Savage Me

Chapter 10: Kiss Me

I've been thinking about what Scout said all damn week.

"Connie."

I hated how his words had gotten to me.

"Connie."

I did not need fucking saving.

"Connie Anderson."

But why did it bother me so damn much?

"CONNIE!"

I jumped and looked down on Honor. "Yeah?"

She frowned. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "What's up?"

"I said lift the sign higher."

I followed her instructions. We were hanging up decorations for tonight's mixer with the Aces. Everyone, or more like every pledge, was busy with the preparations at the KPK house because it was the first Greek social mixer of the school year.

"There, that's it," said Honor. "Thanks."

Carefully, I climbed down the ladder and faced her. We were at the front steps of the house, where I just put up the banner for tonight's party.

This was probably the most casual I've ever seen her before. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun and she wore a fuzzy gray sweater paired with yoga pants and white sneakers. I was wearing the same thing, except I had on a black hoodie that was three sizes bigger than me (it was Alfie's).

"Are you nervous about tonight's mixer?" Honor asked me, watching my face.

"Not really, no."

"Ah." She nodded. "I just thought it's why you spaced out."

No, it was because of a stupid golden boy who thought he knew everything.

"I was thinking about something else," I muttered, hoping she would just drop it. I looked up and pretended to be interested on the banner. It was very sparkly.

She waited for me to say more. But when she realized I wasn't gonna spill, she spoke again. "How are things with you and that cute redhead?"

"We're good." I shrugged. "It's easier to go out with him 'cause we've known each other since we were kids," I admitted, inwardly realizing that fact myself.

Her eyes widened. "Is that why you picked him? Oh, that's just real sneaky." She laughed. "You fucking played me."

"No, I didn't," I said, laughing with her. If she only knew. "Swear jar!"

She shook her head in amusement. "You don't play fair, Connie Anderson," she added, walking inside the house.

"You didn't ask," I replied, following after her.

She nodded to several girls we passed before putting a dollar in the swear jar that was on top of the fireplace mantle in the living room. She stopped and looked over her shoulder to me. "I'm beat. Wanna hang in my room?"

"You mean your lair?" I teased.

She flashed me an evil smile. "Where else am I going to let you drink human blood?"

I couldn't help the laughter that broke out of me. "Just make sure it's fresh."

She chuckled as I followed her to the main hall and up to the stairs until the third floor, then we turned left. Her bedroom was the corner room with the view of the front lawn and parking lot at the side of the house.

Seriously, it was like I stepped into fucking Pinterest. The color scheme of this room was a combo of white, gray, and gold. Everything was so neat and tidy that I was actually afraid to touch anything. It was a far cry from the 'lair' I imagined.