Fierce (10 page)

Infatuation

I walk after him like a puppy dog, and we
go into his room. He puts my book down on his desk and turns around.

“We’ve got an hour or two. My roommate will
be back by then.”

“What does him coming back have to do with
us studying?” I say, peering into his room.

He sits down on his bed. “Can’t have him
see me read a book.”

I gaze at him, and the serious look on his
face makes me burst out into laughter.

“What? Are you serious?”

“I’m dead serious.”

“It’s just a book.” I use the table to lean
back.

“Not to them. They’d kick my ass if they
saw me trying too hard. Nah, I gotta fit in.”

“With who?”

“No one.”

So, he refuses to talk about it. I’m still
going to want to know. I won’t stop asking about it.

He clears his throats and pats the bed.
“Sit down.”

It sounds more like a command than a
question. Still, I do as he says. Those eyes of his are luring me, coaxing me
to come. My body wants to do whatever it takes to get close to him.

I’m not so sure anymore what my brain has
to say.

As I sit down, I look at his bruises and
the scabs on his wounds. “It’s healing quite nicely.”

“Yeah, about that, do you think we could
take off the bandage? I don’t really want to go out into the world looking like
I have a war wound.”

I chuckle. “Sure. I didn’t know you were
that insecure.”

“I’m not. I just don’t want them to ask any
questions.”

I have no idea who ‘them’ is, but I think
it has something to do with the guys he keeps hanging around with.

Squinting, I start peeling off his bandages.
His eyes are on me like a hawk, checking my movement. I have to twirl it around
his head to take it off, so I lean forward. Sometimes I catch him flashing a
glance at my boobs. My entire body zings from seeing it. Like I want him to see
me. Almost as if I’m prepping to be touched.

I clear my throat once I’m done, and check
the remaining scar to see if it’s healing well enough.

“Are you afraid they’ll ask you why you
were in a fight?” I say.

He snorts. “Oh, no. They know already.”

“Then what? You’re afraid to look weak?” I
say.

When he doesn’t answer, I know I made the right
guess. “What does it matter what they think? You were the one who told me that
the only thing that matters is what
you
think of yourself.”

His eyebrows tighten and he looks down at
the floor. “I said that because it’s true, but my situation is a little more
complicated than that. I need to be fit and ready, at all times.”

“For what? Fighting?”

He sighs, which sounds more like a dragon’s
breath, and reaches over to his fridge, taking out a bottle of water. He holds
the plastic bottle against his swollen face, the coldness of it probably
soothing to him.

“I fight because I have to.”

“Why?”

“Stop asking so many questions. I saved
your ass. That’s the only thing you need to know.”

I swallow and sit back. I feel I
overstepped his limits a bit. “Thank you for helping me back there. If it wasn’t
for you, I’d be …” I push away the word again. “How come you were there
anyway?”

“I was watching them. Still pissed I didn’t
spot them leaving the joint. Otherwise I would’ve been there way quicker.”

“You were watching them?” I say with a
voice that makes me sound like an interviewer.

He shuts his mouth and just stares at me.

Okay … I guess even that question is too
much for him.

I wonder what in the world he’s hiding.

“Well, your wounds look like they’ve healed
quite nicely. Should be no more than a couple of days before the scars are
completely gone.”

“Too bad. I kinda liked the idea of looking
like a pirate.” He leans closer, makes a
yaarrghh
sound, and forms hooks
with his fingers.

We both burst out into laughter.

We spend the next hour going over his
homework and outlining what needs to be done in order to catch up. He’s behind
schedule by quite a bit, and it worries me to see him struggle this much. I
didn’t know he had so much trouble coping with college life.

When he throws the book to the other end of
the room, I sigh.

“Enough for today. I’m fucking tired
already,” he says, yawning.

“But we haven’t even started yet.”

He shrugs, and I stand up. I pick up his
book lying next to the book shelf, and when I come back up I can’t help skim
over the many books inside. It’s like a treasure chest to me. I wish I could
just grab a bunch of them, sneak out, lock myself in my room, and read all day.

I hear footsteps behind me. Then I feel his
chest press up against my back.

I shudder. His pecs are pushing against my
back, and I love how it feels. My whole body clenches with need.

“I used to read a lot when I was little,”
he says softly.

“I can see …” I say.

“You like books a lot, don’t you?” he says,
and he lowers his head so he can look into my eyes. I don’t dare turn my head.
I’m much too excited. Electrified by his proximity.

And then my eyes catch a peculiar book.
Harry
Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone
.

I gasp. “Oh my God! You’ve read
Harry
Potter
? God, it’s been ages since I last saw that book.”

He chortles softly, so close to my ear it’s
making me shiver.

I turn around within his arms and find
myself gazing into his hypnotizing eyes.

