Page 13 of Uncharted Desires
I sink my teeth into the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing. I don’t want to make him feel even more uncomfortable. “Anytime.”
Blake points his thumb over his shoulder to where he apparently thinks the exit is. “I’m just gonna….”
I try for a neutral tone as I say, “Sure.”
He turns around and bolts then. He’s walking very fast, but at least he doesn’t run this time. So hey, that’s progress.
As soon as he disappears behind the door, I lean against the wall, put my hands in my pockets and take a slow, deep breath.
Ireallydon’t like him. That hasn’t changed. There’s just something about the guy that makes me defy my brain and do stupid shit like that.
Besides, just because I don’t like him doesn’t mean I don’t want to hate-fuck him.
But it’s not like I’ll ever get the chance to do that, anyway, so there’s no problem.
And maybe, that’s for the best.
Chapter Three
Blake
I PUT MY earbuds in, pull the hood of my sweatshirt over my head, and squeeze into the corner of the hallway, hoping none of my classmates will feel like asking questions until the professor arrives.
It took me a week and a half of hiding away in my room to realize I couldn’t avoid Sawyer forever.
Yep, that’s what it came down to—I was willing to sacrifice my education just to escape my intrusive thoughts. Turns out, I can’t outrun myself, and memories of the two nights atSkin on Skincame crashing in waves, constantly and unforgivably, until I finally decided to bite the bullet and admit that I might be bisexual.
And I have absolutely no problem with that. What I do have a problem with is that my dick seems to respond to Sawyer in particular.
Why couldn’t it have been someone nice? Or, the hell with nice, someone neutral would do just fine. But no, it has to be the biggest jerk on the planet.
I inwardly sigh once I glimpse Xander walking in my direction. I pull the stupid hood off my head since it’s mostly himI was hiding from. It’s one thing to bullshit a random student, but lying to a friend is not exactly how I want my day to start.
“Well, well. Look who finally decided to show up,” he greets me once he reaches the end of the line leading to the still-closed classroom.
“Yeah. I’ve been… feeling kind of funny,” I mutter to the floor. Why do I lie? I’m not sure. He didn’t even ask.
My attention slips in and out of the conversation as Xander rambles about some random exam, and a few sentences in, I find myself scrutinizing his face. I’ve never really seen him date anyone, but he’s objectively good-looking. I’m sure chicks would line up if he as much as indicated he were looking for anything. So maybe….?
I swipe my gaze all over his perfectly decent body, and before I can formulate a hypothesis in my mind that maybe I could be attracted to him, my gag reflex kicks in, much like it did when that random dude walked up to me in the club.
Why, just why does it have to be Sawyer?
I startle when fingers snap an inch from my face. “You okay, dude?”
I clear my throat. “Yeah. Why?”
“You’ve been staring at me like a serial killer.”
Great. I avert my gaze and all I manage to mutter is, “Sorry,” before my breath hitches in my throat as I spot a figure approaching us from the other end of the hallway.
His hair is in disarray, and he hides his eyes behind dark shades, one hand in his pocket, the other on the strap of the backpack he carries on one shoulder, the usual black leather jacket in place.
My temperature spikes. I turn to Xander and start yapping about whatever, hoping that will discourage Sawyer from walking over. I’m not ready to face him and address… anything, really. And I’m sure as fuck not ready to do it in front of my friend.
But unfortunately, Xander is friends with pretty much everyone, and when he raises his hand and all but shouts, “Hey, Sawyer,” I wish for the floor to swallow me whole.
My pulse quickens, my mind blank, and I count his steps as he inevitably approaches us. By the time he’s mere feet away, my entire body tenses.
