Red Thorns (Thorns Duet 1)

She’s my bestie and I love her, but she needs to drop the pacifying manner where everyone needs to come out as the winner.

Once it’s only Reina and me, it’s like the walls are slowly closing in on me. Still, I summon my bravado. “What now? Are you going to threaten to kick me off the team?”

“Why Sebastian?”

Her question takes me completely by surprise. The way she speaks is detached, cool-headed, which is what I’ve always loathed about her. Or maybe admired, as Akira eloquently put it.

I’m so surprised that it takes me some time to answer. “What type of question is that?”

“One that’s simple enough. You always put yourself one step ahead of everyone, so how come you’re falling for Sebastian?”

“I’m not falling for him!”

“I might believe that if I hadn’t seen the way you look at him. It’s like you’ve waited your entire life for him.”

Shit. Shit. “That’s not true.”

“And now, you’re just denying it and it’s pissing me off.”

“Oh, I’m pissing you off? Good. So how about you take the hint and leave me alone?”

“You can easily get rid of me if you tell me, why him?”

“I didn’t really have a choice. He pestered me.”

“So you wouldn’t have agreed under different circumstances?”

“Of course not. He’s a shallow quarterback with nothing behind his physical appearance. He’s not my type.”

She smiles as her gaze breaks from mine and flits behind me. “Hear that, Bastian? You’re not the lady’s type.”

I swallow as his scent invades my nostrils. Reina gives me a condescending stare before she steps past me into class.

Wincing, I turn around to face him. His features are a makeshift mix of emotions I’m unable to peer through.

In my attempt to shove Reina off my back, I spoke against the thoughts I hold in my very core.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper. He doesn’t usually come to our department.

He reaches into his pocket and gets out a bottle of apple juice, my favorite, and throws it in my direction. I catch it between clammy fingers as his detached voice wraps a noose around my throat. “I thought I’d come see you since we didn’t have lunch together. I was in for a surprise, apparently.”

“About what you heard…”

“Oh, you mean the fact that I’m a shallow quarterback, who’s not your type?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Do you always say what you don’t mean?”

Yes, and that’s why he calls me Tsundere. But there’s nothing playful about him right now. If anything, he seems to have taken it personally.

And I hate that, somehow.

I especially hate the monotone way he’s speaking to me. As the beast, he’s all growly, rough, and demanding. As the man, he’s witty and playful. An asshole sometimes, but never this closed off.

When I don’t say anything, he turns around and leaves.

“Wait…” I stumble over my words but can’t find the right ones.