A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime (Lancaster Prep )(76)
At the rate we’re going, it’ll be easy to get her to have sex with me.
And then what? What happens next? I forget all about her, like the other girls before her?
I don’t know if I can do that with Wren. She sticks with me. Within me.
All the time.
I can’t stop thinking about her. And after what happened between us just now? Forget it. She’ll consume me. I know she will.
She already does.
When she breaks away from me, her lips are swollen, her breath hitching in her throat. “We need to go.”
“Yeah.” I kiss her one last time, then let her go, grabbing my coat while she slips on that black puffy jacket she wore over. She puts on a pair of beat-up UGGs and then we’re headed out the door, out the building, and into the bitterly cold night.
I haul her close to me, draping my arm around her shoulders as we walk along the iced-over sidewalks, our steps careful, so we don’t slip. We don’t say much, our breaths forming little clouds when we exhale, and she’s shivering next to me, despite me holding her close.
When her dorm building comes into view, I have to restrain her so she doesn’t break free of me.
“I need to get inside,” she says to me when I grab hold of her hood and don’t let go. “It’s almost ten. I don’t want to get in trouble.”
The pleading look she sends my direction has me letting go of her hood, but she doesn’t run away.
Instead, she throws herself at me, her arms sneaking in beneath my coat to give me a hug, the fur ball on her hat smacking me in the mouth. “I had fun,” she murmurs.
Fun. That’s one way to describe what we did tonight.
She tilts her head back, her gaze meeting mine. “Please don’t make it weird between us tomorrow.”
“I should be the one telling you that.” I kiss her fast, then gently push her out of my arms. “Go. Before you’re late.”
A smile crosses her lips, her eyes sparkling as she takes a step backward. Then another. Her footing slips, her expression turning downright comical, and I’m about to go catch her, but in the end, she remains upright.
“Be careful,” I hiss at her, and she just laughs.
Such a pretty sound.
She turns and runs—carefully—to her building, disappearing through the double doors. I start to make my way back to my room, slowing my steps when I spot a flash of car lights pulling into the parking lot.
Odd. It’s late. No one is allowed off campus during the weeknights, unless they have special permission.
Forgetting about going back to my building, ignoring the cold, I creep closer to the parking lot, until the car comes fully into view. A late-model Nissan sedan sits there idling, two people sitting inside. I can make out their heads, how they’re bent close together, but not their features, though I recognize the vehicle.
It’s fucking Figueroa’s car.
I duck behind a bush, slowly tilting my head around it to see who might pop out of the passenger side door. Figures the pervert would take a girl off campus on a weeknight. Can’t even control himself and wait until the weekend, when the rules are lax. It’s probably Maggie. Rumor around campus is that they’ve been hooking up all semester, and I heard her boyfriend recently broke up with her because of it.
Messy.
The door finally swings open, and I wait to see Maggie’s familiar dark blonde head.
But it’s not Maggie who’s climbing out of Fig’s car.
It’s Natalie.
I hide behind the bush, confused. Since when has she been hanging around Fig? She’s never been in his English classes—he tends to go for the smart ones. The vulnerable girls who are quietly desperate for attention. Yeah, Natalie’s always looking for attention, but I wouldn’t call her quiet or desperate.
Wouldn’t necessarily consider her vulnerable either. Girl goes after what she wants, when she wants it.
Maybe that’s what she did with Fig.
And how the hell does this asshole get so much pussy anyway? He must have a way with words to convince all of these girls to spread their legs for him so easily throughout the years.
He’s such an asshole. If I could, I’d beat the shit out of him for all the girls he must’ve destroyed over the years.
Piece of shit.
Natalie is headed in my direction—her dorm is in the same hall as Wren’s—and she’s about to go marching past the bush I’m hiding behind when I step out, revealing myself.
She comes to a complete halt, her eyes wide. “Crew. What are you doing out here this time of night?”
“I should be asking you the same question, Nat.” I glance toward the now empty parking lot, Figueroa’s car long gone. He didn’t even wait to see if she got inside safely. “Who’d you sneak off with?”
She turns on the sass, despite the freezing cold and how bundled up she is. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Her tone is flirtatious.
“I think I already know.” She smirks, as if she’s daring me to figure it out. “Dark gray Nissan? An Altima, I believe? Pretty sure there’s only one teacher who drives a car like that. Figueroa?”
Her smirk fades, her gaze turning pleading. “You can’t say anything to anyone.”
“Are you seriously hooking up with that piece of shit?”
She glances back at her dorm building, completely freaked out when she faces me once more. “Keep your voice down.”