His tongue trails from the side of my chin to the corner of my mouth. I'm frozen on spot, barely breathing. When he pulls away, his eyes are the same shimmering silver I had seen the other night. My breathing spikes, and his eyes dart to my mouth. B...
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— 15 —
I stare at my ceiling absently, not really paying attention to the smooth white. One part of my mind is listening for Cassadee, waiting for her to come up here ranting about a car waiting outside so I know when Leon and the others are here, the other part is focused on Chase.
Usually, when I come home, my wonderful sister harps on my appearance, criticising everything—my hair, my outfit, my skin, my makeup (or lack thereof)—but instead, she decided to interrogate me. "Is Chase single? How old is he? Do you know where he lives? Why did he come here? What subject does he teach?" On and on, the questions never seemed to end. It was like she had taken Mother's personal handbook on how to get a guy to be interested and the first chapter involved gathering as much information as possible before planning an attack. That's not what bothers me, however—Mother and Cassadee always use me as their information guzzle since they're not smart enough to do it themselves. What bothers me is how much I don't want her to know. The entire time, I didn't want to tell her anything. Mostly, I just gave her noncommittal gestures, pretending I didn't know, which earned me one or two backhands. Neither did much damage (Cassadee hits a lot like Mother—all brute force with nothing to back it up—so it only stung for a moment before numbing), but they did leave a nice red mark that lasted a half hour. When she realized she wasn't getting anything from me, she gave up, grumbling plans under her breath. All I got from them was something about "mysteriously running into him at the school," so I guessed she was going to invade my school and pretend to be pick me up or something.
I sigh, covering my eyes with my arm.
Just thinking about it is irritating, more irritating than usual, which is saying something for those two. Maybe I should've done more to make them believe he's taken. After all, he's an attractive guy, right? It's not like it's that hard to believe someone like him would have someone in his life. In fact, it's harder to believe he doesn't have someone in his life. Even flings like Calvin has would make more sense than nothing at all.
You shouldn't touch unknown substances, Ms. Tyler.
Maybe one day you'll find out.
Of course, it might be impossible for people to get past how cryptic and nosy he is.
Suddenly, someone honks three times, pulling me from my contemplating, and I sit up to look out the window. Sure enough, Leon's truck is sitting in front of my house, waiting for me. I can see Calvin and Trent in the back bed and figure Nikki, Whit, and TJ are in the truck.
Closing my curtains, I head to the bathroom, double checking my appearance in the mirror. Because they don't want me to be recognized, I have to wear a horrid disguise, leaving me with a long-haired brunette wig—it's actually uncanny how close the light brown is to my natural color. Instead of a hoodie and jeans, I'm in a blue, long-sleeve galaxy dress that fits like a glove and a pair of black leggings. Thankfully, I'm allowed to wear ankle lace-up boots, better than the heels Nikki wanted, and zero to no make-up.
