by Leila James
My head snaps up and to the side. “Excuse me?”
Apparently, I’d been louder than I thought because Ms. Murphy glances up from her desk, a small scowl on her face. “Everything okay over there?”
My gaze swings to hers and just as my mouth drops open to answer, Xander responds, “I’m just helping Scarlett a bit, if that’s okay?” He aims a winning smile in her direction.
Her expression softens. “Well, that’s certainly kind of you, Xander.”
“It’s no problem at all. I’m already done with my work.”
My gaze shifts to his notebook. Well, hell. That was unexpected. Each problem is thoroughly worked through and answered.
He edges his seat closer to mine, as if he’s helping me.
“I’m just fine on my own,” I mutter.
“You sure? Your face is all red.” He lightly traces his finger over my forearm. “Your skin tone provides a dead giveaway the second you’re even the slightest bit flustered.” He lowers his voice and leans in closer to my ear. “Or turned on.”
I scoot my chair away. “Whatever.” I do my best to refocus on what I’m working on, but his eyes on me accelerate my heart rate and make my palms sweat.
“It’s fucking adorable.”
I glance back at him and roll my eyes. I do not understand this guy’s angle. Not at all. One minute, he’s like a psychopath, poking at me like I’m some wounded animal he can mess around with at his whim. Then, he’s supposedly trying to protect me from someone who has been nothing but nice to me. For the final act, he’s outright flirting with me. I can’t decide which version of him is the worst, actually.
He’s making my head spin and setting me way off balance when I need to be focused.
And the biggest question I have is still why me? Why is all of this weird energy directed at me? Why is he bothering? What does he care that I’m here or what I do or who I talk to?
Chapter 9
By some miracle, I make it through the rest of the day unscathed, and since cross-country practice doesn’t officially start until tomorrow afternoon, I drive directly to the ice cream shop I’d seen in town with the Help Needed sign in the window.
I pull into one of the parking spaces out front and head inside to inquire about applying for a job. I know my aunt and uncle said the whole job thing is up to me, that I don’t have to work while trying to navigate a new school this semester, but I’ve always found the busier I am, the better I do. Not to mention, it will keep my mind from dwelling too much on the mess my life has become.
An older man of about sixty sits behind the counter on a stool. He has a full head of gray hair and a smile that makes the skin at the sides of his eyes crinkle. When I enter, he stands and waves. “What can I do for you today?”
Sucking in a breath, I return his smile, and on my exhale blurt out, “Are you still hiring? I need a job.”
He nods. “We sure are. I’m Terry. My wife and I own this shop. What’s your name?”
“Scarlett Miller.” I wrinkle my nose. “I saw the sign outside. It’s Terry and Teri, huh?”
“Yep. Pretty funny, right?” He chuckles and shoots me a wink. “You’ll meet her eventually. She’s here on the weekends, mostly. Where are you coming to us from?”
“I just moved from Rykersville. I’d be interested in as many hours as you can give me, provided I can work around my practice schedule—I’m going to be running cross-country for Rosehaven.”
He comes around the counter, hands folded together in front of him. “Well, I’m looking for someone Tuesdays and Thursdays for now—possibly a few hours here and there on weekends. Would that work for your schedule?”
“Would you be willing to have me come in after practices? Like around six? And I’d be more flexible on weekends, unless we have a meet.”
“I think that should be fine, actually. It’s the after-dinner crowd during the week that I need the most help with.”
I cock my head to the side. “I’d like to take the job, if you’re offering.”
After Terry and I get paperwork straightened out, he asks if I can stay so he can give me the rundown on what I’ll be doing—I assume a whole lot of ice cream scooping—and how the cash register works. Then when the girl I’m replacing doesn’t show up, I stay to give my new employer a hand. That’s the sort of thing responsible, trustworthy employees do, right?
That’s how I find myself working the counter at Teri & Terry’s Ice Cream when a whole group of students from Rosehaven walk in later that evening.
