Page 8 of Bitter When He Begs

By the time we reach my truck, he’s tense. His fingers twitch, and I know he’s debating making a run for it. I don’t give him the chance. I open the door and jerk my chin toward the passenger seat.

“Get in.”

Sage breathes out a sigh, jaw locking, but he doesn’t fight. Not really. “You’re a fucking asshole,” he mutters while climbing in anyway.

I grin, slamming the door behind him before rounding the front, slipping into the driver’s seat, and locking the doors with a smooth click that makes his shoulders go tight.

Smart.

Heshouldbe nervous.

I don’t say anything as I pull away from the house—away from the party, away from all the people he thinks make him safe. I keep one hand on the wheel, the other tapping against my thigh, my whole body thrumming with something close to satisfaction.

He still came.

He still listened.

He still belongs to me.

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, my smirk widening when I see him looking out the window like he’s already regretting this.

“Something wrong, Sunshine?” I drawl, knowing he’ll hate it.

And I’m right—his head snaps toward me, eyes narrowing, his mouth pulling tight like he’s trying not to react. “Don’t call me that.”

I laugh. “What, you prefer Blackwell? Nah, that doesn’t fit you anymore.” I let my gaze flick over him. “Not when you’ve got your cute little frat boy routine going on.”

His fingers twitch in his lap, and it just makes me smirk harder.

I steer the truck into an empty lot behind one of the old buildings on campus, nothing but shadows stretching long across the pavement and the quiet settling in around us. When I cut the engine, Sage is already turning toward me like he’s ready to get this over with.

“Okay, you found me and dragged me out here,” he says, crossing his arms. “What the fuck do you want, Luca?”

I take my time and let my gaze drag over him, picking apart the details. The loose fit of his shirt, the way his glasses slip down his nose slightly, and the muscle in his jaw flexing as he grinds his teeth.

He’s tenser now than he was the night I first shoved him against the lockers and told him exactly where he stood in my world. Back then, he had the look of someone who knew he didn’t belong. Someone fragile, someone I could break if I wanted to. But now something’s changed.

I smirk, tilting my head. “So. You gonna tell me what the fuck happened to you, or do I have to figure it out myself?”

Sage exhales through his nose and shakes his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I laugh, amused, letting my elbow rest against the center console as I turn to face him fully. “Bullshit.”

Three months ago, he would’ve folded by now—would’ve looked away, would’ve shifted uncomfortably, would’ve made himself small.

Now, he just looks… pissed.

It’s cute.

I reach out and brush my fingers against the side of his neck. He jerks back immediately, eyes flashing, but that just makes me grin wider.

“See, that’s what I mean,” I say smoothly, voice dipping into something taunting. “Three months ago, you would’ve taken that. Would’ve frozen up, let me do whatever the fuck I wanted.” I lean in slightly, watching the way his breath stutters before he forces himself to stay still. “But this? This is new.”

He swallows hard before shoving my hand away. “Maybe I just learned not to take shit from guys like you.”

I chuckle, dragging my tongue across my teeth as I lean back. “Is that right?”

“Yeah.”