“I told you, you shouldn’t judge a book by
its cover. Reading is … difficult. But if I have the patience, I enjoy it.” I
don’t even hear the words he’s saying. All I can see are those rugged lips as
they separate. How he licks his lips in between and squeezes them. How I want
to kiss him.

He inches forward. The intoxicating scent
of his aftershave arouses me. His arm reaches past me, and I’m still amazed by
the size of his muscles as they move beside me. I gulp when I see them flex. He
takes out the book and holds it in front of me.

“You can have it.”

He waits until I hold up my hands and gives
it to me. “I … I …” I stammer like a dribbling, love-struck teen.

When I look at him all I see is hotness.
Power. Masculinity. He radiates sex. Oozes it from his protruding veins. Screams
it through his magnificent eyes.

And it’s such a turn-on, I can’t stand it.

All I want is for him to be closer, to
touch him, to have his hands all over me. I’d like that.

Suddenly he moves back and clears his
throat. “Well, I guess we should call it a day, for now. Let’s continue
tomorrow.” He opens the door for me.

I smile and draw in a much-needed breath.
“Yeah, sure.” I walk to the door, clenching the book firmly against my chest.

“Cool,” he says as I walk out. “See you
tomorrow then?”

I nod, and he nods, and then a moment of
very uncomfortable silence follows.

“See ya,” he says, and then he closes the
door in front of me.

I just stand there, staring at the wood. My
heart is beating like crazy. My breath is crazily fast. I want to jump up and
down from all the tension that’s been building up inside me.

God, I could squeal forever.

I have to tell someone. I really have to
talk to someone, right now. This has got to come out.

I think I’m falling for Hunter.

But Evie’s not around, and I have no idea
where to find her. Sure, I could go looking, but that would take me ages, and
by that time it’ll no longer be fresh.

Maybe I could tell Brody.

It’s not such a bad idea, actually. I mean,
he was my best friend, before I had Evie. He can’t have changed
that
much, can he? I don’t want our friendship to disappear. Maybe if I tell him
some good news he’ll cheer up.

Before I realize it, I’m already standing
right in front of his door. I try not to be overly enthusiastic as I open it.

“Brody, I …”

My voice stops working.

Brody’s behind his desk, fidgeting with
plastic bags. He’s putting some white powder inside them.

My eyes widen as I see him doing the thing
I never imagined. He’s preparing drugs?

He turns his head the moment I burst in and
covers his stuff with his jacket. “What are you doing here?” he snaps.

He gets up, and I immediately step back as
he comes toward me. “I don’t have time right now,” he says, and he slams the
door shut.

It takes me a while to realize I’m not even
breathing.

I take in a sharp breath. If what I saw
there was real, Brody is a … drug dealer?

My God …

Why?

“Brody,” I shout. “Open the door. We need
to talk.”

No response.

I start banging on the door, but he doesn’t
open. “Why are you doing this?”

I’m asking questions I know the answer to
already. But I don’t understand why he couldn’t think of any other way to make
enough money. I know we’ve always been a bit poor, but that doesn’t mean he
should stoop so low and just go the criminal route.

This can’t be real. It just can’t. Never in
my life would I have imagined him dealing drugs. And yet everything he’s done
the last couple of days suddenly makes all the sense in the world. He’s changed
so much, I don’t even recognize him anymore.

And that’s when I realize he’s no longer my
friend.

Tug
of War

I love sitting under a tree, reading a
book. With the warm sun on my face and a light breeze it’s the best thing in
the world. Nobody to disturb me or tear me from the pages of my book.

The word ‘my’ makes me gloat. It’s not
actually ‘my’ book. It’s the book Hunter gave me yesterday, and it still smells
like him. Well, more like his room, but still, anything that reminds me of him
makes me giggle.

I twirl my fingers through the grass as I
hold onto the book with one hand. I’m lying on the ground on my belly, making
sure my clothes don’t get dirty by placing a blanket underneath. When Evie’s
still in her classes, I like to spend my time reading and pining over boys I
will never have. Gotta do something.

Besides, I don’t have Brody to hang out
with anymore.

Even if he wanted to, I’m done with him.

I’ve been forcing myself not to think about
him since yesterday. He doesn’t deserve it, and it would only make me cry. I
don’t want to cry over something so pathetic.

I should just forget about him.

Suddenly, a shadow is cast over the pages
of my novel. The sun is blocked by something … or someone.

As I peer up with furrowed brows, I see
it’s Hunter, and my annoyed look turns into a cheerful smile.

My eyes light up the moment I see him. He’s
towering above me, wearing ragged pants and a flimsy tank top, which barely
covers his broad chest. I gulp at the sight, especially because his black
jacket makes him look so tough.