The first thing that strikes me when this crowd rolls in is that each person’s individual style comes out when they don’t have to wear uniforms. I’ve found the academy has fairly strict rules about our uniforms, though students do get away with certain things like their choice of footwear or occasionally leaving their ties loose.
The girls enter the shop talking animatedly and laughing. When they see me behind the counter, there is a brief pause that leads to even more laughter, and I roll my eyes, bracing myself. I soon realize I’ve been right to be on guard. Several members of the football team come in right behind the girls. They’re too busy shoving each other and cracking jokes to notice me at first. I take a few seconds to scan the crowd and think I’m in the clear until the bell above the door jingles again. Like a dark storm, Micah, Beau, and Xander blow in, the sight of them practically bowling me over. The other guys seem pretty normal, but those three present a formidable presence, dominating the entire room. I don’t know if it’s their looks, builds, or personalities, but everyone, it would seem, holds them in awe. Like a united front personified, the way these guys command attention is almost scary.
I shake my head, muttering under my breath about how lucky I am they’ve all come in on my first day.
Something fiery and hot snakes its way through my veins. I look up to find Xander watching my every move, a look of amused interest on his face.
Well, it’s not like I was going to be able to hide. I do my best to shrug off the feeling and concentrate on serving customers as they place their orders.
Terry comes out from the back to help me when he hears the commotion, thank goodness. Within about fifteen minutes, the majority of my peers have an ice cream in hand and have either exited the shop to sit on the little benches out front or are hanging out at the tables inside to eat. The noise level has gone up exponentially with their sugar consumption.
With only a few people left to serve, Terry asks, “You okay for me to go in the back? I’ve got some inventory to do.” He raises a brow at me, then glances around the shop full of teenagers.
“Oh. Um, yeah, I’m good. Go ahead. I can always call if I need help, right?”
“Sure thing.”
It’s unfortunate for me that the only people I would really love to not serve on my own are still in line. I want Terry to stay, but I don’t want him to think that I can’t handle myself. Ugh.
Finally, the only remaining customers are Aria, Beau, Micah, and of course, Xander. They step up to the counter, checking out the ice cream freezer. Xander’s gaze connects with mine, and he points at Aria. “I’ve got hers.”
My brow wrinkles, but I nod my understanding. Interesting. I’ve watched their interactions for two full days now and can’t honestly tell what their deal is. With a shrug, I focus on Beau and Micah who hover at the counter, stooping down to look at their options, pointing out flavors to each other as if they were five years old. But hey, big dudes are still allowed to like ice cream. Fortunately, once they’ve decided, theirs are easy orders. Ice cream cones in hand, they move away to go hang out with other friends.
Xander, on the other hand, watches me fidget behind the counter. His gaze lands on the sample spoons that sit in a container. “Can I have a sample of the coconut?”
I press my lips together and, without a word, take one of the little pink spoons and scrape out a bite of the coconut for him. I hand it across the counter and wait patiently.
He takes his time, s
avoring the ice cream on that tiny spoon, rolling his tongue over it to lick it clean. He pretends to ponder for a second before he asks, “How about the chocolate vanilla caramel?”
“Sure.” I repeat the process and wait again, my gloved hands clasped together. The way he moves his mouth should be illegal. My eyes are glued to it.
Aria rolls her eyes and shoves him. “I’ll just have the vanilla bean. In a small cup, please.”
I scoop it for her, stick a spoon in it, and she moves away, rejoining her fellow cheerleaders.
That leaves me with Xander, who’s finished his second sample. He puts the spoons in the little trash can on the counter. “I want a sample of the chocolate marshmallow creme.”
I raise one brow, skeptical that he actually wants to sample all of these. He’s totally fucking with me at this point, but what am I supposed to do? Call him on it? Make a scene on my first day here? It’s the same damn reason I hadn’t said anything about him touching me in Precalculus or gone home and spilled about the scene in the bathroom. I don’t want the extra attention, don’t want anything to happen that will get back to my aunt and uncle and give them more of a headache than I’ve already imposed on them. If he gets off on messing with me, so be it. Dick.
