Page 153 of Cruel Steps

“Professor Garcia believes so. Besides, if you’re not scared, it shouldn’t matter. Right?” He opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it shut. “Can’t refute my logic, huh?”

“Fine. I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll do something that scares me if you do something as well.”

“Not sure what there is, but okay.”

He grinned, and I worried I’d stepped right into a trap. He pulled a wrinkled piece of purple paper out of his pocket and handed it to me. I smoothed it out as we walked, my eyes taking in every word.

Seeking choreographers for an upcoming dance competition. Prepare three routines to show a range of styles in contemporary, hip-hop, and jazz.

My heart raced, and butterflies filled my belly. This was… reality crashed in, and I shook my head. “I’m not a choreographer.”

“Bullshit. You want it, Wildcat. I saw your face. That’s the deal. I’ll enter if you do.”

Biting my lip, I looked at the deadline. It was next month. I could do that. Ideas started to form in my head, along with songs I wanted to use, and the steps came to life.

“I believe in you, Wildcat. Give yourself a shot.”

“Okay.”

Holden smiled and picked me up to swing around. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

It was hard not to believe when he did so fiercely.

We headed into the library with big smiles on our faces. Holden kissed me before waving to Colter. He said something to the librarian before grabbing his stuff and meeting me at the elevator.

“How was your day, Merbear?” He wrapped me in his arms, and I rested my head against his chest.

“Weird. People talked to me.”

He chuckled, and we stepped onto the elevator. “Do people not usually talk to you?”

“Not really. But this was different. This girl Lydia spoke to me like I hung the moon. She’s happy I’m on the Homecoming court.”

“I’ve heard similar things all day. The gossip is buzzing on campus.”

I’d thought it was strange that girls stayed friends with Colter after hooking up. At first, I assumed they were lying and just hoping he’d want more. But then I had lunch with him and a few of the girls, and it was clear they only saw him as a friend now. It eased some of my jealousy and made me smug that I got him all to myself.

When we got to our floor—the one we’d coined as ours since we seemed to be the only ones who used it—we spread out our books on the table. We liked to use the back table near the window, giving us a good view of campus. I needed to finish my work for my Independent Study and study for my Astronomy midterm, but after twenty minutes of sitting there, I lost focus. So, I watched Colter while he studied instead.

“You’re staring,” he said, not taking his eyes off the book he was reading.

“You’re prettier to look at than astronomy.”

Out of all my midterms, I dreaded that one the most. The professor didn’t follow the syllabus at all and often went on tangents during class, not covering any of the material. It made studying difficult when you didn’t know what to focus on. Add in the fact that he only gave two tests, the midterm and final, they counted for a lot.

“Comparing me to balls of gas, so romantic, Mer.”

Snorting, I returned to my notes, reviewing what I’d outlined on the syllabus. Colter’s hand landed on my thigh, pulling my focus. His gaze stayed on his book, his other hand writing down something in his notebook. I admired his skill because there was no way I could do it. His finger skimmed over my pussy, my leggings providing a barrier to his touch. Spreading my legs, I scooted down in my chair. I caught one side of his smile lifting, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

I pretended to write, but the only marks my pencil made were scribbles. Colter’s hand lifted to my waistband and snuck under it. My breath caught as he ghosted his fingers over my panties. I wanted to be embarrassed by the wet patch, but I wasn’t. Colter made a groaning sound deep in his throat before pressing in.

My head fell back, my breaths erratic as he touched me with expert skill. I was so lost in his touch that I didn’t hear the person until they were almost upon us. I snapped my head up and grabbed my pen just as Jenny approached. I expected Colter to remove his hand, but he didn’t.

“Hey! I didn’t think anyone else used this floor.” She dropped her bag on the table as I tried to remember how to form words. Colter continued to flick my clit, not caring we had an audience.

“Oh, um, yeah, floor,” I spluttered, my face heating.

“You okay?” she asked.

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