Page 32 of Lords of Ruin: Owned

“What?” He feigns innocence, though the grin tugging at his lips gives him away.

“Please stop.”

“Just tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“How I taste.”

I exhale sharply, knowing he won’t let this go. “If I tell you, will you jog away?”

“Yes,” he says with a solemn nod that almost makes me laugh.

I take a deep breath, my voice barely above a whisper. “Like a chocolate chip cookie with flaky salt on top.”

Vincent lets out a triumphant whoop, pumping his fist in the air. “Hell yes! Iknewit!”

Before I can respond, he takes off at a jog, cheering loudly and completely unbothered by the stares of our classmates. “She said I taste like afancy cookie!”

I can’t help it—my lips twitch into a smile as I watch him go. Rolling my eyes, I mutter under my breath, “Unbelievable.”

The rest of gym class flies by. Volleyball teams are quickly assembled, and of course, Vincent ends up on my team. He spends most of the game showing off—diving for balls unnecessarily and giving me over-the-top cheers every time I serve.

By the time the final whistle blows, my cheeks are aching from smiling too much, and I head to the showers feeling more lighthearted than I have in days.

Jasmine jogs up to me as we walk to the locker room. “Yes, or no to Kelly?”

“Dating or fucking?” I counter.

Jasmine huffs, looking down at Kelly’s number scribbled out on her hand. “Hmm, let me take a shower and I’ll think about it.”

“Put the number in your phone first!” I call after her, just as a hand wraps around my waist and pulls me close. The smell of citrus, sweat and bergamot invade my senses and I immediately know it is Vincent holding me.

“Hey, meet me here in like 30?” He whispers, lips so close yet so far from mine.

I mindlessly nod, and Vincent smiles, kissing my forehead. “Good girl.”

Vincent jogs away, his laughter fading into the distance, leaving me standing in front of the girl’s locker room, my heart pounding like I’d just run a mile. I shake my head, a faint smile tugging at my lips despite myself, and into the locker room, determined to shake off the flush creeping up my neck.

The buzz of activity fills the space as the other girls gossip, but I barely register it. My thoughts are still tangled in Vincent’s smirk and the way his lips brushed my forehead so tenderly as if he was my boyfriend.

By the time I step into the showers, most of the girls are already wrapping up, towels slung over their shoulders as they head out. Jasmine had darted off with a sarcastic promise to think about texting Kelly, leaving me to my thoughts alone in the locker room.

I twist the water off and wrap myself in a towel, my damp curly hair clinging to my neck as I make my way toward the lockers. The room is silent now, save for the faint hum of the overhead lights. I’m halfway dressed when a shadow moves in my peripheral vision.

“Hey, Willow.”

I startle, turning to see Jasper leaning casually against the row of lockers, his usual easy grin replaced by something sharper.

“Jasper?” My voice wavers. “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be in here.”

He steps closer, hands stuffed in his pockets, but his body language feels anything but casual. “Relax. I just wanted to talk.”

“I’m pretty sure this isn’t the place for that.” I grab my shirt and start to pull it on, but Jasper moves faster, his hand catching my wrist.

“Don’t rush off.” His tone is low, almost coaxing, but there’s an edge that sets my nerves on fire. “I’ve been trying to get you alone for a while now Willow, but one of the Chessmen seems to always be up your ass, and at first I thought they were harassing you.”

“They’re not harassing me.” My heart pounds as I tug my wrist, but he holds firm, stepping into my space.

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