Rex Montgomery—owner of said voice—reaches behind him and puts a protective hand on my hip. With everything that’s happening, my brain doesn’t seem to register the touch. It can’t, it’s too stunned that he of all people came to my rescue.
I mean, the man is a living work of art. At six-foot-four, Rex towers over damn near everyone at St. A’s. Teachers included. It’s a known fact that he played ice hockey at his last school, and rumor has it he’s already been drafted to go semi-pro next season. Needless to say, every inch of him is carved from gold. Not really, but I hear his muscles are drool worthy. Add to that near perfect body a strong jawline and an angled nose. Yeah, girls swoon just from hearing his name. I’ll admit, I might be one of them, sometimes, but never in public.
“Leave her alone,” he growls.
Tad snorts. “That’s cute. You are sticking up for the trash. This bitch doesn’t belong here, Rex. All girls like her are good for is a quick lay.”
“Fuck you,” I yell. Rex squeezes my hip, probably trying to be reassuring. Oddly enough, it works. A calm settles over me, releasing an unexpected smile.
What the heck is happening right now?
“Tell you what, you can take her into the boys bathroom first. When you’re done I’ll do my thing with her in the girl’s. My treat, Man.”
Without warning Rex swings, catching Tad off guard with a right hook to the eye. Rex moves like a shark. Agile. Quick. And with precision. He swings again, hitting with enough force to knock Tad back a step.
I stand there like an idiot. Mouth open. Eyes gaping as if this is the first time I’ve witnessed two boys throw down. I’ve seen fights before. Hell, my tattoo artist runs a backyard fight club once a month that once upon a time I used to go to.
But this is different.
The rage in Rex’s eyes is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It’s terrifying and unbelievably hot at the same time. I couldn’t tear my gaze away even if I tried.
Tad grunts and lunges forward, hitting Rex in the stomach with his shoulder, but he barely moves. Rex punches him in the side, once, twice, then slams his face onto his knee.
Tad falls to the ground, panting, blood seeping from his nose and a cut on his brow. He took a hell of a beating, and I have no clue how he’s still conscious. Must be all that practice getting his ass handed to him on the field. Defeated, he holds a hand up in surrender.
All of this is going on and I’m over here, less than three feet from the action, fighting the urge to jump up and down like a freaking cheerleader. Something has to be wrong with me today. I’ve never been the preppy ra-ra type. I’m more of a glare at you from a distance kind of girl. But watching Rex kick Tad’s ass has me feeling some kind of way.
“Since you were too stupid to listen the first time, I’ll tell you again. Piper’s closed for business,” Rex growls. “You will not stop her in the hallway or corner her when she’s alone. Your days of talking to or thinking about Piper are done. If I find you in the same room as her outside of class, I’ll kick your ass three ways from Sunday. Got it?”
All the bubbly feelings I had watching Rex kick Tad’s ass disappear. Reality smacks me in the face with a horde of questions.
What does Rex mean by the first time?
Is he the reason everyone has left me alone the last few weeks?
What the hell is going on!?
Tad spits blood onto the ground and nods. “Got it.”
“Good,” Rex says rising to his feet. “Now get the hell out of here before I beat the living shit out of you again.”
I watch Rex while he watches Tad walk away, guarding me until that low-life is out of sight.
Rex turns. His dark brown hair, short on the sides but long enough to run your fingers through on top, blows in the rare Florida breeze like a damn shampoo commercial. Under normal circumstances I’d make fun of him for it but I’m too stunned to speak. My mind’s still tripping over the fact that he saved me. That he touched me and that my pulse is racing faster than a greyhound from the way he is still looking at me.
“Are you okay?” Rex takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger to examine my face. My breath catches. Not because I’m anxious, but because the feeling of impending doom isn’t there. There’s no tightness in my chest or nervous shakes. No needles shooting down my spine or fuzziness in my head. Instead, there’s an electric current pulsating between us that I’ve never felt before, similar to my anxiety needles yet different.
“I’m fine.” I’m not fine. My skin’s on fire, the space between my legs aches, and I’m a confused mess. Rex is the first person to touch me this year who doesn’t send my body into shock. His skin on mine should ignite a catalyst of crippling reactions. Instead, heat spreads from my cheeks down to my core. Awakening parts of me I thought died long ago.
Rex drops his hand. Deep blue’s study me, combing over every feature, making my insecurities bubble up. The bags under my eyes. The scars on my arms, some hidden beneath a colorful tattoo, others still visible to all who look beneath a dozen rubber bracelets.
“Wanna get out of here?” He asks with zero traces of hidden innuendo.
Another first. The only time guys—who aren’t the Harris twins—talk to me is to ask for a favor. An unfortunate hazard of my reputation.
Please don’t let Rex ask a favor.
“Piper?”