Page 46 of Broken Princess

There’s only one way to find out. I hate him, I really do. But I know just one time won’t be enough to ensnare him in my trap. I’ll play this cool and let him think he’s winning me. I’ll make him truly fall for me, and when I turn the tables on him, he’ll be the one left with nothing.

I’m indulging in my latest obsession, people watching, while we’re doing our final headcount and waiting for the buses to arrive. Most of the group is wearing sunglasses. I doubt it has anything to do with the overcast sky. They’re hungover and sleep deprived. It’s almost comical, considering how much they party on campus. I guess the recovery time is different when you can just pass out wherever you are.

Logan’s leaning against a wall, sipping a coffee. It’s cold as shit outside, but my body warms, thinking about what I did last night. I press my thighs together, noting that I’m a little sore from how hard I rode him.

I walk to the edge of the group to talk to Dixon, pretending nothing happened, because if I know one thing about Logan, it’s that he hates being ignored. It’s just a matter of time before he seeks me out to say something, and when he does, I’ll be ready.

Once I’m back on campus, I put everything I learned and did this weekend out of my mind because I have a paper to write and a homework assignment to complete. Kassidy doesn’t ask me anything about the trip, other than did I like the exhibits, because the other students were posting play-by-plays on their Prospectus accounts.

I text my mother letting her know I’m back at school and turn my phone off to cut down on the distractions. It’s after eleven at night when I finish the first draft of my paper. I print it and put it in a folder to read over later with fresh eyes. It takes another hour to finish my homework and when I’m done; I flip the volume back on my phone and set my alarm. Taking off my jeans, I crawl into bed with just my ratty t-shirt and boy shorts.

I toss and turn a few times, trying to find a comfortable position, and fluff my top pillow, placing it longways, finally feeling cozy and relax enough to fall asleep.

I jolt awake. Looking down the length of my body, I notice my sheets twisted around my waist, one hand under my shirt, and the other in my shorts. I know exactly why. I was dreaming Logan had me tied up in the bell tower, on my knees in front of him. But instead of using his hand to get off, he took my mouth until my lips were numb and my jaw ached. His words cut through the air as he promised he’d be filling every one of my holes before he was done. My hand is wet and the inside of my thighs are sticky. I pull my finger out of my quivering pussy. Great. One night with Logan, and now I’m dreaming about him and fingering myself in my sleep.

I untangle myself from my sheets, slipping into the bathroom to clean myself off. It’s still early in the morning. I just hope I wasn’t moaning, or rocking the bed hard enough for Kassidy to hear. That would be embarrassing.

Checking my phone, I see I have ten unread messages. Three of them are from Logan, one from Summer, and the rest are random Prospectus status updates. Curiosity killed the cat, and it’s about to get me too. I navigate to his profile to see what type of things he’s been posting since coming back to school. Not that it will give me any insight into his mind. He’s good at hiding behind his mask of civility and charm.

Before, I couldn’t tell the difference between the faces he shows. But thanks to Pepper’s homework assignment, I’m recognizing when he’s being genuine and when he’s putting on an act. The photos he’s in, in New York, are all fake. He wasn’t having as good a time as he pretended to be.

There are the usual ones he takes at the parties, and around campus, or out in town, and a few around a pool I assume is at his home. Whoever the photographer was, he likes that person and feels comfortable around them enough to let his guard down. Soon that person will be me.

I answer my sister’s text and scroll through my phone for the notes I jotted down weeks ago. Now that I’ve crossed the first hurdle with Logan, it’s time to move on to the next stage of my plan.

Eighteen

Logan

Islide into the seat in front of the woman who appeared to me like a dream during the early hours of Sunday morning and fucked me so good that I drifted back off to sleep with a smile on my face, even after her abrupt exit. I don’t know how Jordanna persuaded the front desk to give her a key to my room. Others asked for it and were turned away.

Today, I need to see where her head is at. She said she still hates me, and rightly so, but she’s opened the door to us reconnecting on a sexual level, and I want her in my bed again. Iwillhave her again.

Her brows are pinched in concentration as she swipes her pencil across the canvas. This semester she’s more confident looking at the body on stage. My eyes flick to the front of the classroom, then back to her work.

Her hand is steady, her lines crisp. I can already see the outline of the model’s body taking shape. She’s come a long way from the shy artist who couldn’t look beyond legs and arms. Her headphones are in blocking out the soft whispers of the other students. I pop one out, placing it in my ear. The soft jazz is sexy, forlorn and desperate.

She’s listening to this while looking at him? Her hand touches mine and when I look down, I see she’s holding her hand out for me to give her headphones back. I snatch it out of my ear, but I don’t return it. I know if I do, she’ll go back to ignoring me. I’ll give it back after we’ve talked.

“Why aren’t you taking my calls?”

“You haven’t called. I blocked your number, remember?”

That’s the first thing we’re gonna rectify. It’s a pain to keep logging in with my admin credentials to message her on Prospectus. “Jordy, we need to talk about what happened.”

She shrugs, looks past me, studies the model for a minute, then goes back to sketching. “Really? You don’t have anything to say, after you snuck into my hotel room and fucked me?”

“Logan, it’s not a big deal. I was feeling horny and rather than sleep with some stranger who might not have been able to get me off, I opted for you.”

Her hands are steady, and her voice is strong. When the hell did she get so dismissive about sex? Last semester she was all about sharing her feelings, beforeandafter. Now she’s shrugging it off. This must be some of the shit she learned on the island from Kassidy’s parents. “That’s all it was to you? Just sex?”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know how hypocritical they must sound, after telling her the months we spent together were only to get her into bed, so I could humiliate her in the end.

“I told you, I still hate you for what you did. You, of all people, couldn’t possibly expect one orgasm to make me change my mind about that.”

I don’t but a few more might, which is why I’m about to do something I shouldn’t be doing. Pursue her. “I’ve apologized, and I told you I want the chance to be friends again. I don’t know how many more ways I can say it.”

“It was a bullshit apology that you practically took back seconds after you said it, and even if I thought you meant it, nothing’s different. You’re still hanging with the same people who thought it would be funny to bet on my virginity and to humiliate me in front of everyone, just because I came here on a scholarship. You say you’re sorry, but even if that’s true, the damage is done. I’m still getting the same looks and hearing the same shit I was on the first day of school. Any second now, I expect one of your friends to tell me that this apology is bullshit. Another tactic you’re using in an elaborate game to further humiliate me, since it didn’t quite stick the last time around.”

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