Page 11 of Ruthless Rose

“I always know when your thirsty eyes are on me, Daphne.”

I press my lips together, remembering the way his lips had slid over hers and his tongue had— My eyes slam shut. The defensive maneuver does no good as I can still feel the heat of his body right in front of mine.

“You were watching us when I grabbed her ass and pulled her against me. You watched how eagerly she kissed me. My dick was hard.” He dips his head close to mine. “And you watched every fucking second of the show,” he whispers, so close to my ear, his breath tickles my skin. “Did it turn you on, Daphne?”

I’m mortified.

By the time I open my eyes, he’s gone.

At the coffee shop, six o’clock comes and goes without any sign of Micah. I’ve blown through my AP Calculus, AP Spanish V, and AP Government homework before I even realize he’s late. Biting my lip, I pull out my AP Literature work and buckle down to write an essay while I wait.

Twenty minutes later, I look around, deciding he’s a bona fide no-show. I pull out my phone, kicking myself for not getting his number this morning. What if he got into an accident on the way here? What if he forgot what time we were meeting and had no way to confirm? What if he’d come down with something and had to go home?

Or, what if he decided, after thinking about how he caught you watching him with Alora this morning, that he’d rather not spend time with you? I glance down at my skinny legs peeking out from under my skirt and cringe. I’m obviously not the kind of girl he’s used to hanging out with, so even if it is just to be tutored … maybe he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. I might mess with the image he has going. Maybe now that he’s actually been forced to notice me and can no longer look through me, he doesn’t really care for what he sees.

With a depressed sigh, I leave my work at the table and walk up to the counter to order myself another hot tea to pass the time. While I wait for it, I pull up my Insta account, flipping through some photos. And I don’t know why I find myself doing it. Not long ago, I’d told Scarlett that Insta is the devil, and here I am searching for Micah to see if he has an account.

Bingo. He sure does and— What the … My shoulders slump. He posted a pic of himself and his teammates at the little diner down the street less than ten minutes ago. Cold tingles skate through my body until my skin erupts with goose bumps. He told me to meet him here. And he’s down the street with his football buddies?

There are several people sitting at tables in the coffee shop who all hear my muttered curse and look up. I cover my mouth with my hand to stop the other bad words that want to escape.

Kendra, who owns the shop, sets my tea down in front of me and quirks up an eyebrow at my expression. “You okay, Daphne?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m sorry, would it be terribly difficult for you if I asked to take this to go?”

“Not at all.” She deftly transfers my tea to a to-go cup and passes it across the counter to me. I have to take the cup with both hands because they are shaking so badly.

Fucking Micah. I can’t believe he blew me off.

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