He’s like a motorcycle rider, only he
isn’t. He just looks like one.

Hunter goes to his knees and snatches away
my book.

“Hey!” I snap. “I was reading that.”

“Yeah, ‘was.’ And now you’re not.” He holds
out his other hand. “Get up.”

I grab his hand, and the moment my fingers
touch his it sends electrical shocks through my entire body. He’s so strong, he
can lift me in one go without my help. My boobs bounce from the way he jerks me
up, and I see his eyes flick to them for only a fraction of a second.

I gulp, and a flush spreads across my face
as I pull my shirt up higher.

“What’s this for?” I say.

“Time for some training.” He leans forward,
grabs the blanket, and folds it up.

“What, now?”

“Yes, now. My classes are finished, and by
the looks of it so are yours. We don’t have much time, so let’s make the best
use of it.”

“B-but I have to study and―”

“But, but, but,” he mocks, making a pouty
face. “If you wanna learn how to defend yourself, you gotta put in the effort.”

I frown. “I was busy. You think I’m just
going to adjust to your schedule?”

“You can read a book anytime you want. I
can’t do this with you anytime I want. If I could, I would, trust me,” he
grunts with a thick voice that makes me shiver.

My pupils dilate when he says that, and my
core heats up. Damn, why does he always do those things? And why do I find it
so goddamn attractive?

He steps back a little, putting on a cocky
smile as he throws my … his book in the grass. Then he throws the blanket on
top of it. Grinning, he takes off his jacket. The lines of his muscles show
clearly through the thin fabric of his tank top, and my heart is already
beating in my throat just seeing it. His biceps bulge and for a second I think
he’s flexing them.

“C’mon,” he says, rubbing his hands
together. “I’m ready for you.”

One of my eyebrows lifts up. “What? In
these clothes? I’m not dressed for sparring.”

He snorts. “You won’t be dressed for it
when they attack you again either. Now c’mon.” He signals to me with his
fingers, lifting his eyebrow only a little to taunt me.

I take a deep breath and place my hands on
my waist. He’s gawking at me from a distance, bending through his knees like a
professional wrestler. If the look on his face wasn’t so goddamn sexy, I
would’ve shaken my head and walked away, but I can’t.

For some reason I’d love nothing more than
to tussle with him.

“Well? Are you going to come at me or
what?” he says.

Swallowing, I fling my arms and legs to
shake some life into them after sitting for so long. I take a deep breath and a
good look at him. His tan muscles are already primed, ready to go. He looks
like a football player waiting for the ball to be thrown into his hands so he
can race off.

“Don’t make me wait … I hate it when girls
make me wait.”

I chuckle. “Oh, really? What then? Are you
going to kick a wall again or something?”

He muffles a low laugh. “I’ll come after
you myself if I have to. And things get rough with me pretty fast.”

There’s some sexual innuendo in there, I’m
sure of it. The way he groans makes me want to bite my lip. God, he’s so hot.

Goddammit, I have to stop thinking like
that.

No way a guy like him would ever fall for a
nerd. He could pick any girl he wants. Who’d want to pick me?

Clearing my throat, I say, “Okay. Here I
come.”

After taking a quick breath I bolt toward
him. I put all my strength into it, but he still manages to stay upright as I
crash into him. He’s like a rock in the ocean, forever unbreakable, and I’m the
fish slapping up against it.

I try to tackle him, but instead I’m the
one falling on my ass.

“Ouch!”

He laughs, so loud it makes me feel
embarrassed. Everyone can hear him.

“Why are you announcing you’re going to
attack? That’s like playing right into my hands,” he says, and he holds out his
hand.

I grapple him and try to pull him down, but
he remains as balanced as ever. Shaking the finger on his free hand, he says,
“You think it’s that easy to bring me down?”

“I’ll make it happen. Eventually.”

He chuckles. “I like your spunk.” He takes
a few steps back. “Try again.”

I clean the dirt from my legs and bite on
my cheek while thinking about a tactic. If I could only get him to move, then I
could take him down. I thought he was going to teach me something, but instead
I’m charging into him. Not my idea of learning self-defense.

“C’mon. I can take you, Leafy,” he says,
biting his lip.

That name he has for me … God, I hate it.
Why can’t he just call me by my real name?

I’ve had enough of his provocations. Maybe
I’ll just kick him in the balls instead. That’ll show him not to mess with me.

I know it’s below the belt. Literally. But
at least I can try to win this way.

God, I’ve changed, too.

I charge forward without warning this time.
As I lift my knee he deflects my leg by pushing it down with his free hand.
With the other, he grabs my lower arm.

“You’re getting dirty.” He squeezes my
wrist, hard, and makes it impossible for me to escape. “I like it,” he murmurs.

