Slamming Demon (Pounding Hearts 2)

He called and tried to text me but I never responded back.

I was being a complete immature bitch and he didn’t deserve it

. I just needed some time and space to think, and I couldn’t do it unless I totally disconnected myself from him. The whole pregnancy scare was a real eye-opener and completely scared the shit out of me. I didn’t know what I wanted, but it was time to figure it the fuck out.

The only time I couldn’t avoid Brett was when it came to World History class. I knew I’d have to face him then, and I couldn’t figure a way out of it without outright skipping class, and unfortunately it was too close to graduation to start fucking around. So it was no surprise when I walked into the classroom to find him already there. And he looked totally pissed off by the way his brows pulled down and he glared at me.

“Mandy,” Brett hissed as I decided to skip taking my usual seat and instead chose a desk far away from him.

“What the fuck?” he said standing up and stomping up to the desk next to me.

I felt ashamed, I truly did. I knew my actions were cowardly and I was behaving childishly. It was hard to even look Brett in the eye, but when I did get a closer look I felt even worse. He looked as if he hadn’t slept all week.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy,” I murmured as I pulled my book and things out of my backpack.

“You could have at least responded to me.”

I glanced at him quickly out of the corner of my eye. He was sitting sideways in his chair, leaning close to me. Yanking my phone out of my purse, I unlocked it with a swipe and pretended to check something important. “Sorry.”

“Fuck,” Brett cursed just as Ms. Henry walked in.

“What was that Mr. Fitzpatrick?” Ms. Henry asked Brett, giving him her notorious stink-eye.

“Nothing,” Brett growled and slumped back in his chair.

Ms. Henry gave a sharp nod of her head and then turned to me. “Miss Taylor, please put your phone away.” She waited until I pouted and slipped it back into my purse then she tapped over to her desk and started class.

I squirmed and shifted uncomfortably in my seat because I could feel Brett glaring at me the entire time, and I swear he was scooting his desk closer to mine. I eyed the clock, preparing my things five minutes before the bell was supposed to ring, meaning to make a quick getaway. Just as the bell rang, both Brett and I jumped up at the same time.

“Mandy, we need to talk.”

It was my turn to say, “Fuck.”

“Miss Taylor!” Ms. Henry said shrilly.

“I’m sorry!” I called out. I was saying an awful lot of sorry’s lately. Ms. Henry snorted but otherwise dismissed me with a nod of her head. I threw my backpack over my shoulder while dropping my chin and rushed out of the classroom.

“So you’re just going to run away from me, Mandy?” Brett said following close on my heels.

“I’m not running away from you,” I said over my shoulder.

Brett grabbed me by the elbow and spun me around to face him. I gaped at him while his eyes scanned my face as if he was searching for something. “Why are you avoiding me? What have I done?”

My eyes narrowed and I frowned unhappily, yanking my elbow back. “You haven’t done anything.”

“Then why won’t you even talk to me? You can barely stand looking at me.”

Standing in the middle of the hallway, we were creating a scene, and it felt like everyone around us was starting to take notice.

My cheeks flamed and I shook my head. “It’s not you, it’s me. I just need some space after what happened. Can we talk about this after school?”

I turned my face and glared at Stacey Baker who was snickering to her group of friends and pointing at us. “It’s no one else’s business.”

“Are you going to talk to me after school or are you just going to run off again?”

I sighed and I hated the way Brett was looking at me. I’d hurt him and I didn’t want to hurt him. I needed time and space because I didn’t want to hurt him, but I was making a mess of everything and it was all going to shit.

I couldn’t look at Brett because it physically hurt to look at him. He was so fucking handsome, I just wanted to throw my arms around him and hug him to death. I loved him, I truly madly deeply fucking loved him.