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“The fuck I am,” Lucille says, scoffing at what I’ve just said.
Lucas squeezes my hand again. I take a deep breath, and with everyone watching, I drop his hand and step forward. “I think you will, Lucille,” I say, giving her a broad smile. My heart is pumping a mile a minute. I’m so scared I think I might throw up, but at the same time, there are three assholes behind me, and those three assholes don’t mind being that way to anyone. Not just to me. I reach my hand up and pat Lucille’s head. “Go ahead. Be a good little pet and do as you’re told.”
She growls and steps forward, her shoulder knocking into mine again.
Wyatt steps between us, and I’m thankful my feet don’t move. My limbs tingle. I’ve kept my responses to their bullying inside my head my whole life. My snappy comebacks were held in, reserved for just me, myself, and I. My father was always inside my head saying, “Just be a good girl.” Or “Those dumbasses don’t matter.” And he’s right, they don’t. Not in the grand scheme of things, but in the halls of high school and college, they matter. They’ve been walking over me my entire life because I felt like I could never stand up for myself.
Not anymore.
“Lucille doesn’t have to,” Meghan says, keeping all the bravado. She’s grinning, but I can see the fear underneath her mascara. Her gaze keeps darting between the guys as if any moment now, they’ll wake up and realize what they’re doing.
Stone steps up to her. He places his finger under her chin and tips her face up to his. My breathing halts. I’m transfixed. Jealousy burns through me because I clearly have some issues when it comes to Stone Jacobs. I hate him. I really fucking do. But the thought of him kissing Meghan right here in front of everyone burns my ass. Stepbrother be damned.
Like me, it looks like Meghan is having a hard time breathing too. I get it. Stone is drool worthy. If it weren’t for the natural contraception of his personality, I’d be putting him in my spank bank every fucking day. My skin turns to fire. Just the thought of him has liquid lava singing through my veins.
Stone hovers over her lips. Meghan moves onto her tiptoes. There’s barely any distance between them. I want to look away. I need to look away. The whole cafeteria is waiting to see what will happen though.
“Tell your little dog to do as Dakota says.”
Meghan blinks. “Lucille,” she says. Her voice is almost angelic. She’s caught in Stone’s gravitational pull. “Do as Stone says.”
“Meghan...”
She turns her head. “I said fucking do it,” she snaps. Lucille still hesitates, so Meghan bites out. “Do it or I’ll tell everyone what you thought you did with tampons.”
Lucille’s jaw snaps shut, and the whole cafeteria erupts into laughter. I have to hand it to Lucille. She pulls her shoulders back and crouches to pick up the tray. She crosses the cafeteria, discards the trash, places the tray back in the return window, and then gets in line.
“You had a chocolate milk, right?” Wyatt asks.
I shake my head.
“Get her a chocolate milk!” Wyatt calls out, ignoring me. “There were also two slices of pizza on that tray. Napkins, silverware, and one of those chocolate cupcakes.”
Lucille shakes her head and tips her chin in the air some more, but she does as he says. I barely restrain a laugh, but when I gaze over at Stone and Meghan, they’re still transfixed with each other. My stomach curdles. I can’t believe he sees something in her. He sure as hell is eating her up right now.
Meghan is someone Lance might approve of. No one in Clary is rich, but her family fakes it the best. That’s how she got to be the queen bee. Isn’t that always the way it goes? I mean, I only have books andMean Girlsto compare to real life, but I’m fairly sure that’s how it works more often than not.
“Here,” Lucille says as she walks back up to us. She thrusts the tray at me, and I start to take it, but Stone interrupts.
“One more thing,” he says. He leaves Meghan there, still dazed as if she’s two seconds away from falling into a hot boy coma. He spins away from her and grabs my hand, pulling me to him. Our chests collide. His hand roams over my hip, gripping me as his other hand fists in my hair, elongating my neck. Showing it off like it’s a precious metal. “Dakota is ours. She’s no longer your punching bag.” His hot breath filters over my skin. Fear turns to lust. Arousal awakens my body, starting from the curl of my toes all the way to my core. It continues in a sweep that hardens my nipples while Stone holds me against him. He leans over, grazing his lips across my cheek. I close my eyes, suddenly fully aware of how Meghan felt a second ago. His lips trail up the line of my cheek to my ear. “You...” he whispers. “…are so much better than them.”
He releases me, and I fall back to my feet. I blink. Stone’s already ten strides away, heading toward the exit of the cafeteria. Meghan looks like she wants to murder me, and the cafeteria is about as quiet as a church. I grab my new tray from Lucille while she’s still shocked and turn away from all of them. Wyatt’s laughter cackles through the room.
I don’t fight Lucas on wanting to eat outside now. In fact, I lead the way. We head toward a circular table that’s away from everyone else, and I sit, setting my tray down, but ignoring the food all together. Fuck me. I wanted Stone to kiss me. Me—my body—practically everything down to the cellular level, wanted him to do it. To just kiss me right there in front of the whole cafeteria.
My face burns. I’m sure what I looked like to everyone else. A dazed sex toy puppet, perhaps?
Lucas sits, which catapults me back to reality. He ignores his food, too. Instead, he runs his hands through his disheveled hair and levels me with a stare.
“What?” I ask, my voice coming out hollow. I’m astonished, turned on, and confused. It’s an interesting mix.
“I don’t think you understand how fucking sexy that just was.”
“What?” I ask again, though this time my voice is pitched much higher because he’s fucking crazy. No one has ever put me and sexy in the same sentence.
“You,” he says. “That pink in your cheeks. That stare.” He stands briefly, lips pressing together, and if I’m not mistaken, I’m pretty sure he rearranges himself. “Fuck,” he groans, breathing in deeply. “Do you know how much longer you might hate me for? Because I certainly don’t hate you.”
I sigh. “Lucas, don’t.”