Page 51 of All In Good Time

An amused snicker slipped out at her friend’s expense. She covered her mouth with a free hand and laughed silently into her palm.

Marty rolled his eyes at her reaction. “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. At least I have chocolate I can eat. What do you have?” He made a show of looking at her arms, which were filled with books and void of any sweet treats from a secret admirer. “Looks like another year of lonely valentines for you.”

It was Becca’s turn to roll her eyes. She could shut him up right here, right now. All she would need to say was that she woke up in bed next to Derek Stokes, and Marty probably wouldn’t be able to speak for a week.

If she did that, however, she would have to deal with the fallout of Marty thinking that she and Derek had something going on. Unless he counted sobbing into Derek’s shoulder as “something going on,” then it wouldn’t exactly be fair to herself or Derek to spread those sorts of stories. Besides, she didn’t think of him in any way that would be remotely appropriate for being each other’s valentines, and she was sure he would say the same.

“Ha, ha. Hilarious. It’s just as funny as the first five times you said it. At least we can wallow in our loneliness together this year. How does it feel? Finally getting a taste of nothing for a change.” She smirked as she said it, the cringe on his face amusing her to no end.

“It’s just a short hiccup. One day, Samantha is going to come crawling back to me. Jenna and Josie too.”

“Wait a second. How many—”

A metallic bang rang through the hallway, followed by a mix of murmurs and startled yelps. Becca and Marty glanced toward the sound, and from where she was, it was hard to see much above the growing crowd in the area. Based on the energy of the bodies, whatever they were looking at was exciting.

She stepped on her tiptoes, trying to get a better glance without much luck. Her line of sight was blocked by a group of boys in letterman jackets, who were oohing and chanting at something.

“What is it?” She had to ask louder than normal just for Marty to hear her. Like her, he was trying to get a look past the assembly. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

“Oh, shit.” He shook his head. “Looks like you’re gonna need to start reeling in that asshole of yours.”

Becca’s head shot back in the direction of the commotion, and she stopped trying to look over shoulders and heads. The best way to get in and see if Marty was serious was by shoving through the wall of letterman jackets and denim to get to the front lines.

And, what a sight it was.

Brent Duggan was flat-backed against a row of lockers with a certain curly haired boy in his face. Derek had his hands wrapped in the collar of Brent’s shirt, and at first glance, it looked like a mild altercation. No bruises or welts as far as she could tell.

Both of Brent’s hands raised over his head in a defensive surrender, and his expression was both pained and a little afraid. When she saw Derek’s face, she couldn’t blame Brent for being scared.

His teeth were bared, and his face was red.

Becca’s heart shuddered. She had never seen him like this. Never this…angry.

“It was just a joke, man,” Brent said, doing his best to melt back into the lockers and out of Derek’s grasp. Physics held him in place, though, and as long as Derek had a grasp, he wasn’t going anywhere. You didn’t need to be a genius to see that Brent’s lean arms couldn’t hold up against Derek.

After a few more seconds, Brent’s pleading must have been enough, because Derek dropped him, and took a step back—brushing his palms together to get rid of invisible filth—and turned to storm away from the group.

Becca’s feet were moving before her mind caught up with her body, but she didn’t resist it. Instinctively, she followed Derek across the open area in a semi-circle of students, and even though she knew that dozens of pairs of eyes were now looking between her and Derek, it didn’t bother her the way it once did.

Not when Derek wasthisupset about something.

Brent noticed her, too, while he popped his collar and straightened out the wrinkles Derek had left behind. Brent never was very bright, but his worst moments were the ones when he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut.

“What the hell did you do to him, Lewis?” he yelled after her, and the sound of her last name grated against her nerves.

She shot him a glare out the corner of her eye but didn’t stop walking. She didn’t notice that Derek had frozen in place, right on the edge of the crowd.

But Brent wasn’t finished. “Did finally opening your legs do you some good?”

Brent was all bark, looking for a fight wherever he could get one. Becca was used to those games, and she knew them inside and out by now. The best way to piss him off was to just keep walking and ignore him.

But those fighting words weren’t for her.

Derek spun around and whipped past Becca before she could stop him—leaving her in a wake of his scent.

Derek was on Brent again, but this time his hands didn’t bother grabbing his shirt. They flew fist-first into his nose, sending Brent back into the lockers, leaving him groaning in pain as blood poured from under his cupped hands.

Chaos erupted, and Becca froze as April screamed.

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