I already know my body’s instinctual reaction to him is going to be trouble. Judging from the state of my underwear, my hormones don’t seem to care that he’s no good for me. He’s hotter than hell, and despite his attitude toward me today, I’m still as ridiculously attracted to him as I was the day we met. Hell, he’d pinned me to a wall and pressed his steel erection against my belly. It’d been like some sort of bizarre claiming beyond my understanding. It was like he’d said, Be careful with Justin, but don’t worry if I rub my dick up on you.
When I don’t immediately start talking, Aunt Liz tilts her head and asks, “Well? How was your first day? Was it everything you’d hoped for?”
I press my lips together. “I’m going to reserve judgment for a while.”
Her brows raise in interest, and if I’m not mistaken, a hint of concern.
“I just mean I’ve only attended half of my classes and cross-country hasn’t even started yet.” I shrug, knowing I won’t say a word about Xander. “You know how it is. I’m sure it’ll all be fine.”
“Did you meet anyone? New friends? Any cute boys?” She slides me a wink.
I bob my head a few times. “A couple of kids showed me around today and they promised they’d help me out tomorrow with my even-day classes. And we had lunch together.” And I felt this really hot guy’s hard-on, and I think I liked it, but it doesn’t matter because he’s obviously not who I thought he was when we first met. My face colors, and I hope Aunt Liz isn’t paying attention.
“Could you grate some cheese for our salads?” She passes a cutting board with a block of cheese and a grater on it over to me. “Which kids? Maybe I know the families?”
That’s Aunt Liz code for she’s going to check into whoever I’m hanging out with in an attempt to be the parent I need. It’s a shame she can’t help me where I really need it, but there’s no way in hell I’m telling her about Xander and his personality one-eighty.
I nod and pick up the cheese to start grating. “Max Sutton and Daphne Davis. They were really nice. I have English 12 and Precalculus with Max, and AP US Government and an art class with Daphne.”
“Hm. I don’t think I know Max. Daphne is Naomi and Ben’s daughter. She’s super smart—I think she has an academic scholarship.”
“Yeah, she’s quiet, but she seems pretty on top of things.” I clear my throat. “So, the cliques were everything you said they would be. I even heard some of the “Roses and Thorns” talk you told me about. It was like I was trapped in an alternate universe.” I laugh.
She smiles with her teeth clamped tightly together. “Yeah, I warned you about that.”
I hold up a hand, shaking my head. “It’s okay. I’m just going to mind my own business.”
And I’m definitely not telling you that the hazing of the new girl has already begun. She’d be down to the school so fast it’s not funny if I were to tell her about my lubed-up locker or getting yanked into the boys’ bathroom.
“Good plan, sweetie. I knew you were a smart one. Sounds like you’re going to be just fine there.” She grins at me with a wink, but it’s almost like she’s trying to convince herself.
Whether or not I’ll be fine at Rosehaven Academy remains to be seen, but I refuse to let anyone run me off, that’s for damn sure.
After dinner, I make my way up to my room, deciding I just need to chill for a little while. Today was mentally exhausting. I flop down on my bed and open my Insta account. I scroll mindlessly through pretty photos for a little bit, but I don’t follow very many people, so I quickly lose interest.
When the thought to search for Xander pops into my head, I debate with myself for a whopping five seconds. What could it hurt to just take a peek? I tap his name into the search bar, and sure enough, he has an account. As I poke around, I see it’s mostly images of Xander, Beau, and Micah hanging out, and if I scroll back farther, photos from football games the previous year. I see numerous kids I was introduced to earlier today, although I can’t remember most of their names.
I stop on one particularly good pic of Xander in his football uniform. His back is to the camera, hands on his hips, and he’s looking off into the distance. Fucking hot is what it is.
I don’t know if it happens out of reflex or what, but my thumb taps the little heart icon. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I didn’t mean to do that. I tap it again to undo the action, squeezing my eyes shut.
After a minute of self-castigation, I set my phone down on my nightstand and hurry into the bathroom to wash my face. That’s enough screwing around for Scarlett today. How dumb was that?
I freeze, soap still covering my face, when I hear my phone vibrate on the nightstand. No. Noooo. Rinsing, I have an internal freak out before I rush back over. I perch on the edge of my bed and pick my phone up gingerly like it’s a snake that could dart out and bite at any second.
I don’t see anything on Xander’s account, which is where I’d stopped scrolling, but then I notice I have a message waiting. Oh, shit.
XanderG: Don’t think I didn’t see that.
What do I say? I totally just got caught scoping out his account. I’m such an idiot.
Me: I tapped it by accident.
XanderG: Mm-hmm. And what were you doing looking at my photo?
Me: We have mutual friends.
XanderG: It’s an old pic, Red. Wouldn’t have been in your feed. Nice try, though.
XanderG: It’s okay to admit you like what you see.
XanderG: And what you felt.
Me: Shut up.
It’s stupid and childish, but in the heat of the moment, I couldn’t think of anything else to say. He’s right on all accounts. Too bad the asshole has to come in such enticing packaging.
XanderG: I can think of a few different ways you could make my mouth shut up. We’ll try those next time.
I’m too pissed at myself to respond. Ugh, Scarlett. Just had to go and give him ammunition, didn’t you?
Chapter 8
I must have fallen asleep not long after I banned myself from looking at any more Instagram. I still can’t believe I liked Xander’s photo. So freaking stupid.
The worst part is that I hardly know the guy, but he’d still robbed me of a restful sleep. I’d had multiple dreams about him, which is ridiculous.
At first, my sleeping mind had me sitting in a classroom, sensing that he was behind me—that’s it. But talk about driving my anxiety to new heights. Each time I’d woken up, I’d slipped right back into the same damn dream.
Around three in the morning, I’d finally gotten up to pee, only to be thrown into a different, infinitely more dangerous dream. Me, trapped between the wall and Xander’s chest, caged in by his arms. But instead of stopping when I tell him I have to go, he runs his hands under my shirt to touch my breasts, lifting me into his arms. And then my traitorous legs wrap willingly around his waist, and he dry humps me until I come.
And the most annoying, aggravating, embarrassing part is I’d woken up this morning with my hand down my panties, my body riding out the high of an orgasm.