first time since we met, the glare that meets mine isn’t cold. The sound of a door creaking on its hinges tells me that he’s carried me inside the dorm. His face is pinched together, and his dark blue eyes are glossed over. I’m sure he’s as tired as I feel.
Those lips. Those kissable, plump lips are so close to mine. I can almost taste them. “The devil has dimples,” I hoarsely purr as he gently lays me on my bed. Ryle’s lips part, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at me like he has something to say. “What are you thinking?” The hairs on the back of my neck begin to prickle from his closeness as he dips his head. I can smell the wintergreen gum resting between his teeth. I tilt my chin forward.
This is it.
He’s going to kiss me.
I hold my breath, waiting for his lips to brush against mine.
“Your breath smells awful.”
My eyes widen in horror as I shoot up a hand to cover my mouth. A cloud of disappointment erupts in my stomach like a bomb. I study the expression on his face. It’s no shocker that he wasn’t teasing. How many times is my heart going to deceive me today, or yesterday…whatever?
“You’re a prick.”
“Don’t act like Zoe didn’t warn you.”
My heart pounds feverishly in my chest, matching each throb in my skull. “What are you talking about?” I mentally take a vow of sobriety, as I fight my eyes to stay open.
Ryle’s hand skims up my arm, his index finger marking its path until it reaches my face and he cups the side of it. Holding my cheek in the palm of his hand, he smirks. The little bastard actually has the audacity to laugh in my face after insulting me in my own dorm room. He quickly changes his tune, his brows furrowing as he looks at me intently. “Did you think you were the first girl that Zoe has given her little spiel to?”
I physically draw back from him, putting as much distance between us as I can, but he only moves closer to me. It’s another cat and mouse game, and we all know how it ends. Poor mouse.
“You did, didn’t you?” I scowl, and he continues. “Didn’t you wonder how she knew you’d get burned?”
Like the naïve little wuss that I am, I confess, “She said she watched it happen before.”
“She didn’t watch it,” he licks his plump lips and glares at me with a look that tells me he knows he’s under my skin. “She lived it.” A flash of triumph crosses Ryle’s face, seconds before I pull back my hand and slap the grin right off his mouth.
“Get out you sick—.”
“Get angry.” A muscle in his perfect flipping jaw line ticks as he antagonizes me. “I want you to think I’m so repulsive that the sight of me makes you want to puke.”
It doesn’t even matter why he wants me to find him repulsive. I admit that it may have prior to his little admission, but at this moment in time, I do find him disgusting. I grit my teeth. “Mission accomplished.”
Without another word, he stands up. His shirt is crunched up, showcasing tanned abs. I couldn’t care less if his shirt was off and his boxers were puddled at his feet. He’s not someone I’ll ever be interested in. Not now. His image isn’t just bad, his soul is. And I want no part of mingling with someone so tainted with doucheness. He takes one last look at me and nods his head like his job here is done. He turns and walks away without looking back.
Huffing, I tug back my covers and wonder who made my freaking bed. I swear if it was Ryle, I’m going to murder him. I don’t want him touching anything of mine. Without changing my clothes, I climb onto my twin, not caring in the slightest that I’m probably staining my clean sheets with glow-in-the-dark paint. I yank the covers up over my body. The smell of home fills my nostrils, but it doesn’t put me at ease. It does the exact opposite. The smell of home will fade, and I’ll still be here, lying in a bed several states away, wondering why in hell I left.
So far, college sucks , I think as I
Those lips. Those kissable, plump lips are so close to mine. I can almost taste them. “The devil has dimples,” I hoarsely purr as he gently lays me on my bed. Ryle’s lips part, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at me like he has something to say. “What are you thinking?” The hairs on the back of my neck begin to prickle from his closeness as he dips his head. I can smell the wintergreen gum resting between his teeth. I tilt my chin forward.
This is it.
He’s going to kiss me.
I hold my breath, waiting for his lips to brush against mine.
“Your breath smells awful.”
My eyes widen in horror as I shoot up a hand to cover my mouth. A cloud of disappointment erupts in my stomach like a bomb. I study the expression on his face. It’s no shocker that he wasn’t teasing. How many times is my heart going to deceive me today, or yesterday…whatever?
“You’re a prick.”
“Don’t act like Zoe didn’t warn you.”
My heart pounds feverishly in my chest, matching each throb in my skull. “What are you talking about?” I mentally take a vow of sobriety, as I fight my eyes to stay open.
Ryle’s hand skims up my arm, his index finger marking its path until it reaches my face and he cups the side of it. Holding my cheek in the palm of his hand, he smirks. The little bastard actually has the audacity to laugh in my face after insulting me in my own dorm room. He quickly changes his tune, his brows furrowing as he looks at me intently. “Did you think you were the first girl that Zoe has given her little spiel to?”
I physically draw back from him, putting as much distance between us as I can, but he only moves closer to me. It’s another cat and mouse game, and we all know how it ends. Poor mouse.
“You did, didn’t you?” I scowl, and he continues. “Didn’t you wonder how she knew you’d get burned?”
Like the naïve little wuss that I am, I confess, “She said she watched it happen before.”
“She didn’t watch it,” he licks his plump lips and glares at me with a look that tells me he knows he’s under my skin. “She lived it.” A flash of triumph crosses Ryle’s face, seconds before I pull back my hand and slap the grin right off his mouth.
“Get out you sick—.”
“Get angry.” A muscle in his perfect flipping jaw line ticks as he antagonizes me. “I want you to think I’m so repulsive that the sight of me makes you want to puke.”
It doesn’t even matter why he wants me to find him repulsive. I admit that it may have prior to his little admission, but at this moment in time, I do find him disgusting. I grit my teeth. “Mission accomplished.”
Without another word, he stands up. His shirt is crunched up, showcasing tanned abs. I couldn’t care less if his shirt was off and his boxers were puddled at his feet. He’s not someone I’ll ever be interested in. Not now. His image isn’t just bad, his soul is. And I want no part of mingling with someone so tainted with doucheness. He takes one last look at me and nods his head like his job here is done. He turns and walks away without looking back.
Huffing, I tug back my covers and wonder who made my freaking bed. I swear if it was Ryle, I’m going to murder him. I don’t want him touching anything of mine. Without changing my clothes, I climb onto my twin, not caring in the slightest that I’m probably staining my clean sheets with glow-in-the-dark paint. I yank the covers up over my body. The smell of home fills my nostrils, but it doesn’t put me at ease. It does the exact opposite. The smell of home will fade, and I’ll still be here, lying in a bed several states away, wondering why in hell I left.
So far, college sucks , I think as I
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