No. That part fucking twitches. Somewhere deep in my stomach, lower than I want to admit. Heat coils tightly in a way that makes me want to punch a wall or scream or claw at my own skin until it stops humming.
“Don’t fucking call me that,” I bite out, but my voice is not as steady as I want it to be. There’s a thread in it. A crack I know he hears because his eyes light up with an unholy gleam.
“Why not?” he asks softly. “It suits you. All bark and bite. Trying so hard to be dangerous, but still so…” His eyes dip, and my stomach clenches. “Eager.”
My throat works around nothing. I can’t even breathe right now. I want to shove him back and wipe that smug, knowing expression off his face, but my feet stay rooted to the floor.
“I’m not fucking eager,” I snap, but it’s weak. Pathetic. Even I know it. My voice dips at the end, and I’m not sure if I’m telling him or myself.
Liam’s smile curves wider, the devil in it no longer hiding. “No?” he murmurs. “Then why are you still standing here, Pup?”
I breathe hard through my nose. “You keep calling me that, I’mgoingto bite.”
“Good,” he says, too quickly. “I like it when they bite. Makes me want to leash them.”
My fingers curl into fists again, nails biting into my palms as if pain could distract me from the way his voice curls around me like a chain. I hate this man.I hate him. I hate that he can say something so simple and make my body betray me this way.
“I won’t play your games, Liam,” I grit out, glaring at the spot on his chest because, if I meet his eyes again, I’ll do something I’ll regret.
But Liam just leans in, and the scent of him—clean soap and expensive cologne—hits me like a drug I didn’t ask to take. His mouth is so close to my ear that I can feel the heat of every breath as he speaks.
“You’re already playing, you just haven’t figured out whether you want to win…” A pause, and then his voice lowers even more, “or cry for me.”
My breath catches, and I can’t hide the way my knees almost buckle.
His lips don’t touch me, but they hover. So fucking close… and that’s when I finally shove him. It’s not a punch, not what he deserves, but it’s enough to create space between us, enough to make him stumble half a step back and let out a delighted laugh.
“God, you’re fun,” he murmurs, that cruel smile sending unwanted shivers up my spine.
I don’t respond. I turn on my heel and bolt down the hallway, not caring who sees or what they think. My chest is tight. My skin is crawling. My fists are clenched. And my dick—
No.
No, no, no.
I storm outside, past the fountain, past the sidewalk full of smiling, normal students who don’t have blood on their hands or devils whispering in their ears. When I get to the side of the building, out of sight, I press the heels of my hands against the cool brick, forcing myself to breathe.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Why the hell did that get to me?
It’s not as though I haven’t dealt with assholes before. I grew up around worse. I’vesurvivedworse. But Liam Callahan is a different breed; he doesn’t just push buttons, he programs them. He scripts the whole damn game before you even know you’re playing.
And I let him call mePup.
I let it get under my skin, let it stick in my chest like a hook, dragging me down somewhere dark and dangerous that I’ve spent my whole life trying to avoid. Especially afterher.Because, for all the hate burning in my chest and all the disgust clawing up my throat, a tiny part of me wants him to call me that again.
And that—
That’s what terrifies me most.
Nate
Thepartyisloudas fuck, and I don’t even know who half these people are.
I lean against the kitchen counter, swirling the beer in my cup, watching as drunk freshmen stumble through the house. Some asshole just spilled vodka all over the floor, and instead of cleaning it up, he’s laughing like it’s the funniest shit he’s ever seen.
I should care more. My dad was Sigma Rho Alpha before me, and his dad before him. Legacy status comes with expectations, but right now? Right now, I couldn’t give a fuck.