Page 37 of Forbidden Lessons

Her legs are up, knees by her chest. She’s gripping the bench beneath her like she needs the support.

Those blue eyes are wide, fearful, but determined.

“I’ll scream,” she says bluntly.

I thought about a lot of things last night when I was slamming back shots of whiskey and working my way through a six-pack of beer. Like what if she came back to school? I laughed it off, had another shot, and then remembered the feeling I had when I saw her yesterday, after warning her off the first time.

That initial shock, then the anger, then the cold, boiling hatred.

As much as it hurt, I forced myself to dig into the past, sifting through the sun-soaked, shade-dappled memories of our childhood together.

We’d known each other for years before I moved out of that trailer park in Riverside.

I understood Haven. And she understood me.

We gave each other what we wanted, until what we wanted became too big an ask.

I walk closer, and she opens her mouth, but there must be something on my face she doesn’t like because she hesitates, remains silent, watching and waiting even as I lean forward and rest my palms on the table.

“You like this, don’t you?” I murmur. “That’s why you keep coming back for more.”

A crease appears between her dark eyebrows, her lips slowly sealing.

I slide my hands over the polished wood as I take a seat on the edge of the bench. She leans away, but her ass stays right where it is as she watches me uneasily.

“I’m the only Hillsider who’ll dare sit this close to you.”

Haven’s eyelashes flutter, then a touch of color bleeds into her cheeks. “You fucking arrogant pri?—”

I make a grab for her, and it must take her by surprise, because she barely moves before I’ve got my hand latched to the back of her neck. She gasps, her eyes squeezing shut at my touch only to fly open a second later so she can glare at me.

She hunches her shoulders, drawing her legs even closer to her body.

“That’s why you don’t want to leave, isn’t it?” I purr, using my other hand to brush a strand of hair out of her face. “You must have thought you hit the fucking jackpot when they gave you that grant. You’re nothing but a sad charity case.”

Pride floods her eyes, making them sparkle. “I got that grant on merit, not because of pity.”

My laugh makes her cheeks grow even redder. “Please, Heavenly. They took one look at your sorry ass and saw the perfect poster child. The tragedy of such a pretty girl trapped in the slums of Riverside. Every time she tries to crawl her way out, she just keeps falling back in the shit.”

Her slap catchesmeoff guard.

Then she’s dragging my fingers off her neck and scrambling to get out of the bench. I grab her arm, she tears it free. But she’s caught when I snag the back of her shirt and twist the fabric, dragging it tight against her body.

She twists and starts slapping at my hand, but I pull at her shirt, dragging the two of us together over the leather bench. Her body goes stiff when our thighs crash into each other.

As soon as she opens her mouth, I know she’s going to scream.

I recognize that sudden shift from angry to terrified. But my hand muffles the sound, just as I resist her struggles with an arm slung around her waist.

We’re facing each other like lovers, and if it wasn’t for the hand on her mouth, it might have looked to any bystanders that we were about to kiss.

I came so close to it last night.

What the fuck possessed me to lick apple pie off her face, I don’t know, but Christ, it was a struggle not to turn that weird act into something else. Her skin felt so soft under my tongue, and even now, I can feel those pillowy lips pressed to my palm.

“Listen real hard, Miss H,” I whisper, pressing the tip of my nose against hers for a moment before pressing our cheeks together as I move my mouth to her ear. “It’s time you stopped pretending I don’t know you. Therealyou.”

There’s a muffled sound, maybe a protest, maybe something else. I’m enjoying the feel of her body pressed to mine too much to draw away so I can look into her eyes.

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