Page 119 of Bad for Me

I still haven’t mentally given in to the tension thickening between us, but my hand has a mind of its own and already rests on her bare leg. The tips of my fingers rest at the seam of her inner thighs, and before I can stop myself, my pinky sneaks underneath the short hem of her dress.

She doesn’t move it. In fact, she opens slightly, giving me better access as she lays her left hand on top of mine.

Keep it the fuck together.

I shake my head, trying to free the thoughts that creep in. I didn’t pick her up to fuck her, and she could be drunk for all I know.

Fear and rage scrape at my chest, turning my words into gravel. “Have you been drinking?”

“What?” She shakes her head. “God no. I don’t—I mean I haven’t… not since my accident.”

“Good.” One word is all I can muster as I relax into my seat.

I never expected her to give up drinking completely. Even I didn’t do that. But that choice sparks pride in my chest and knowing she had her wits about her at that party brings me even more relief.

I don’t know why her safety matters to me so much. At one point, the fact that she put herself in danger nearly broke me. Memories of losing my best friend, seeing her in the hospital bed pale and weak like my mother in those final months… fuck, I was a coward, and I couldn’t handle caring about yet another person that could die in my life. I had to distance myself to keep from losing my sanity. But all that time ignoring her—choosing to believe she doesn’t exist—meant nothing the moment she walked into my classroom yesterday. I have a desperateneedto know she’s safe, now. And if the last five minutes are any indication, the way I feel about her means that staying away from her from now on will be impossible.

It dawns on me that once she’s back home, I’ll have to go back to pretending I hate her. And what’s worse, having her out of my sight means I won’t know if she’s safe.

So the closer we get to her dorm, the slower I drive and the more stress courses through my veins.

“You can’t go back there, Everly.” I intended for the sentence to come out like a command, but the words crack, and I sound as broken and worried as I feel. “To Corvus House, I mean. You can’t go back there.”

“Why?”

“I can’t explain why, but it’s best you learn now that there are more secrets than you could ever know at Graveston. Corvus House—everything about that place—none of it is safe.” I don’t dare look at her, but I feel her curious eyes boring into the side of my head. “Please, just trust me, okay?”

After a few left turns and one yellow traffic light, she finally nods.

“Okay.”

My shoulders relax as a sigh escapes my chest. I swallow, trying to wet my dry throat.

“Thank you.”

7

EVERLY

Woods is terrified.His spine is ramrod straight against his seat, while one hand grips his steering wheel and the other digs into my flesh like he’s holding on to both by a thread. If he’s trying to play it cool, he’s either terrible at it or I’m better at reading him than he wants me to be. I have a million questions, like why the hell is he so hot and cold, why the hell did he want me to leave the party, and why the hell is his thumb stroking my thigh like I’m his to touch… but I don’t want to ask a single one. Instead, all I can think about is taking his stress away.

But why? Why do I care?

I sigh, not sure how to answer myself or how to dissect the emotions rolling through me.

On the one hand, he just embarrassed me in front of an entire fraternity party. Granted, I don’t know any of them yet, and I lost Cadence and Marleigh in the crowd an hour ago. In fact, I’d just texted them that I was leaving soon when Woods showed up, so the people whose opinions I really care about probably didn’t see a thing.

On the other hand, though, something scared the hell out of him andI’mthe person he’s worried about. If he didn’t give a damn about me like he’s tried to make me believe all these years, I wouldn’t be in his car right now.

He drives slower and slower the closer we get to my dorm, so when we get to one of the campus’ many yellow traffic signals, I make my move. Just as he’s about to press the gas to keep going straight, I widen my legs and drag his fingers farther up my thighs.

“Turn left, Woods.”

His gaze flits down to where I’m sliding his hand past the hem of my dress before darting from left to right at the intersection and making the turn. Once his hand disappears under the fabric, he makes another wrong turn down a darkened street, taking us away from campus.

We see fewer and fewer students traveling the sidewalks as we reach an older, more historic residential area. Eventually the fog takes over the roads, giving everything outside the same aura as a dark, empty ghost town.

Up until now, I’ve been moving his fingers where I want them. But once our surroundings grow nearly pitch black, he takes over.

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