Page 21 of Crybaby

“I wasn’t sneaking,” I state, relishing in the way her bottom lip quivers. “I calmly walked out of the house I just robbed.”

Her mouth parts.

“Your turn.”

She licks her lips, which sets me on fire.

Unable to stop myself, I run my thumb along her pouty bottom lip. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

She doesn’t appreciate me insinuating she’s weak, which is why I did it. She slaps my hand away, showing me the stubborn little rabbit I know lurks beneath the surface.

“I set it on fire because I don’t play with fire unless I’m willing to get burned. I set it on fire because I want to feel…something.”

“And did it work?” I ask softly, the mood soon shifting from playful to somber.

Peering up at from under her long lashes, she shakes her head. “Every action has a consequence…and this is mine,” she repeats, never breaking eye contact with me. “I don’t want to feel anything because it’s better not to. Being numb stops the whispers, late at night—when everyone is tucked safely into their beds—being numb stops the whispers that remind you of everything you’ve done.”

That visual hits hard as all I can think about is June being bound to that bed, a medicated zombie.

“What have you done, little rabbit?”

She steals my breath away when she closes the small space between us and presses her chest to mine. “Something very, very bad,” she whispers, her sweet scent making me weep. “And because of that, I’m forced to live with my zealot aunt and uncle.”

“Where are your parents?”

The air between us pricks with electricity—I can feel it all the way to my toes.

Leaning in close, she presses her lips to mine and whispers, “Dead.”

I’m the one to pull back…which is what the little rabbit wanted. She just fucking owned my ass, and I am besotted by whatever the fuck she’s throwing down.

She smirks, and if I’ve ever seen a hotter sight, then I don’t remember it because it pales compared to this.

“Wanna go to prom?”

We both recoil because, what in the actual fuck?

I have no idea why the fuck I just said that because I have no intention ofeverattending this fucking stupid rite of passage. But when Darcie seems to ponder on the idea, I wonder if my brief stint with insanity was a moment of ingenious madness.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” I repeat, wanting to kick my own ass for sounding like a fucking chump. “Not really sure what we’re supposed to do. I’ll watchCarrieto get up to speed.”

She purses her lips before a magical laugh spills from her. “Good…and I want a corsage. White.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Not sure how we went from talking about her dead parents to prom, but it’s just another day in the office for both Darcie and me, it seems.

This can only lead to trouble…and I can’t fucking wait.

Showering with a bunch of jocks is far from my ideal Thursday afternoon, but the same can’t be said for Coach Anderson. He’s in cock heaven.

“Don’t show weakness, boys! We have to dominate on and off the field!”

Not sure why this pep talk couldn’t wait until we’re not fucking naked, but whatever floats your boat.

The football team is standing under the showers, talking casually to one another while Coach Anderson peers at their junks subtly from behind his clipboard. Everyone knows he’s a fucking pervert, but they overlook it because of the success he’s had on the football field.

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