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JESS
“AAAAAAH!” I scream at the top of my lungs, loud enough to rattle glass and probably kill birds mid–flight.
Logan nearly jumps out of his skin beside me. “Shit, Jess–what the hell?”
“It’s our fucking break,” I snap, dragging both hands down my face like it’ll peel the memory off. “Where the fuck is our teacher? I’m about to lose my mind.”
He raises a brow. “You mean more than usual?”
don’t answer. Because the truth is: I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. Not with him in my head. In my blood. In every inch of my skin.
I clenched my thighs three times this morning in the shower and nearly cried from how wrong it felt.
“You good?” Logan asks again.
I blink at him. No. I’m not good. I’m not even close to good. But I can’t say that.
I can’t say that Grayson Westwood broke into my room last night and told me I was his.
“I’m fine,” I mutter. “Just tired.”
Logan studies me. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Worse.
I saw the monster in the woods and he saw me.
The bell rings. I shoot out of my seat so fast I nearly knock the chair over. Logan grabs his bag and follows, jogging to catch up as I storm into the hallway like movement might erase the last twelve hours.
The halls are crowded. Loud. Smelling like sweat, wet grass, and too much cheap cologne.
No Grayson.
Good.
I don’t want to see his face. I really, really don’t.
“Are we going to the caf?” Logan asks.
“No.”
He blinks. “Cool. Love that. Super specific.”
I don’t answer. I just keep walking–fast, aimless, heart pounding like I’m late for something I don’t even want to show up
- to.
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“You wanna sit outside for a bit?” he tries again.
“I said no.”
It comes out too sharp. Like a slap. I wince and don’t look at him.
He falls silent for a second. Then-
“…Hey. Can I ask something?”
grunt. “Does it come with fries?”
He snarts. “Serious question.”
“Wow, rare.”
“Why is Grayson walking in our direction?”
1 stop
Like–physically freeze in the middle of the hall. One foot in the air. Mid–step.
“What?”
Logan points ahead like we’re in a goddamn zoo exhibit. “Right there. Past the chem lab. He’s–oh yeah, he’s definitely looking at you.”
No.
No no no.
I don’t want to look.
I really don’t.
But I do.
And he’s not where Logan pointed.
Because by the time my eyes lock forward, Grayson Westwood is no longer twenty feet away.
He’s right in front of me. Towering. Massive. Quiet. Probably pissed as hell, too–since I kicked him square in the balls last night right after he whispered those disgusting words in my ear like he owned me.
Mine.
The word echoes in my skull like a bruise I can’t scrub out.
And yet, my stupid body still remembers the heat of his chest, the pressure of his thigh, the sound of his voice–low, dark, dangerous.
I clench my jaw, but my breath betrays me. It stutters.
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Logan shifts beside me. “Uh… Jess?”
I can’t answer. I can barely breathe.
“Are you going to lunch?”
The hallway noise drops out. It’s like everyone heard the only Grayson asking if I’m going to lunch. Shit. Shit. I need to get out of here.
It was Logan who answers him. ” Yes, Alpha! Do you want to come with us?”
Us.
I nearly choke.
Logan turns to me, smiling like he just did something helpful. I widen my eyes–warning him. Screaming at him silently to shut the fuck up. To not do this.
But the asshole can’t read a room to save his life.
Or mine.
Logan grins. “We were gonna hit the cafeteria–unless, you know, you’ve got Alpha stuff to do.”
I want the ground to swallow me whole. Hell, I’d dig the grave myself if it meant getting out of this moment. I don’t look at Grayson, but I feel him shift. Just slightly.
The air pressure around me changes, like a storm dropping in all at once. “No,” he says, finally. “I don’t have anything Alpha to do.”
Logan laughs awkwardly. “Cool, man. Come on, then.”
Cool, man.
I swear to the fucking moon goddess, I will murder him in his sleep.
Grayson takes a step forward.
Just one.
But it’s enough to make every nerve in my body snap tight like pulled wire. My lungs forget how to function. My legs forget whose side they’re on.
I finally look at him.
And he’s already looking at me.
Me.
“Is it okay with you, Jess?”
I blink H–Huh?”
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There’s a small curve on his lips. Almost a smile. “If I come to lunch with you?”
What.
The fuck.
W–Why is he asking?
Logan makes some kind of awkward, throaty noise beside me and I will probably do the same thing. “Uh, I mean–you’re welcome, obviously. I was just offering, didn’t mean to–uh–speak for her.”
Grayson’s eyes don’t leave mine. He’s waiting for me to say yes. My mouth opens. Nothing comes out. Because what the hell do I say? Yes? No? Help?
Logan bumps his elbow into mine–light, awkward, too casual–and I snap my mouth shut so fast my teeth click.
“Uhm… okay,” I mutter. It doesn’t sound like me. It doesn’t sound like anything at all. Then I grab Logan’s arm–hard–and start walking. Fast. On instinct. Like if I don’t move right now, I’m going to start screaming.
I glance over my shoulder, and saw him lazily nodding his head before he slides his two massive hands into the pockets of his dark jeans like he’s got nowhere in the world to be but here. Following us. Following me.
Oh, dear moon goddess!
Apparently, I am not the only one noticing him. Head turns in our direction and everyone is talking. A couple of girls actually giggle as he passes–which made me roll my eyes.
Logan chuckles under his breath, oblivious. “Huh. I think he actually is coming to lunch.”
No shit, Logan.
Really top–tier observation skills there.
After a few minutes, we make it into the lunch line, Grayson still right behind me. My heart is hammering against my ribs, beating so fast it’s probably bruising something in there. He still hasn’t spoken–not one single word since we left the hallway.
I glance around, trying to pretend everything’s fine. It’s not. Because every single set of eyes in this entire cafeteria is locked onto us. What the hell does he think he’s doing?
If this is another one of his sick little mind games, I swear to the goddess–I’ll rip his throat out. Nicely. In public. I am dreaming of ways to kill Grayson when I felt his rough palm touching the small arch in my back.
My head whips in his direction so fast my neck nearly cracks. “W–What…are you doing?”
I look away immediately because I can feel it–the throb between my thighs, violent and embarrassing and impossible to ignore. Shit. Shit. Shit. Why the hell did I suddenly feel so hot right now? Why did his hand on my back feel like it was burning straight through my spine?
“I was calling your name.” His voice is so low, so casual, like he doesn’t have his entire damn palm on my lower back in front of the whole school. Grayson’s fingers flex. Flex. And then they spread just slightly–just enough to make me feel him
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even more. “I was asking what food you want.”
That’s when I hear it–Logan choking. I turn just in time to see his jaw practically on the floor.
Grayson however is still busy talking to me. “I know you like those little baked potatoes,” he murmurs, dragging his thumb slightly across my spine–barely there, but I jolt anyway. “The ones with sour cream, right?”
“This is your favorite, isn’t it?”
It is.
I want to scream. I want to smack him, bite him, throttle him and ask if what the hell is wrong with him but all I manage is a breathless, stuttering, traitorous answer.
“Y–Yeah…”
Grayson nodded. Then, he inches closer to me, his eyes dropping to my lips for a second making me suck in breath. ” Good girl.”
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