Bully (Fall Away, #1)(63)



My heart was pounding. Any second now I was going to go ballistic on him, and I probably wouldn’t be lucky enough to stay out of the Dean’s office a second time.

“Get up,” I snapped, pulling on my hand. My head swam with ideas of how I was going to hurt this kid. They’d never find the body.

“Please, let’s make this work. I’m sorry for everything.” He was deliberately speaking above the laughter so that everyone knew our business.

“I said no.”

“But the baby needs a father!” he implored.

My heart sunk at his words. Oh, my God. No, no, no…

Hoots and hollers erupted from every corner of the room, and heat rose up my neck and face. I felt like I was having an out of body experience. This could not be happening. Is this how he was making amends? By embarrassing me more?

He grabbed my hips and pressed his face into my stomach. “I promise I’ll love our kid,” he whispered for only me to hear. “I can say it louder if you want.”

“Fine, I’ll go. For now,” I said through clenched teeth. “But if you pull any more shit, I’ll break your arm.”

He popped up, wrapped his arms around me and pulled me off my feet into a hug. Swinging me around, everyone clapped and whistled, and I felt like throwing up. Once I was back on my feet, I slapped him on the arm and stalked out of the cafeteria, knowing I did not want to catch the expressions on Jess’s or Jared’s faces.





Chapter 27


Thankfully, by the time school ended, everyone knew Madoc’s joke was just that…a joke. At least the douche bag proved honorable in correcting the rumor. I still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that I’d said yes. Homecoming was still two weeks away, so hopefully I’d find a way out of it. As proven in the last month, a lot could happen in a short time.

Jared wasn’t in Themes class, so instead of fighting to not look at him, I had to fight to avoid Ben looking at me. Life could be a bitch. I was going to Homecoming with the one person in this school who made my skin crawl, I was getting attention from a gorgeous, star football player that I could care less about, and I was having wet dreams about a potential sociopath who acted like he hated me most of the time.

Eight more months.

“Hi, Dr. Porter.” I smiled tiredly as I walked into the lab after school. Since the room wasn’t available tomorrow as we’d scheduled, I’d opted to take him up on the offer to work today. Coach had given us the afternoon off, so it all worked out.

“Hi, Tate.” Dr. Porter was a middle aged ex-hippy who often left his long, rust-colored hair flowing free and drops of coffee dangling from his scraggly mustache and beard. My first few classes with him sophomore year were irritating. I kept wanting to take a napkin to his face.

“How long can I stay today?” Dropping my bag on the floor underneath my usual table, I looked to Dr. Porter.

“I’ll be around for at least an hour, probably more.” He gathered some folders and papers, trying to find a way to grab his coffee cup, too. “Do you need anything?”

“I’ll go get my crate from the closet, and I know where everything is that I need.”

“Good. I have a planning meeting with the Science department, but it’s in another classroom. Feel free to come and get me if you need anything. I mean it. Room 136B.” He headed for the door.

“Okay, thanks.” Grabbing a heavy vinyl apron off the coat rack, I slid it over my head and tied it around my waist. The tie scratched at my back in the small sliver of space where my jeans and top failed to cover my skin.

Digging my supplies out of the closet, I nearly dropped the heavy load as soon as I walked back into the classroom. Jared sat at the teacher’s table up front.

Hell.

He leaned back in the chair with his hands behind his head and one foot propped up on the edge of the table. His eyes gave nothing away, but his stare was focused entirely on me. That alone made the heat rise to my face and a cool sweat seeped out of my pores.

Damn him. Why did he have to look like that?

The softness of his lips, and his tongue hot and heavenly on my neck flashed through my memory. An anxious twitch started between my legs, and I really wanted to straddle him on that chair.

Shit. I was a walking time bomb of nerves.

I shook my head and averted my eyes as I carried my crate to my table. “Not now, Jared. I’m busy.” Honestly, that was the truth. I needed to focus, and as much as part of me wanted to indulge in this drama, I needed to be left alone.

“I know.” His smooth voice was strangely calm. “I came to help you.”

I stopped unloading the crate and stared at him wide-eyed. “Help me?” My tone dripped with sarcasm as I was sure this was either a joke on his part or an effort to sabotage my experiment. “I don’t need help.”

Dropping his arms, he stuffed his hands into the front pocket of his black hoodie. “I wasn’t asking if you did,” he replied, quickly and assertively.

“No, you’re just assuming.” Continuing to unload my materials, I avoided his eyes. That damn dream kept coursing through my mind, and I was scared that I’d give something away if I looked at him.

“Not at all. I know what you can do.” There was laughter in his voice, and I didn’t miss the double meaning in that remark. “I thought that if we’re going to be friends, this might be a good place to start.”

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