I sigh deeply as I watch him consider another option.
“What? You have somewhere else to be, Red?”
“Nope. Take your time. I’m at your service.”
“You’re finally beginning to get how this works.”
I nod my head and wet my lips, my eyes casting down until he speaks again.
“I’ll take a regular cone of that last one I tried.” He winks at me. Dickhead.
I scoop it out for him and hand it over, strip off my gloves, and ring up his cone and Aria’s cup of ice cream. “A regular cone for you, a small cup for your girl.”
He chuckles.
I have no idea what that means, but he doesn’t deny what I’ve said, so I can only assume it’s the truth. I hand him his change, and he dumps it in the tip jar, then reaches into his pocket and adds a twenty-dollar bill. My eyes widen in shock and slowly drift up to meet his.
I blink a few times and stare at him. Finally, my brain starts working again, and I murmur, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He winks at me again. While my eyes are still scanning his face and I’m wondering what on earth he’s thinking, his tongue slowly comes out for a lick. He watches me over the mound of ice cream, and I swear he devours it in the most sensual way I’ve ever seen. He’s making me think about things I definitely shouldn’t. But I can’t tear my eyes away. As I continue to watch, my lips part, and the visual he’s providing becomes even more crude. The things he’s doing with that tongue of his, oh my God.
Xander flashes a wolfish grin. “Are you jealous of my ice cream cone, Red? Your cheeks are turning the most amazing shade of pink. Like I said in class today—must be that pale-as-fuck skin of yours.”
I’m so overwhelmed by his words I think my heart is going to hammer right out of my chest. He’s so goddamn sexy, I swear I’m going to melt like one of these ice cream cones on a hot day. And I hate myself for feeling that way. But I do.
He leans toward me and beckons with his free hand for me to lean closer. His force is almost magnetic, and I can’t stop myself from leaning closer. His breath, cooled by the ice cream, tickles across my cheek as he whispers, “Scarlett? Are you imagining how I’d lick you? How I’d use my tongue on your pretty pink nipples and your wet, needy pussy?”
The moment those dirty words slither out from between his lips, my nipples harden. I inhale sharply as a jolt of pure lust races down my spine and pulses at my center. My legs squeeze together behind the counter, and I sure as hell hope he can’t see the effect he has on me. Thank goodness the apron Terry provided me is thick enough to hide the pointy peaks straining toward his mouth. Because yeah—I’m guessing I’d be a fan of his mouth on me.
“Shut up, Xander. I get it,” I say, my chest heaving out ragged breaths. “You’re messing with the new girl. It’s all kinds of hilarious.” My voice raises unintentionally. “News flash—I don’t give a fuck what you think of me. Or what you say or do to me or even things you warn me about. I’m not going anywhere.”
He cocks his head to the side, and I have no doubt he’s assessing me to find out just how much further he can push. “Ouch. Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to cuss? It’s not ladylike.”
My eyes blaze at him. “I don’t know my dad.” I bite down hard on my lower lip, trying not to let him goad me any more than he already has. Our classmates behind him are starting to sense the tension over here, and I can feel it coming before he says it.
“Your mom, then.” He smirks at me, a tormenting look in his eyes. They slide over my face, watching for my reaction.
I try so hard not to give it to him, but my voice hitches, then comes out in a low rush of anger-driven words. “She’s dead. But thanks for bringing it up, asshole. Really sensitive of you, given you already knew that.”
From behind him, Micah snickers, “Ouch. Burn, man.”
“That was totally fucked up.” Yet Beau still laughs.
What is wrong with these guys?
Xander tosses a playful glance back in his friends’ direction before looking at me one last time. “Thanks for the ice cream, Red. Get ready. I’ll be back for more.”
