Page 20 of Diem

Matt falls in beside me as I march away but I’m too consumed by the surge of butterflies dancing through my system to do much more than grunt when he says, “Are you okay?”

There’s no doubt that this is going to come back and haunt me but for once, I don’t care. I feel…free and with a laugh that inspires Matt to frown, I wave him off and head to class.

∞∞∞

I’m met with curious stares through the morning classes. Harriet gives me a high five somewhere in between and when I sit down in History, I look up as Landon whistles lewdly.

Unfortunately, I immediately clash with Diem, who’s giving me a mercurial glare. Despite his enmity, tingles race down my spine, knowing he's looking my way.

Shit. Why am I letting him have this power?

After collapsing in my seat, I open my notebook and begin a new poem, knowing all the while by the telltale tingle on my cheek that Diem is looking at me. For once, I feel my own power, and the rush in my veins feels fucking amazing.

That is until he grabs my arm after class and shuttles me into an empty classroom.

The room smells of paint and turpentine, tickling my nose.

Since he’s still got a hold of my arm, I’m powerless when he swings me around and bends until we’re practically mouth to mouth.

“How do you know Skull?” he asks, his breath fanning my cheek.

“Who cares? He gave me a message for you,” I say, my pulse thumping heavily.

Just like old times, my heart soars around him. It’s my mind that knows the ugly, sordid truth.

“What’s that?” he asks through clenched teeth, his pretty eyes shining.

Shrugging, I pull away, disturbed by the need pulsing through me in painful waves. When will the feelings die?

“Maeve.” He grabs my arm, but I refuse to turn. “What did he say?”

“He wants to know where Patrick is,” I mutter. I don’t mention the personal threat. Why bother? Diem’s shown over and over that he doesn’t care.

“Patrick?”

I eye him sideways while he stares over my shoulder before he huffs, dropping my arm. “Stay away from him.”

I’m dying to ask about Patrick, but I refrain and although I hardly need the warning, I can’t pass up the opportunity to say, “Why? He seemed nice enough.”

Lies. He was fucking scary.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Nothing, are we done now?” I ask, rolling my eyes to the ceiling.

“What the fuck has gotten into you?” he barks, swinging me around once more.

His dark eyes drop to my heaving chest and when his nostrils flare, my breath catches in my throat. Of course, I shift slightly, all of which he sees because he’s never missed a damn thing in his life.

Leaning in until his lips are a breath from mine, he whispers softly, “You still thinking about that night?”

Liquid heat surges in my core, but my brain is screaming at me,don’t take the bait.

Which is why I manage to scoff and say, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He chuckles, the sound like fire, and I will back the urge to touch my lips to his as he rasps, “Is that right? Then why do your pretty little nipples beg me for another round?”

If he weren’t holding my arm, I’d be covering my chest by now. Since I have no good answer for his assertion, I raise my chin and grit my teeth.

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