Page 20 of Magical Academy for Delinquents
Zavier wouldn’t be ignored. He grabbed my hand and pulled it to his chest, forcing my attention back to him. “You’re taking this all wrong.” He pasted on the fakest innocent face I’ve ever seen, one that I knew had fucking worked a zillion times because it was so goddamned cute, I wanted to laugh and strangle him at the same time. He wrapped his fingers around my hand and pressed it down against his hard, firm pec. “I’m just trying to be nice here. You’re twisting what I say, making itdirty.” His face fell on the last word as if he was disappointed in me.
I couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. “What thehelldo you want?”
A grin split his face open. He knew he’d fucking won. And he was not a gracious winner. “I wanna know if you wanna be dirty or flirty friends.”
“What?”
“You wanna be my nutty buddy? My frenefit? My peener pal?” He started to slide my hand down his chest toward those abs.
Part of me really wanted to feel them. And that was bad. I yanked my hand away. “I’m gonna have to go with no.” Because my body really wanted to say yes. But I had other things to do. And Zavier looked like he was a high-maintenance kind of distraction.
“Okay, cool. We’ll have a flirtship then.” He slung and arm across my shoulders and the feel of his hand trailing down precariously close to my chest had me catching my breath.
“A what?”
“We’ll be flirty friends until you give in and want to be dirty friends.”
A shiver traced its way slowly down my spine as Zavier traced a finger over my forearm. My core lit up like a fucking nuclear reactor—but letting this happen would be a damned disaster. Zavier’s proposal sounded dangerous. I shrugged out from under his hold. “I don’t think so.”
“So, you wanna skip right to dirty friends? Perfect. There’s a janitor’s closet—”
I held up a hand. “No. I mean I don’t want to be friends.”
Zavier froze, his dark brown eyes going hooded as he stared down at me. “You don’t mean that,” he said huskily.
And damn my body. I fucking blushed like some innocent fucking schoolgirl. Where the fuck was my composure? Fucking shit.
He grinned when he saw it. He leaned forward. “That’s okay. You’re allowed three mistakes. That was one. The outfit is two.”
I glanced down. “What the fuck is wrong with my outfit?” I’d picked it specifically for Grayson’s tastes.
Zavier leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “Because your nipples are about to get so chafed and raw in that leather top … and I’m gonna spend our entire run imagining I’m the one making them that sore.”
His proximity and naughty words had my panties soaked. It took me a second to processallthe implications of his words. “Run?” I asked.
Just then, a short man who was far too tan for his light brown hair and blue eyes, walked up to us. Just like Zavier, he had on running shorts, shoes, and a t-shirt. "I'm Coach Lundy. Welcome to Metamorphose. Let's start with the run. Shall we?" The coach jogged off without another word.
I looked down at my leather boots and fucking cursed. I could ditch the run. But on the first day? When I didn’t want to get kicked out of this place?
The coach looked back at me. “Dunemark, move it!” he barked as he held the door open for us.
Zavier jogged ahead of me, turning to grin back at me as we entered a spacious courtyard full of sidewalks and grass and the occasional bench. The February afternoon was bright and sunny, but cold.
Grumbling, I picked up my feet and jogged. I caught up with Zavier, already feeling the weight of my boots making me clumsy. “You could at least be a gentleman and offer to let me have your shirt,” I groused.
“Sorry, I only give out clothing to dirty friends.” Zavier winked at me. Then he held up my bracelet—the fucker had swiped it! —and jogged ahead to ask something of Coach Lundy.
Asshole! I zipped up my leather shirt—no reason to let the zipper rub my stomach raw—and fucking cursed the fact that I’d chosen heels. I tried to jog on the balls of my feet. I was left behind as we made our way out of the courtyard and onto a dirt path with some trees. I could see Zavier’s glutes flexing through his basketball shorts. I could see the definition in his calf muscles.
Fuck.
Here I was at Metamorphose in the final stage of my plan. And I didn’t have time for interruptions. But Zavier Kieltyka was too hot and annoyingly irresistible to easily ignore.
He was gonna be a problem.
* * *
After my feetfelt ready to fall the fuck off, Coach Lundy ended our run. He stopped outside a gym. He pointed at it. “Shower off. Ten minutes ‘til your next class. Kieltyka, you have Norm Technology with Dryden. Dunemark, you’ll be in building four with Ho for the Intersection of Magic and Science.”
