As I walk past him, Isaiah wraps a hand
around my arm. “One more thing.” His eyes darken into shadows. “Call me. Anytime. I swear to you, I’ll answer.”
“I know.” It takes a second to work up the courage to say it, but he’s my best friend and worth the words. “Thank you.”
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“Anything for you.” Isaiah releases me,
and as I walk back to school my fingers trace the area where my skin still burns from his touch. He’s my friend…my only friend.
I pull on the handle of the same door I’d snuck out of and my heart sinks as the door stays shut. No. I broke the cardinal rule of ditching: always make sure you can sneak back in. I wiggle the handle. Nothing. I wiggle the other door’s handle. Same result. The dread sparks deep in my stomach and becomes a flash fire of panic in a heartbeat. I can’t get back in, which means I’ll be busted when I don’t show for next period. When Scott finds out, he’ll burst a blood vessel.
With both hands, I grab the handle again.
“Come on!” I yank. The door gives. A hand flies out, snatches my arm, and drags me into the building.
I glance up at my rescuer and my insides
become liquid when I see the most beautiful light brown eyes staring down at me. Ruining the moment, their owner speaks. “I’m not sure this is what your uncle meant by showing you around.”
“Damn, my life sucks,” I mutter.
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It’s Ryan. I really hate this town.
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Ryan
SKATER GIRL IS ON THE LOSING END of this moment. She snaps her arm out of my hand and glares at me with those unblinking blue eyes. “I don’t want your help.”
Winning feels great. Awesome. Drives me
higher than anything else in the world. The twisting and pressure that I so often feel— gone. Winning leaves my muscles loose,
makes me lift my head higher, and damn if it doesn’t bring on a smile. “You may not want it, but you need it.”
The second bell rings and Beth slams into my arm as she stalks past. Twenty bucks she thinks she’s late for class. “It’s only second bell.”
She hesitates and her spine goes rigid. “How many are there?”
“After lunch?” I casually walk up to her.
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This is too much fun. “Three. One to
release lunch. A two-minute warning bell.
Then the tardy bell.”
She releases a slow stream of air from her perfectly shaped lips, and relief relaxes her cheeks. This girl is sexy, but she’s also a handful. If I hadn’t accepted the dare, I’d toss her into avoid-like-the-plague territory.
“What’s your next class?”
“Go to hell.” Beth rushes down the hallway and I pursue her at a leisurely pace.
Lockers lurch open and clang shut. Chatter fills the hallway. People stop and stare as Beth moves. Moves—that’s exactly what the girl does. She holds her head high and owns the middle of the hallway. A few kids have transferred to this school since my freshman year, but they spent their first couple of weeks trying to blend into the paint. Not Beth. Her hips have this easy sway that catches the eye of every guy, including me.
Beth checks out the numbers over the doors, no doubt searching for her fifth-period room. I pick up the pace and fall in step with her as she pulls a badly folded schedule out of her back pocket. Her thumb skims the list until it finds HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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its target: Health/Physical Education.
The odds of winning just increased in my
favor. That’s my next class too. “I can show you where it is.”
“Are you stalking me? If so, you’ll get your ass kicked.”
“By who? The guy you made out with in the tree line?” I have a hard time believing that a man as great as Scott Risk would allow his niece to date Tattoo Guy, but maybe that’s why he switched her schools. You gotta love a man who takes care of family. “Sorry to tell you, but I can hold my own.”
Beth wears a scowl that could kill on sight.
“Threaten Isaiah again and I’ll kick your ass.”
I chuckle at the thought of the tiny, black-haired threat throwing swings at me. Punches from her would feel like a bunny biting a lion.
By the way she pinches her lips together, I can tell my laughter pisses her off. Time to end this bull. “I’m just trying to be helpful.”
“Helpful? You mean you’re trying to help
yourself. You’re a walking hard-on for my uncle.”
A muscle near my eye ticks. On rare
occasions, bunnies can develop rabies, and HC TITLE-AUTHOR
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Scott did warn me she was rough around
the edges. He failed to mention that razor blades are her softest layer. My mouth snaps open to ask what the hell is wrong with her when Lacy sidles between us. She shoots me a warning glare. “I got this.”
“Come on, dawg.” Chris waggles his