Page 91 of Wicked Games

She only has time to raise her eyebrow, and then I’m off. I weave through the tables, stomping right up to Caleb. I’ll have none of that bullshit with Savannah, Amelie,anyone.

“Hey.” I catch Savannah’s attention. Caleb’s gaze hasn’t left me, but I surprise her.

“Margo!” She puts her hand on Caleb’s arm. “We were just?—”

“Back off.” I grab her by her wrist and fling it away.

“Excuse—”

“Yeah, excuse you,” I snap.

I’m boiling over. Shetouchedhim like—like?—

I’m about two seconds away from punching her in the face.

“Easy, little wolf.” Caleb snags me around my waist and pulls me between his legs. His fingers stroke up and down my thigh casually, but it doesn’t help ease the fire burning in me.

Savannah stares at us like we’ve grown three heads.

“He’s mine,” I reiterate.

I look her up and down slowly. All she did was want to replace Amelie. It shouldn’t have surprised me that she took over Amelie’s underhanded bitchiness, too.

Once a mean girl, always a mean girl.

Caleb kisses my temple. His lips twitch, and I’d bet he’s barely hanging on to his passive expression. He’s enjoying this, the bastard. He probably let Sav stayjustclose enough to get a rise out of me.

My ex-friend glares at me, but she seems to get the hint when Caleb’s other hand winds around me. His arm fits snugly just under my breasts, locking me against his chest.

She slowly backs away, into her group of cheer friends. They’re all staring at Caleb and me, but I don’t give a fuck.

His fingers are inching higher along my bare skin, touching the hem of my skirt and moving back down.

I scowl over my shoulder. “What was that?”

He grins. “I like seeing your possessive side.”

“If she so much as touches you?—”

“No one will.” He grips my chin when I try to look away. “Hear this, Margo. I don’t take your promise lightly. Our game is between you and me.”

“That didn’t stop you before,” I whisper.

Something flashes across his face, but I don’t recognize the emotion. “That was then. And while you were always mine…”

Yeah, I didn’t want anything to do with his crazy ass. But now I do.

God help us.

He kisses my lips, then releases me. “Tell whoever your ride home is that I’m stealing you away after school.”

I nod, unable to speak. Part of me still hates him, and I don’t know how to grapple with the loathing that rises like bile in my throat. It comes out of nowhere.

I step away from him and clear my throat. “I’ll see you later.”

The rest of the day, I have the inexplicable urge to avoid him. Except, he’s everywhere. Leaning over my chair in first period, his lips on my shoulder. Watching me move down the hall with Riley after second period, then third. Haunting my locker before fourth.

And I know, I justknow, he’ll be waiting for me before lunch. I duck out of the class five minutes early, claiming to have cramps—it shuts up the teacher nicely—and hide in the bathroom outside the computer lab until the bell rings.

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