Page 167 of Teacher's Pet

Ana stands beneath the soft glow of the courtyard lights, wrapped in a deep emerald-green dress that clings to her body like it was made just for her. The fabric cascades over her curves, teasing the lines of her figure in a way that makes my mind waver, my body reacting before I can stop it.

I know every inch of her. Every scar, every secret. Every breathless moment we’ve stolen away from the world.

Her hair, deep red and glossy, falls in soft waves down her back, a stark contrast against the smooth expanse of her bare shoulders. Her eyes, rimmed in smoky shadow, flicker in the dim lighting, her lips painted the color of fresh blood.

Fuck.

She looks stunning.

And hanging from her neck, exactly where I wanted it, is the necklace I slipped to her this morning. The diamond charm catches the last rays of the setting sun, shimmering against her skin.

So perfect.

"She looks fucking breathtaking, wouldn’t you say, big brother?" Jake taunts, his voice slithering under my skin like poison.

I grind my teeth, forcing my breathing to stay even.

"Perfect," Cole scoffs. He swirls the whiskey in his glass lazily before sneering, "Wait until you’ve had her in bed. There’s nothing perfect under that dress."

The air between us snaps like a live wire.

I grip my glass so hard I swear it might shatter. My pulse is a war drum in my ears, every muscle in my body screaming to move, to strike.

No. I should fucking kill him.

Before I can react, Erica stumbles into the circle, her drunken sway knocking into my side. She latches onto Cole with a sloppy grin, reeking of liquor and cheap perfume.

"Hey, baby," she slurs, giggling as she curls into him. Then, with a nasty edge to her voice, she sneers, "See that skanky whore over there-"

"Shut the fuck up."

The words come out before I can stop them, low and lethal. My control splinters.

Erica blinks, startled, but I don’t give her a chance to recover.

"Why don’t you learn to fucking hide your hickeys before you start calling someone a whore?" I snap, my eyes flicking to the raw bruises scattered across her neck. The hypocrisy makes my stomach churn.

Walker and Cole exchange glances, both of them smirking like they’re waiting for the show to continue. Then, almost on cue, their attention shifts to Jake, as if expecting him to reel me back in.

"Easy, Noah," Jake warns, his voice tightening. "You don’t want to piss off my friends-"

I don’t hesitate. I down the rest of my drink, slamming the empty glass onto the nearest table before meeting his gaze head-on.

"Yeah," I mutter, my lips curling into a sharp grin. "I do."

Anastasia

Catching the gazes of Elijah and Megan, I spot their parents nearby, chatting among themselves. Their hands flutter eagerly, waving me over, urging me to socialize.

I pretend not to notice.

"Ana!"

Mrs. Briar’s voice rings out, light and airy, just a touch too enthusiastic. She’s been drinking. That much is obvious.

I barely have time to turn before she pulls me into a warm embrace, the scent of expensive perfume clinging to her. Roman trails close behind, his ever-watchful presence a silent contrast to her bright energy.

She pulls back, taking me in with a beaming smile. "Look at you," she coos, eyes sweeping up and down my frame. "You look like a princess."

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