The Peer and the Puppet (When Rivals Play, #1) (104)

Fucking hell.

As if sensing my attention, she peeked over her shoulder, and instantly, we locked gazes. The connection was short-lived, but judging by the stiff set of her shoulders, I knew I wasn’t as easy to ignore as she wanted me to believe. It would serve her right if I dragged her stubborn ass inside one of these empty study rooms and reminded her why I held her strings. I couldn’t get Four out of my head while she went out of her way to avoid me.

It’s been eleven days.

Eleven. Goddamn. Days.

I knew the rumors circulating our school were why she’d turned cold. They all wanted to know if I was sneaking in her bed at night. My moment of weakness ended with Four taking all of the heat. It was why I gave her the space she wanted and hoped she’d come to me on her own—before my patience ran out. Clearly, she was more pigheaded than I gave her credit.

Unable to withstand the emotional and physical distance anymore, I maneuvered through the small portion of our senior class until I stood next to her. Discreetly grabbing her elbow, I pulled her to the rear away from prying eyes.

Glancing up at me, she sighed but didn’t pull away as we fell further and further behind. “I don’t recall hearing your name when the group chaperone did roll call,” she grumbled.

“I ditched my group.”

“Because you do what you want without consequence?”

We both knew she wasn’t talking about me being here.

Placing a hand on her spine, I shoved her into an empty dark corner underneath the stairs just as the last of our group passed through a set of double doors. The guide’s droning and the footsteps of our classmates quickly faded. Leaning down until my lips touched her ear, I growled, “Because I couldn’t resist your flame, Archer.”

“Stalker.”

“Brat.”

“Prick.”

I clutched her hips and yanked her lower half until there was no space left between us. “Mine.”

Her body trembled as her forehead rubbed against my own when she shook her head. “Never,” she whispered.

Resisting the urge to kiss her, I took a deep breath, exhaled, and said, “I’m sorry for what happened.”

“No, you’re not.”

No, I wasn’t. Everyone at school now knew she was mine, and I couldn’t find issue with that. I didn’t regret it one goddamn bit.

“You calling me on my shit?” I couldn’t help grinning.

“Someone’s got to.”

“Yeah?” Forgetting that at any moment we could be caught, my hand slipped under her skirt and petted her pussy through her damp panties. “Who gets to call you on yours?”

“Ever…” she moaned.

“Good fucking answer.”

“That’s not what I—”

A throat cleared, interrupting her protest.

I peeked over my shoulder and found who I assumed was a silver-haired NYU professor wearing red-rimmed glasses, pearls, and a disapproving frown.

“If you two would come with me, I’ll escort you back to your group.”

I heard Four’s sharp inhale and knew she feared exposure. No way was this woman not going to report what she saw. It was one thing for our classmates to suspect we were fucking, but a teacher confirming it to our parents was another thing entirely. Thinking quickly, I grabbed Four’s hand and made a run for it. We pissed off a few people during our mad dash through the crowded library—namely the guy who spilled his coffee to get out of our way—and drew even more attention. Ignoring a chorus of “Hey!” and “Stop!” we burst through the nearest exit marked Emergency Only and set off a piercing alarm.

“Shit.”

After looking around for a place to hide and finding nothing, I started forward so we could cross the street, but the sound of Four’s laughter drew me to an abrupt stop. She was still smiling brightly after I turned to face her, and I swallowed hard when I realized that I’d gladly be caught red-handed if it meant I could live in this moment a little while longer.

Still giggling, she said, “That was fun.”

“Oh?”

She nodded before chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. “And it made me realize something.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m not the troublemaker,” she answered with bright eyes. “You are.”

I knew the exact moment she realized her mistake. Her fallen visage mirrored the turmoil raging within me, and I cursed myself for confiding in her at the beach. She hadn’t been wrong with her assessment, and even though she’d meant it as a compliment, she also knew why it was anything but.

I now wondered if finding Nathaniel Fox would even make a difference. I was still the same person I was four years ago. I only became good at hiding it.

“Oh, Ever, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine.” I cleared my throat to rid my voice of the emotion weighing it down and said, “We should get back.”

She didn’t argue as I led the way.

Twenty minutes later, we rejoined the group with Mr. Fletcher, Four’s pre-calculus teacher and group chaperone, none the wiser. The tour had come to an end, so we were promptly directed back to the buses.

Neither Four nor I had spoken a word in more than half an hour, but still, I stayed close as we waited to board the bus. After that unlikely encounter with Wren on Four’s birthday and knowing he could still be watching me, I wasn’t leaving her safety up to chance. Stealing a peek at her, my stomach turned at the dejection written on her face, so I decided to say something—anything—to bring back her smile.