Page 26 of The Gamma's Second Chance

I stare at him as he saunters towards me, hands in the pockets of his gym shorts. He stops a few steps away from me, face expectant as he gazes down at me, waiting for me to reply. My heart skips a beat and my palms sweat. The twisted knots of desire and confusion curl tighter inside me. Is he… flirting with me?

Nope. I can’t overthink right now. Not after the dream I just had. I need to get out of here, get us back to civilization so I don’t do something stupid, like act on my unreciprocated lust.

My tongue darts out to wet my dry lips, and I take off down the path. “Race me and find out!” I shout over my shoulder, keeping a steady, quick pace.

His heavier footsteps follow me almost instantly, and he catches up to me with ease, overtaking me in seconds. But I push myself faster, having no trouble keeping up with him as we run back to the town, exactly like that day all those years ago when we first met.

Chapter 9

NOLAN

I’m convinced Cassandra isstalking me.

Not only did she “happen” to run into me at my favorite spot on the mountain, but she also sits directly behind me in the theater seats at every rehearsal.

At first, I thought it was a coincidence. Just me reading too much into something. But then I started moving around, sitting in a different seat and a different row than my usual to see if she’d move too.

And she did.

Every rehearsal.

That’s when I realized it was no mere coincidence. It was intentional.

I’m not sure what her end game is. I don’t know if she’s spying on me or if she’s doing it to push my buttons.

All I know is I’ve been staring at the same damn line of coding for this new computer program since this rehearsal started, and I’ve not made any headway on this project. Because all I can think about is her sitting right behind me, nose buried in her book.

“Fuck it,” I say under my breath, shutting my laptop after saving the file. I toss it back into my bag and grab my phone instead, prepared to distract myself with a mindless game. But I catch Cassandra’s reflection in the darkened screen of my phone, and I can’t bring myself to unlock it and start a game because her image will vanish.

She’s so captivating. I can’t deny it. All the little things I insisted drove me crazy are now the things I can’t stop thinking about, the traits that are slowly luring me in. Like a siren to an unwary sailor, she’s ensnared me with her charismatic smiles, her charming daisies, her beguiling personality, and the delightful dresses she always wears.

Today, she’s in a pink floral one, with laces up the back, cinching her waist slightly and pushing her breasts a little higher into the curving neckline of the bodice. Her shiny, silky brown hair—normally curled and down—is up in a high, straight ponytail, drawing more focus to her cheekbones and her bow-shaped lips.

My dick twitches as my eyes linger on those lips, and thoughts I shouldn’t think flash through my mind. Thoughts of her on her knees in front of me, her tongue darting out to wet those pretty pink lips as she prepares herself to take my cock in her mouth. She’d stare up at me, her eyes wide and framed by those gorgeous long lashes, and I’d wrap that ponytail around my fist and yank it just hard enough to tilt her head so she’s at the perfect angle for me to slide my dick between her parted, waiting lips…

Damn it. I can’t think of her like that. She doesn’t want me. Hell, I don’t think she even likes me all that much. I wouldn’t like me either if I were her. I’ve been mostly rude to her, sending her mixed signals and pushing her away when all I want to do is keep her close and do all the things to her I know I can’t. Like fucking her mouth or kissing up the length of her long legs, my hands cupping and massaging her ass the entire time I devour her pussy, bringing her to a screaming orgasm.

I drop my phone into my lap and rest my head in my hand, my fingers massaging my forehead. What the fuck is wrong with me?

She’s not doing anything other than sitting there, and yet she’s all I can focus on.

I shift slightly in my seat to adjust my dick and glance at her out of the corner of my eye without her knowing, to get a better glimpse of her than what my darkened phone screen depicted.

Except she’s looking right at me, lips tipped into a tiny smirk.

Goddess, damn it.

“Nolie,” she says, shutting her book but keeping her index finger inside to hold her place.

“Daisy,” I reply, the moniker slipping from my lips before I can stop myself.

Her brow lifts at my use of the nickname I promised myself I would never actually say out loud to her, but she says nothing to me about it. “Did you need something?” she asks.

“What are you reading today?” Maybe a change in topic will help with the… difficult… situation happening in my pants right now. And I can’t see the title, but I can tell it’s not the mafia romance book I defaced and replaced. She finished that one a while ago and has read at least two more physical books since then, and probably even more digital books.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone read as much or as fast as she does.

Her cheeks turn pink, and she glances around the theater, avoiding my eyes at all costs. “‘Puck it All.’”

---