind his head, and his hoodie raised slightly, allowing me a peek at his ivory skin at his waist. It gave me chills that crept up my spine.
I had seen guys shirtless. Hell, I wasn't even a virgin, but looking at Bolton felt dangerous.
This trepidation was a sendoff to the most epic adventure I'd have yet.
“Shy? Me? I'm the opposite of shy.”
He sat up, swinging his legs off the edge of his bed, and my heart started to beat slightly faster. He was unpredictable in every way. I was glued to his movements when I watched him tug at his hoodie until it was off.
His shirt got tugged up in the process, and he didn't bother to hold it down or keep it on him at all. His exposed, defined chest almost glowed in the dim lighting. Every muscle was on display, creating hills and valleys I was lost in.
I could see the ram’s horns, which he insisted was certain was a birthmark, and almost every blue vein under his translucent skin.
He wasn't a king. He was a god above other men—one I was about to worship and apologize for later.