With clenched teeth I fight to get loose,
but he won’t release me.

“Put a little effort into it,” he says.
“Nobody’s going to be nice for you. I’m not either.”

I slam his arm with my free hand, but he
still won’t let me go. It’s like he doesn’t feel anything. Nothing. Nothing at
all.

Damn, is he some kind of brick wall?

He chuckles. “C’mon, hit me.” At first it
sounds like he’s pushing me, but after a while it becomes plain mean. “Hit me!”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re a wuss. A boneless nerd. You can’t
fend for yourself. Can’t live in the real world. Not even one day.”

“Shut up!” I gather all my strength and
punch him so hard in the gut his stomach retracts, and he takes one step back.
His grip on my wrist loosens, and I jerk myself free.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I say,
my eyes welling up with tears again. “You’re being an asshole, and you know
it.”

“Damn, that was a good jab,” he grunts.

“Who cares? You’re a bully.”

He laughs and steps forward. When I try to
hit him again, he grabs both my wrists and comes to a halt right in my face.
“I’m helping you.”

“Helping me? You’re insulting me,
belittling me, and making me feel like a pile of crap.”

“And those guys didn’t?”

“What do they have to do with it?” I snap.

I try to jerk my wrists free, but he won’t
let me go.

“Anger helps you fight. It fuels you.” His
lips quirk up into a devilish smile. “Guess this is your first time finding out
about the power of rage.”

“Whatever.”

“C’mon. You know I didn’t mean any of it.
It’s just to get you worked up.”

“Let me go,” I hiss.

“Make me,” he says jokingly.

I’m so pissed, I kick him against the shin
so hard I think I’m going to snap bones.

Instead, I break his stance, and he slips.
I see him tumble down to the ground, but not before he grabs my leg and pulls
me with him.

I squeal as I land right on top of him.

I’m staring into his face, my body resting
on his body.

Oh. My. God. I can’t believe this.

I think my heart has stopped beating,
because all I hear is his breathing. My body tenses up, feeling his skin
against mine. I want nothing more than to press my body closer to his.

His chest moves against mine each time he
inhales, and these few seconds feel like an eternity.

His hand lifts. When it reaches the top of
my head, I swear I’ll fall to pieces right here, on top of him.

Something tickles, and then he retreats. In
his hand is a leaf, which was probably stuck in my hair. He releases it and
lets it drift away with the wind. Then he stares at me, his eyes suddenly
showing a little hesitance. His lips are parted and perky, and all I want is to
press mine against his.

And then smack him again.

He’s breathing against my chin, and I feel
my groin heat up. I’m getting all wired up because of him.

Shit.

I scramble off him with a face that’s
probably as red as a beet. He’s not smiling anymore, and he looks uncertain of
what to do. As if he realizes that I like him and that he can’t give me what I
want.

My smile disappears with that thought, too.

He gets up and pats his pants to shake off
all the excess grass.

“Jesus, what are you guys doing?”

I turn around at the sudden sound of Evie’s
voice.

“Hi!” I say, a little too perky. “Uh … we
were just training.”

One of her eyebrows goes down and the other
goes way up. “Training? For what? The dirty Olympics? You guys look nasty. And
sweaty too.” She waves her hand close to her nose.

Hunter coughs. “I’m teaching her
self-defense, and she helps me with my homework.”

“Oh, really?” Evie says, squinting as if
she still doesn’t trust him.

“Yes,” I say.

“Uh … Look, I’ll see you around, okay?”
Hunter says, and he picks up his jacket and puts it on again.

“Yeah, see ya,” I say as he walks away.

My mind drifts off into weird corners when
I see him walk away with that firm butt of his. I’m still a little flustered by
what happened just now. I almost kissed him.

Evie snaps her fingers and jerks me out of
my daydream. “Earth to Autumn. What are you doing with that guy?”

“He just told you.”

“Duh, I know. That’s not what I mean. Why
are you hanging around him? You
know
he’s a troublemaker.”

“He’s not
just
that.” I walk toward my
blanket and start picking up my stuff.

Evie walks after me. “You have no idea what
you’re getting yourself into. For all we know he could be hanging out with
ex-cons and juvies. Wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Evie …” I say, sighing. “I know you’re
trying to protect me, but you gotta trust me on this. I think he’s a good guy.”

She rolls her eyes, but I continue anyway.
“You have to give him a chance.”

She closes her eyes and sighs. “Fine. If
you want to. But I’m still going to watch him, make sure he doesn’t do anything
dirty.”

I laugh. “That’s going to be kind of
difficult when Hunter and I are sparring together. Can’t
not
get your hands
dirty, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You want some
independence and to kick some ass at the same time. Now let’s get back inside
and put you under the shower, because you smell like hay, and it stinks.”