Page 49 of Puck'N Enemy
Pete is unpredictable, so I can never guess what he’ll try to do next.
Maybe I’ll just have to spend the rest of my day looking over my shoulder, second-guessing every shadow.
“Hey,” I say, forcing a grin on my face. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
“Are you okay?” Reece asks, giving me a sidelong look.
“Yeah, I just forgot something. How about I meet you in class?”
“Sure. Just don’t be late.”
I nod. “I won’t.”
My teammates move on without doubting me.
As soon as they’re gone, I turn around, cutting across the campus lane. I don’t go back toward the gym building but make a detour into one of the older academic halls.
Everything goes quiet around me as soon as I enter the ancient school building. The air is cooler here, alerting my senses further.
I walk slowly, each step feeling like a trap.
The hum of the ceiling lights buzzes in my ears. The corridor stretches ahead, lined with classroom doors and half-dead fluorescents that flicker just enough to be unnerving.
I stop in the middle of the hallway, my hand twitching at my side, looking for a weapon. If it’d been the old days, I’d have a sharp shiv in my pocket.
“Come out,” I hiss under my breath. “If Pete sent you, I won’t run.”
There’s no answer. Just the echo of silence.
Then—
Hard fingers clamp over my wrist.
My eyes widen, but before I can turn, a hand slaps over my mouth, cutting off a gasp. I thrash against a hard chest as my muscle memory kicks in.
I try to kick back but miss hitting his knees. The man holding me is strong. He easily drags me inside a dark, empty classroom and slams the door shut.
With a sudden, he shoves me against a wall.
A gasp escapes me as my back hits the cold, hard wall. Before I can recover from the impact, he’s on me again, pinning me against his broad, muscled chest.
What the hell—
Panic surges like acid in my chest. I freeze, my heart slamming against my ribs. His lips descend on mine, forcibly kissing me. Caught between fear and confusion, I can barely breathe.
Just as I start panicking, a familiar scent wafts into my nostrils.
It’s a faint woodsy fragrance, mixed with fresh citrus. The taste of bitter coffee spreads on my tongue, suddenly relieving my fear.
That scent.
It’s Logan.
My body recognizes him before my mind can catch up.
Logan’s lips are wild and desperate against mine. He bites and sucks, devouring me like a man who’s waited too long. His fingers tighten around my wrist and hip, holding me in place like he’s afraid I’d run if he lets go.
I blink, stunned, until the wave of recognition crashes over me and my panic turns into longing. My hands press against Logan’s chest, not to push him away, but to steady myself.
