Page 56 of The Casualty of Us
That he knew would rile me up just enough for some kind of possible slip.
It all just pisses me the fuck off.
But there’s something else there too. Something in between the drops of my stomach and the sharpening of that ache. Something more that’s pushing me all on its own. Pushing metoward the fade one second and then anger the next…trying to exert its will against mine. I don’t know. Something like—
“Sorry, I just needed to…” The scratch of Holden’s pen comes to a stop next to me, and then a second later, he asks, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure actually.” My brows fall with the admission. “It’s logical in a way, I guess…but it’s not. It’s like he’s—”
“Right here.” I jolt in my chair at the rasp, whipping my gaze up to see a pair of wearily amused eyes staring down at me. “He’s right here.”
Think of the devil and he shall appear.
“I wasn’t talking about you.”
“Sure you weren’t.” He shakes his head with his mouth making a littletskingsound that has the scowl sinking deeper on my face. “Of course not.”
Holden clears his throat next to me, greeting the stupid— “Hayes.”
“Holden.” Hayes nods back, eyes still locked with mine.
Then he just stands there, staring at me, any lingering amusement slowly draining from his gaze to leave that calculation whirling. A resolve flows over his face that has me pursing my lips before looking pointedly away and settling in to ignore him for the two seconds he’ll probably be here.
Since I’ve already opened my mouth enough for the day.
I reach down to open my backpack and pull my chem book from it before dropping the heavy text on the table while trying to keep my frustration somewhat contained. Not even looking up when he starts to move. Tracking him out of the corner of my eye as he makes his way to the spot across from mine and holding my breath as he pulls out the chair loudly, again, and drops his backpack onto the table.
No.
No. No. No. I refuse to—I can’t deal—I’m not ready—nope.
I lift my gaze back up, watching from under my lashes as he sits down and starts to shrug out of his jacket. “What are you doing?”
“Uh.” He pauses, making a dramatic show of looking around before turning back to me innocently. “I can put it back on if it makes you feel uncomfort—”
“Don’t try to be cute,” I snap, leaning back and tossing out a hand at him. “What are you doing here? Now? You’re supposed to be at football.”
“I’m off the team the rest of the year for drinking on school grounds.” He swallows, gaze darting down like it’s trying to escape mine suddenly. “Thought Ollie would’ve told you.”
I blink at him, digesting the news as he finishes shrugging out of his jacket. And despite that it unsettles me, the additional information that I’ve voluntarily insulated myself from in a way…I still find that I don’t feel too bad for him.
So when he lays his jacket on the table and looks back up at me before crossing his arms like he isn’t going anywhere, I just dip my head to the side and let my eyes roll over him.
“Sucks.” I sigh with faux sympathy before ordering. “Now go away.”
He lifts a hand with a short laugh, pointing between us. “Oh, are we not pretending anymore?” He nods. “That’s a relief. So how does this work? Do we come up with a custody schedule for all public places? Or—”
I slam my book shut and start to stand. “Fine, I’ll leave—”
“Sit down, Ophelia.”
I pause with my ass hovering above the seat at the hard command, eyes slitting instantly and spitting back, “What the fuck did you just say?”
“Sit. Down.”
His eyes narrow on mine with the bitten-off words, and I suck in a breath to verbally flay him with, when Holden interrupts uncomfortably.
“I think I’m going to just—”
