I grab my phone, scoot up next to him on the bed, and text Abigail.
Me: Do you have Legacy’s number?
She responds almost immediately.
Abigail: I’ll send it over now.
I peer at Bennett, but he’s too involved in the football game to pay attention to me.
Me: I need you!
Legacy: Want me to pick you up now?
Me: Tonight.
Legacy: What time does he leave?
Me: Seven.
Legacy: Pick you up at ten past?
Me: I’ll be waiting.
I need to get out of this house, and my father won’t question me spending time with another cheerleader. In fact, he will welcome it and think it’s an attempt on my part to get in his good books.
Little does he know.
Cali messages Bennett again, and this time I grab the phone out of his hand and throw it at the wall, shouting, “You’re a fucking dick!”
I storm out, too fucking wound up to care about the potential fallout. My best friend is fucking my boyfri—fiancé!
My emotions make no sense. I resent Bennett for what he did the previous night, but I’m also angry about him and Cali. Why? What the fuck does it matter when he forced himself on me? I should hate him! And I do, but I’m not making sense. Besides, what I’m doing with Zayd and Legacy is no better. I’m an emotional mess, and my feelings are all over the place.
I barely make it past Zayd’s door before he pops his head out and grabs my arm. I’m pulled inside his room. When I open my mouth to speak—to shout at him or kiss him—he puts his finger over my lips. “I didn’t fuck anyone!”
My heart stops beating.
“Do you know why? Because I can’t stop thinking about you!”
I nip his finger with my teeth and pull him down for a kiss. Happiness swells within me, making my chest feel too full. It should terrify me.
His tongue strokes mine and his hands squeeze my ass as he walks me deeper into the room. “You drive me insane!”
I silence him with another kiss.
He breaks away and lifts me off the ground, pleading, “Don’t marry him!”
Instead of answering, I wrap my legs around his waist and kiss him deeper. He tastes of desire and mint, stolen moments and bad decisions that feel so damn good.
“Take this fucking ring off!” he growls against my lips as he tears it off and throws it on the floor. Then he lowers me down on the bed, settles between my legs, and kisses me like I’m the air he needs to survive.
Meanwhile, Bennett is oblivious on the other side of the wall, too enraptured by the football to notice the passing of time.
Zayd’s hand freezes on my ribs. “What the fuck is this?”
I pull my t-shirt down, but he shoves it back up, brushing his fingers over the fresh bruises marring my ribs.
“Bennett did this?” He shoots off the bed and surges for the door, his shoulders tense with murderous intent.