Page 4 of The Assist
Gross.
Except it isn’t. It’s actually really sweet.
As skittish as I am about the opposite sex these days thanks to the last guy I trusted, Mario has given me no reason to doubt his intentions. And I refuse to let one asshole taint my view on every other guy for the rest of my life.
Speak of the devil.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I fight back the urge to press Ignore.
“Hello?” I answer cheerfully as if the man on the other end isn’t the absolute worst.
“Where are you?” He wastes no such effort on niceties.
“I’m on my way,” is the only thing I say before I hear the line disconnect.
With a heavy sigh, I head to the library. David paces the front entrance. His dark hair is tousled perfectly and emphasizes the crisp white dress shirt. He stands out among the other students who are dressed more casually. I used to like that about him, how he stood out amongst the crowd. Now, it’s just another thing I despise.
“You have it?” he asks before the double doors have even closed behind me.
I bite back every mean and awful thing I’ve thought about the man in front of me. Polished and handsome on the outside. Horrible and ugly where it matters.
I hand over the folder, keeping my mouth closed.
He opens it, absolutely no regard for its contents. He can’t fathom his actions having consequences, and he’s made me all too aware of the ramifications of every single action I’ve made.
“Jesus, David, you could wait to inspect it until you get back to your room. It’s all there. I wrote the answers on a blank piece of paper, so you can fill the worksheet in with your handwriting.”
“We aren’t in fucking high school, Blair. The librarians aren’t sitting around looking for suspicious activity. As long as you keep your mouth shut, no one will ever know.”
I grind my back teeth.
He snaps the folder shut and holds it in one hand at his side. “Professor Shoel assigned a five-page paper on a classical music composer. It’s due next Monday, but I need it Friday so I can go over it and make sure it sounds like me. The last one you wrote sounded too girly.”
Because agirlwrote it.
“How much longer are you going to do this to me? I'm failing my own classes, I can't keep up.”
Desperation clings to my voice as if I could be anything but desperate.
He sneers, turning his handsome features cold and sinister until the outside matches the inside. “Would you rather I share your nude selfies with the world? Maybe that’s what you wanted all along, for me to pass them around and give everyone a little taste.”
My stomach twists with shame and regret. “Those pictures were for you, my boyfriend. You know I never meant for anyone else to see them.”
“I’m sure you tell that to all the guys, but I’m not buying it.” He leans in close, and I hold my breath as if not breathing in the scent of his expensive cologne and mint gum could take back everything. “When I feel like you’ve learned your lesson, then we’re done. You got a problem with that, Blair?”
I hate that I'm in this position. Hate that he put me here. But, mostly, I hate that I don’t have the balls to knee him and tell him to go to hell.
“No problem,” I mumble.
2
Wes
Joel pullsthe Tesla into the garage and Z and I pry ourselves out of the tiny sports car. The rest of the team is already here and the splashing and music from out back filters through the house. It’s a hundred and eight degrees in Arizona today. August was worse, but we’re nearing the first day of fall, and I could literally fry an egg on the hood of the car. Shit isn’t normal.
I miss the Midwest humidity. Never thought I’d utter those words.
Sometimes, I’d like to come home to a quiet house instead of the craziness of our non-stop party house, but I get why our place is the hang out.
