Little Lies(51)

Her eyes flare, and her lip curls in a sneer. “Are you kidding me? You were butt-ass naked in front of my entire goddamn art class for three hours, and you’re coming at me with this load of crap?”

“It’s not the same fucking thing at all!” I shout back.

“You’re right. It’s not. I’m actually wearing clothes, and you were wearing nothing. And for what purpose, other than to remind me, yet again, that I’m inconsequential to you?” She motions to her chest. “Every single girl down there is dressed exactly the same. I was trying to fit in.”

Not even remotely true, but she’s spitting mad, and so am I.

My body is reacting in ways it really has no business doing right now, and all it does is make me angrier. “Is that what you want, Lavender? To be a bunny like the rest of the vapid lemmings down there? Gonna make your rounds through the team, minus the guys you’re related to? Then maybe you can start on the football team when you’re done.”

“And so what if I want to?” She props her fist on a curvy hip. “Who are you to dictate what I do and with who? You sure as hell enjoy the perks of all these parties. Why shouldn’t I?”

I don’t know what kind of rumors she’s heard, or what she thinks she knows about me, but I’m doubtful it’s accurate. I’m not a saint, but I’m not like Maverick or BJ. Regardless, the mere thought of her hooking up with one of my teammates, let alone more than one of them, makes my brain short out, and I become the worst, most heinous version of myself.

“This is a ploy to get my attention, isn’t it, Lavender? Did you want to get me alone again and see what would happen? Haven’t we done this before?” I take her face in my hands, warm and alive and so fucking beautiful, it hurts to even look at her. But I lean in anyway, the torture of being this close to her better than the alternative, which is Clarke or some other asshole getting his hands on her. “Nothing has changed, Lavender. I still don’t want you.” Lies. All lies.

A flash of hurt mars her features, but she covers the reaction quickly, and her full lips twist into a sneer. “Are you sure about that?” Her fingertips connect with my chest and goose bumps flash across my skin. She holds my gaze as her hand drifts down, the challenge in her eyes apparent. I na?vely assume she doesn’t have the balls to go there, until she does. She skims my erection and cups me through the thin fabric. “How screwed up must you be now, Kodiak, that manhandling me gets you all jacked up?”

I grit my teeth against the desire to stop the lies and end this torment. Instead, I do what I’ve programmed myself to: be an asshole. “You’re practically naked. You’re all tits and ass and bare skin, just like the last time. Have some goddamn self-respect, Lavender.” I release her and stalk out of her room, slamming the door behind me.

I loathe myself for the things I said and the way I handled her.

I wish things were different, that I hadn’t brought us here, to this point where she believes I hate her, when it’s really myself I can’t stand.





Chapter Nineteen


Fuck this Bullshit

Lavender

Present day

I DON’T MOVE for long minutes after Kodiak leaves, unsure what to make of his reaction and his actions versus his words. I’m so confused.

I flop down on my bed, feeling a lot like an idiot. I wanted to get him back for art class. I guess that’s what I get for taking advice from Lovey and Lacey after they’ve been drinking coolers. I hadn’t accounted for all the drunk jocks pawing at me. I mean, I realized I was going to draw some attention, just not quite as much as I did. But dealing with Kodiak and his asshole behavior is exhausting.

I’m definitely going to regret this tomorrow. More than I already do.


____________________

The next morning I’m busy working on a new costume piece. I already handed in my costume at the end of last week and offered to start something new. A loud thud makes me jump and almost prick myself with a needle. I tug my earbuds free, and the sound of loud male voices filters through my door. I push back my chair and stumble a few steps. I’m stiff from having been in the same position for the past several hours. It takes me a few seconds to get the lock to turn, since my eyes are still adjusting from having been staring at tiny stitches.

I rush down the stairs and find the source of the noise. “What’s going on?”

River is on top of Kodiak, aiming punches at his face. “I told you to keep your fucking hands off her!”

“She was drunk and talking to Clarke!” Kodiak has quick reflexes and blocks every shot, which makes my brother even angrier.

How does River know about last night when he wasn’t even here?

I don’t have a lot of time to think too much about that, because at the rate these two are going, there’s going to be missing teeth and bloodstains on the carpet if someone doesn’t do something to stop it. And apparently that someone has to be me.

I latch on to River’s arm, but he’s on the down swing and drags me to the floor beside Kodiak. When I’m elbowed in the neck, I quickly conclude I’ve made a mistake getting in the middle of their fight.

Then suddenly the fighting is over, because I’m flopping around on the floor, holding my throat and gasping for breath. I remind myself of a dying fish, but man, that really hurt.