So I slam my lips together, spin on my heels, and throw my tray on top of the bin before marching out the door. I can still feel his stare piercing my back, but I don’t care. I’m not gonna stay there and be humiliated in front of the entire school.
But I still have class today. I can’t go home and get another shirt. There’s only one other solution; clean it with water and pray it comes out.
I rush into the teacher’s bathroom and open the faucet, leaning in to carefully hold my shirt underneath the running water. It’s definitely gonna be cold, but if I can clean this well enough maybe it won’t leave a stain.
Suddenly the door opens, and I jolt up and down from the surprise.
Especially when my eyes find his. Cole followed me here.
“What are you doing in here?” I bark, turning away from the faucet.
His eyes dart at my wet shirt, which clings to my skin, and I immediately cover it with my hand.
“Did you forget again?” he muses, walking up to me in such an overpowering way that I back up as far as I can until I hit the wall. He leans in, smiling at me with that familiar half-smile of his, before whispering. “Teacher’s bathroom pass. And it’s unisex.”
Fuck. I hate how he says the word ‘unisex,’ so full of himself, so … raunchy.
“No worries,” he says, and he turns toward the faucet, giving me a second to catch my breath. “I didn’t forget.”
He throws his jacket onto the counter and pulls off his tie. Then he starts unbuttoning his shirt. One by one, each of the buttons come off, making me gulp even harder as more skin is revealed. The fabric slides off his shoulders with ease, but then he turns his head and looks right at me, the penetrative stare boring into my soul.
My cheeks immediately heat as I attempt to look away, but it’s hard because he’s literally right in my face and those tattoo-covered muscles … boy, they’re in a whole different league of their own.
He smiles, shaking his head, and proceeds to wash his shirt under the running water. A few droplets splash onto his perfect skin. When he turns around to face me in all his half-naked glory, I gulp, and I swear to God, he could hear it because that fucking smirk appears again … the one he’s given me so many times when he caught me in the act.
“Are you done?” I ask.
He raises a brow. “Are you?” He approaches me again. “Because all I know is that you never stop running into me.”
“Running into you?” I scoff. “It was an accident. Those happen.”
“Not that often,” he replies, getting closer and closer again. “So I’m thinking … what if it isn’t a coincidence?”
“It is,” I growl back. “An unfortunate one too.”
“Really? Because your eyes don’t say what your mouth is saying, Mo.”
“Stop calling me that,” I hiss.
He leans in and plants a hand on the wall beside my head, trapping me inside. “Why can’t I call you Mo, Mo?”
“It’s a name reserved for friends,” I reply in all seriousness even though he’s messing with me. Again.
“Ouch … That hurts, Mo …” He grabs his heart with his free hand. “Almost enough to make me care.”
My stomach churns. “Why are you doing this? Do you enjoy taunting me?”
He wets his lip with his tongue. “Maybe … Or maybe I want to find out what makes you …” He taps my chest with one finger. “Tick.”
“Why? Why do you care so much?” I ask, my lips shuddering when he leans in so close that I can feel his breath on my skin.
A tepid, angered smile appears on his face, one that makes my heart stop.
“The question is … why don’t you?” he whispers, the tension between us almost visible with the naked eye, crackling in the air. He bites his lip, right where I left my mark the last time he tried to kiss me. “You pretend you don’t like it when I look at you. You pretend you don’t care when you see me play … but you want me.” He brushes along my cheek with the back of his hand in such an addictive way that I almost want to give in. “Admit it … You loved it when I kissed you … and you wanted more.”
His hand slides down my shirt, down along my nipples, which immediately peak from the attention, and I gasp in response. He’s never been this direct, this bold, and it literally takes my breath away when he grabs my waist and pulls me closer to him.
“Tell me I’m wrong … tell me I’m lying …” he whispers into my ear, his hand diving underneath my skirt. He’s unrelenting as he slides up my thighs and pulls at my panties, tugging them down in one go. His hand cups my pussy, and my eyes almost roll into the back of my head as he starts fondling me without hesitation.