The Wild Mustang & The Dancing Fairy (St. Mary’s Rebels 1.5)

His gaze comes back to me, all belligerent. “What friend?”

“From dance. Her brother was picking her up and she said that she could drop me here. It was on her way back.”

His gaze grows even unfriendlier. “Her brother.”

“Yeah. You know him. He’s a senior too. Jonathan Andrews.”

This piece of information makes Reed’s jaw so tight that I have to bite my lip at the force.

“Andrews gave you a ride.”

“Yes. I’ve talked to him some and he seems nice. He’s in the drama club and –”

“Fuck drama club. And fuck Jonathan Andrews.” His nostrils flare. “You’re going to stay away from him.”

“What?”

“Stay away. From him,” he growls angrily.

“Why?”

“Because he’s got a fucking hard-on for you. That’s why.”

Is that why he agreed so easily?

To not only give me a ride but also to keep it a secret at school. Sophie, his sister, isn’t going to be so accommodating, I know. But I’ll deal with that later.

My only aim was to get to Reed.

I blink. “I didn’t… He didn’t… He was just trying to help me.”

Reed shifts on his feet as if getting ready to do battle. “Yeah, I don’t think so. What he was trying to do was lay down the groundwork so he could make a play for you later. So you stay away from him, you understand? He’s a fucking asshole.”

“And if I don’t?”

His chest pushes out then and again I can see the carved muscles of his pecs, his ribs shifting under his t-shirt, making him look even more dangerous than usual.

I think the hoodie takes away from his danger, cloaks it in false softness.

Without it, he’s all dense muscles and hard bones.

His hands are fisted, veins standing out on his wrists and the backs of his hands. “Then I’m going to fuck him up so badly that he won’t be able to drive for the rest of his life.”

I hug my backpack tightly and rub my arms, trying to chase away the goosebumps that arose at his threatening, possessive tone.

Trying to not lose my breaths all at once.

“You sound like my brothers,” I say. “When they talk about you.”

“For once, I agree with them.” His glowing eyes narrow. “Although what I’d like to know is where in the fuck were they when you were getting into Andrews’s car? How could they let this happen? What goddamn use are they if they can’t keep you safe?”

My thighs clench together and I tell him in a breathless tone, “They don’t know. I texted Con and told him that I’d be staying late as usual. He thinks I’m at the auditorium practicing like I always do.”

I did.

It was easy too.

He was expecting it even, after weeks and weeks of lying and telling him that I needed extra hours for practice.

I did need those hours.

But mostly it was because I wanted to spend them with him.

This guy who’s glaring at me and who I knew wouldn’t be showing up at my practice like he usually does.

“So, you lied to them,” he concludes. “Again.”

I nod. “I wanted to come see you.”

And in this moment, I realize that even though I hate lying to my brothers and keeping secrets from them, I’ll still do it. I’ll still lie for him now and forever.

I’ll lie and hide. I’ll seek and run and stop.

I’ll go wherever he is.

“You’ve become quite the liar, huh? For me.”

“I –”

“I think you should go,” he commands in a low, determined voice.

His words make me move.

But I don’t do what he tells me to do.

I don’t leave.

I walk toward him, bridging the distance between us.

“Did you fucking hear what I just said to you?” he asks, agitated, watching me walk toward him.

I don’t answer. I just keep walking, my backpack in hand, my eyes on his gorgeous face. Gorgeous and familiar and so achingly dear to me.

“Go home,” he growls, and I keep ignoring him.

And when I finally, finally reach him, his face dips and his words become thick. “Get the fuck away from me, Fae.”

Does he know that even when he’s being all growly and stubborn and an idiot like he is being right now, he still calls me Fae?

His fairy.

And if he does that, calls me by the name he’s given me, how can I ever leave?

How can I ever stop my heart from flip-flopping in my chest when I crane my neck to look up at him, at his tall form?

I shake my head. “No.”

“What part of you should go now don’t you understand? I’m –”

“I brought first aid. For your injuries.” I speak over him.

“I don’t need your fucking first aid.”

I knew he’d say that.

So I say something else that I wanted to say. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“For what Ledger said.” I take a step closer to him, to his heat, to his violently breathing chest. “He provoked you and he shouldn’t have done that. You were leaving.”