Chapter 10
As I lie in bed the next morning wishing I didn’t have to get up and go to school, my phone vibrates on my nightstand. I grab at it and hold it in front of my face until my vision clears enough to read. I jab at the text notification for what appears to be a new group text.
Daphne: What the hell happened yesterday?
Ugh. Don’t remind me. I’d almost completely lost it right there in front of Xander in the middle of the ice cream shop. It took everything in me to fire back at him like I had. I’d waited until I got home to allow myself to cry about how insensitive he’d been. I still can’t believe he’d brought up my mom. He knew that would hurt me, and I swear, given the look on his face, he’d enjoyed doing it.
Me: What do you mean?
Max: It’s everywhere. Something about you ripping Xander a new one about your mom being dead.
Great. Just peachy.
Me: Yeah. I took a job at that ice cream shop in town, and he showed up with half the football team and cheerleaders.
Daphne: Oh, man.
Me: I’ll have to tell you the whole story at lunch.
Me: Let’s just say he deserved everything I said.
Max: We have no doubt he did, Cupcake.
Me: Gotta go. I’m not even out of bed.
In the shower I think about everything I’d said to him. I totally wasn’t in the wrong at all. I still feel like crap about it, even more so now that the whole school knows my business. This is exactly what I’d hoped to avoid, but here we are, day three and Xander fucking Grey has already pointed out my most tender spot to the whole academy. It sure feels that way, anyway.
Stupid guy and his stupid, talented tongue. I’d dreamed last night that he’d been licking ice cream off of me. Apparently, I have no control in my dreams. I just want him.
I hang my head, letting the water run over me. He hadn’t been wrong about that part. My body had totally reacted to his little show. I don’t know how to process the way he’d made me feel. It’d been so deliciously naughty, especially given the fact that he’s clearly just messing with me. Even thinking about it now makes my nipples pebble, and I know if I put my hand between my legs, I’d find myself slick with arousal. Fucking asshole. I hate that my body responds to him like this.
Ready for school a while later, I grab a muffin off the dining room table and hug my aunt and uncle goodbye. Time to face the firing squad. The only thing I’m really looking forward to today is the official start of cross-country practice. I heave my backpack onto my shoulders and grab the gym bag with my running clothes and shoes. Over my shoulder, I toss out, “Don
’t forget, I have practice after school today.”
Aunt Liz nods, “We’ve got your whole practice schedule on our calendar in the kitchen. I can’t wait to hear how it goes today.”
Uncle David gives my aunt an adoring look before addressing me. “Okay, Scar, we’ll have dinner ready for you when you get home. Hamburgers on the grill sound okay?”
My heart swells. They really are trying to make me feel comfortable here. He knows I love it when he grills, and he’s done the most amazing job of fixing all my favorites since I’ve moved in. Aunt Liz lucked out when she chose David—he’s a fantastic cook. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan. I should be home no later than six.”
I take a deep breath as I consider how I’m going to make it through the day. Dammit, my aunt and uncle deserve not to have to deal with any of the crap that’s happening at school. It’s all staying under lock and key for as long as I can help it—hopefully forever. They don’t need to know. I won’t add it to their already full plate.
Chapter 11
“He’s totally fucking with you.” Max rolls his eyes to the ceiling.
I take a big bite out of my apple, looking around to see who might possibly overhear while I chew. Seeing no one I know near our table, I swallow and look between him and Daphne. “Honestly, I don’t get it. I’m the new girl, sure, but there are other students who are new, and he’s not bugging the shit out of them.”
Daphne shrugs. “She’s right. I was new last year, and I’m pretty sure I’m still nowhere on his radar, and we’ve even had classes together.”
“Lucky me, I guess.” I’d only told them about how he’d taunted me about my mom. I’m too embarrassed to tell them the filthy things he’d said to me about being jealous of how he was licking his ice cream or how he trapped me in the bathroom after school. Heat surges to my cheeks again thinking about all of it. Someone help me.