His lips trail down my neck, sending shivers all over.
"I love looking at you," he breathes, brushing the hair off my shoulders. "Will you let me look at you?"
My heart hammers, a wild thing seeking his. "Yes."
So he does. And I feel it. For a long...
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NOAH
The white flakes are falling like a thick, quiet blanket, muffling the world in cold white. We're buttoned up tight with coats and scarves, but no gloves.
Fuck that.
I'm skipping class for this. So is Fox.
I'm mad. No—I'm fucking livid.
Fox, on the other hand, is calm. He's waiting, hands in his pockets, for the time we called in for. He's watching those sleek black glass doors, each body in, each one out.
"Calm down, Noah," he finally says, his voice low and even.
I nod, too pissed off to speak. My fists clench and unclench inside my gloves, my nails digging into my palms through the fabric. I can't get the image of Dylan out of my head—the way Cam described him, the way he cornered her. The way he grabbed her. My jaw aches from how hard I'm grinding my teeth.
I read the sign posted on the window for the fifth time.
WANTED: TRAINERS, INSTRUCTORS, COACHES FOR FITNESS. SIXPOSITIONS ARE AVAILABLE. LEAVE RESUMES AT THE FRONT DESK.
Seem's like Fire Base lost more than just one employee.
Cam told us everything this morning—about that fucking asshole Dylan, about what went down in the staff room, about how Leo fired her like it was no big deal.
My girl head-butted the guy. But it's not enough. For me, it's nowhere near enough.
After Cam offloaded what happened, she said she was sorry—sorry for spreading the pain, sorry that I was going to hurt for her, that it wasn't fair—then came up, kissed me softly, and left for her classes.
Something's wrong. Really, really wrong. But Fox pulled me in for this before I even had time to think.
Fox shifts on his feet, snow crunching under his boots. "Stick to the plan. If you deviate—"
"I won't," I manage to spit out.
"Stand still and maybe I'll believe you."
I crack my neck and try to stop moving, twitching, pacing. It's difficult. All I know is that I want to break something, and I want it to be that guy's face.
Fox turns to me, his dark eyes locking onto mine. "Go over it again."
I huff, my throat tight with frustration. "I can't afford to lay a hand on anyone, you can."
"Right."
Fox knows what our world is like. Most cops see the colour of my skin before anything else. Fox knows he's got more on his side—race, money, and a fucking brother in the police department.
