Page 31 of Mase
Why did it have to be her?
When she lifts her head to face me, my confusion is replaced with fury pumping through my bloodstream. Someone has hurt her. Someone has purposely put that vulnerable look in her eyes, the one that calls for me toprotect her, to control her. She gets up from the chair and looks to me with hope, and when I hold out my hand, relief floods her features. Her lip wobbles, and I want nothing more than to slam my mouth against hers.
The moment her hand slips into mine, the anger diminishes but doesn’t vanish. I tug her until she collides with my chest, then take her face in my thick palms and hold her there, staring down into her blue eyes, eyes as deep as the ocean and as bright as a clear sky. I fall into her orbit, where there’s only me and her.
She searches my gaze, and I hope she can see every unspoken thought in my mind, especially the loudest one—she’s mine.
A throat clears, making me drop my hands to my side, and I instantly miss the feel of her warmth. “Mr. Campbell, I’m Mr. Franklin, the principal.” He shakes my hand. “It’s unfortunate that Summer was the victim of a disagreement between two of our students.”
My attention skips to the other students in the chairs, and I jolt when I realize one is the kid from her bed. Travis. My nostrils flare, but I quickly look away, unwilling to become more jealous of a kid than I already am.
“A disagreement?” I snipe back.
“It appears so.” The principal nods. “They will be punished accordingly; you have my word on that.”
“I want a full report tomorrow,” I bite out, and his jaw falls lax. Fuck him, nobody messes with what’s mine. “My sister doesn’t come to school to be the victim of mindless bullies.” Summer flinches beside me, then steps forward and opens her mouth, but the glare I send her has it snapping shut just as quick. “Let’s go.” I wave a hand toward the door, and without giving her time to consider her next move, I grab her arm and tug her along with me. “Tomorrow; otherwise, I’ll have the police involved,” I throw over my shoulder toward the stunned principal.
SUMMER
His grip on my arm tightens, and my feet rush to keep up with him as he strides toward his truck.
“Mase? Mase? Will you slow down?”
He releases me when he reaches the passenger door, then swings it open and nods toward the seat. “In.”
I roll my eyes at his gruff tone and slip inside. Then he shocks the hell out of me and leans in, and I almost combust as his deep-bergamot cologne fills my nostrils, sending a rush of nostalgia through me.
His muscular weight presses in on me, pinning me down, but the click of the seatbelt diverts my attention, and my cheeks heat at realizing he strapped me in.
When he slides inside the truck and starts the engine, I chew on the corner of my nail.
“What happened?” he asks, reversing out of the spot a little too fast. The vein on his neck is pulsating, and I want to trace it with my tongue.
I shake my head as lunchtime plays out in my mind. “Levi poured a drink over me.”
His eyebrows furrow, and he steals a peek toward me. “Levi?”
“The douche. The other guy back there.” I throw a thumb in the direction of the school.
He nods, but he can’t understand, not based on a small incident in school. Nope, the prick has had it in for me all year. Travis said it’s because he wants to fuck me, but I think he gets a sick kick out of fucking with me.
He glances at me, then back at the road, gripping the steering wheel. “I don’t want him anywhere near you.” I’m about to tell him me too, but he continues on. “The other guy. You’re to stay away from him too.”
My spine snaps straight, and a disgruntled noise leaves my lips, drawing his attention. “No.”
“No?” I can practically feel the steam pumping out of his ears, and his face turns redder. His T-shirt pulls tight as he adjusts himself in his seat; he looks seconds away from exploding.
I cross my arms over my chest, grimacing at the way my wet shirt clings to me.
“He’s my best friend.”
An obnoxious scoff leaves him, and outrage surges through me.
He turns toward me, the vein on his temple twitching. The muscles on his forearms are tightly strung with the grasp he has on the steering wheel now turning his knuckles white. “You fuck all your best friends?”
My mouth gapes open, and I delight in the fact his eyes zero in on my lips before he darts his focus back to the road.
“I haven’t fucked him,” I grit out, pissed I’m explaining myself.
