Page 413 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

She slumps a little on her stool, watching warily as I go through her room. I search everywhere—under the bed, in her nightstand drawer, under her mattress. Her walk-in closet gets a thorough inspection too, all while I keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t move.

I don’t find any booze, but I do find her science test in her backpack. “Were you drunk when you took this?” I ask, holding up the paper so the F is clear.

“Fuck you,” she mutters.

I roll the paper up and tap it into my palm as I stare at her from across the room. “This thing with Eliza isn’t going to happen,” I tell her.

She blinks at me like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Excuse me?”

“Marissa’s fine, but Eliza is bad news.”

Harper rushes to her feet. “You really think I give a fuck what you?—!”

I put a finger to my lips again. She trails off, sullen anger glowing in her eyes as I go to close the door. When I turn back, she’s on her feet, her hands fisted at her side.

“Do you really think this is negotiable?” I ask her.

She says nothing, but the tightening around her mouth makes me think she’s starting to get a fucking clue. I stalk over to her, but I force myself not to touch her. That would be too dangerous. Too easy for me to lose control again like I did out there by the bleachers. So I just tower over her, close enough to feel the heat of her body, close enough to smell her hair.

“There will be no dinner next week. Eliza won’t be part of thisprojectof yours.” I lift my hand and then drop it again without pushing back the chunk of hair hanging beside her face like I wanted to. But Harper shifts like I touched her anyway, her lips plumping out as she lets out the breath she must have been holding. “You will focus on your grades, and you will focus on staying sober. Do you understand me?”

I hold her icy stare for a long time, but eventually she glances away and mumbles, “Yes.”

“I can’t hear you.”

“Yes, Jude.” She looks at me again. The fury in her eyes makes my cock twitch behind my sweats. “I understand youperfectly.”

I don’t like the tone of her voice. I’d have preferred a meek response, not something as passive-aggressive as this.

But my dick is still hardening, and I have to get out of here before I decide to stick it somewhere it doesn’t belong. I can’t fight the urge anymore, though. I tuck back that chunk of hair,my fingertip thrilling at the silky feel, and drop my head until our mouths are less than an inch apart.

“Good girl,” I murmur.

I don’t look back as I leave, not even when I take the key out of her door and pocket it. If I want to do a surprise inspection, I’m not going to give her a chance to hide her shit away first.

There’s no honor system here—Harper will have toearnthat kind of trust.

Chapter 29

Jude

I check in on Harper on Sunday too, but I decide to do it earlier in the day when Dad and Diana are out with Rosie. I was flabbergasted when Diana asked if me and Harper wanted to join them at the movies—not just that she’daskedbut because they were taking Rosie with them. I almost went with...but I hate animated movies. I endure them at home when Rosie asks me to watch the first bit of Moana with her, but I can’t handle a full film in the theater.

Harper doesn’t go either, and the only reason for that is so she can get up to mischief. So I wait her out to see what she does or where she goes...but she doesn’t even leave her bedroom. About an hour after our parents leave, I slip into her room. I expect to see her on her bed, reading or texting on her phone. Maybe even doing homework by her dresser. But her room is empty.

Fuck! Did she climb out the window?

I rush over and lean out, knowing she’s already long gone, but unable to help myself. It was an idiot move, but I’m glad I couldn’t control the impulse because it’s only once I’m standingthere, glaring down into the swimming pool area, that I hear the faint swirl of water coming from inside her bathroom.

So she didn’t leave after all. ButIshould.

Instead, I head for the bathroom door she left ajar. Instead, I turn the handle.Instead,I push it open.

Harper’s in the tub. The way the bathroom is laid out, she’s facing me, but there’s no scream for me to get out because her eyes are closed. If it wasn’t for her fingertips twitching along to whatever music she’s listening to on her earbuds, I’d have thought she dozed off. Her hair is in a dry, messy bun on top of her head, her body veiled with a few soft mounds of bubble bath. But she must have been in the bath for a while because those bubbles are becoming sparse.

I can already make out the dark triangle between her legs. Both her nipples are exposed, those dusty pink circles full and soft. But as if she can sense me standing here, as if she feels eyes on her, those nipples start to tighten. I watch, fascinated, unable to tear my eyes away.

Harper shifts in the water, letting out a soft sigh, her eyelashes fluttering. My chest tightens, and I take a hurried step back, then another, trying to move as silently as possible.

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