help.”
Winning feels great. Awesome. Drives me
higher than anything else in the world. The twisting and pressure that I so often feel—
gone. Winning leaves my muscles loose,
makes me lift my head higher, and damn if it doesn’t bring on a smile. “You may not want it, but you need it.”
The second bell rings and Beth slams into my arm as she stalks past. Twenty bucks she thinks she’s late for class. “It’s only second bell.”
She hesitates and her spine goes rigid. “How many are there?”
“After lunch?” I casually walk up to her.
HC TITLE-AUTHOR
142
This is too much fun. “Three. One to
release lunch. A two-minute warning bell.
Then the tardy bell.”
She releases a slow stream of air from her perfectly shaped lips, and relief relaxes her cheeks. This girl is sexy, but she’s also a handful. If I hadn’t accepted the dare, I’d toss her into avoid-like-the-plague territory.
“What’s your next class?”
“Go to hell.” Beth rushes down the hallway and I pursue her at a leisurely pace.
Lockers lurch open and clang shut. Chatter fills the hallway. People stop and stare as Beth moves. Moves—that’s exactly what the girl does. She holds her head high and owns the middle of the hallway. A few kids have
transferred to this school since my freshman year, but they spent their first couple of weeks trying to blend into the paint. Not Beth. Her hips have this easy sway that catches the eye of every guy, including me.
Beth checks out the numbers over the doors, no doubt searching for her fifth-period room. I pick up the pace and fall in step with her as she pulls a badly folded schedule out of her back pocket. Her thumb skims the list until it finds HC TITLE-AUTHOR
143
its target: Health/Physical Education.
The odds of winning just increased in my
favor. That’s my next class too. “I can show you where it is.”
“Are you stalking me? If so, you’ll get your ass kicked.”
“By who? The guy you made out with in the tree line?” I have a hard time believing that a man as great as Scott Risk would allow his niece to date Tattoo Guy, but maybe that’s why he switched her schools. You gotta love a man who takes care of family. “Sorry to tell you, but I can hold my own.”
Beth wears a scowl that could kill on sight.
“Threaten Isaiah again and I’ll kick your ass.”
I chuckle at the thought of the tiny, black-haired threat throwing swings at me. Punches from her would feel like a bunny biting a lion.
By the way she pinches her lips together, I can tell my laughter pisses her off. Time to end this bull. “I’m just trying to be helpful.”
“Helpful? You mean you’re trying to help
yourself. You’re a walking hard-on for my uncle.”
A muscle near my eye ticks. On rare
occasions, bunnies can develop rabies, and HC TITLE-AUTHOR
144
Scott did warn me she was rough around
the edges. He failed to mention that razor blades are her softest layer. My mouth snaps open to ask what the hell is wrong with her when Lacy sidles between us. She shoots me a warning glare. “I got this.”
“Come on, dawg.” Chris waggles his
eyebrows and I realize he sent in Lacy to disturb us, thinking he interrupted me making a play. “Let’s go to class.”
“Yeah.” Class. I want to win the dare, but that won’t happen if I lose my temper. I follow Chris, willing to do anything to get away from Beth.
HC TITLE-AUTHOR
145
Beth
The moment Ryan turns his back, I sag against a purple locker. The acrid smell of fresh paint fills my nose. Watch—the damn locker is
newly painted and I’ll have purple on my ass.
A hallway full of strange teenagers gawk at me like I’m an animal caged at the zoo. I swallow when two girls giggle as they pass.
Both crane their necks to get a better glimpse of the new school freak.
People judge. They’re judging me now.
“Your hair used to be blond,” says Lacy.
What is the deal with the people in this town and my hair? I barely recognize
Winning feels great. Awesome. Drives me
higher than anything else in the world. The twisting and pressure that I so often feel—
gone. Winning leaves my muscles loose,
makes me lift my head higher, and damn if it doesn’t bring on a smile. “You may not want it, but you need it.”
The second bell rings and Beth slams into my arm as she stalks past. Twenty bucks she thinks she’s late for class. “It’s only second bell.”
She hesitates and her spine goes rigid. “How many are there?”
“After lunch?” I casually walk up to her.
HC TITLE-AUTHOR
142
This is too much fun. “Three. One to
release lunch. A two-minute warning bell.
Then the tardy bell.”
She releases a slow stream of air from her perfectly shaped lips, and relief relaxes her cheeks. This girl is sexy, but she’s also a handful. If I hadn’t accepted the dare, I’d toss her into avoid-like-the-plague territory.
“What’s your next class?”
“Go to hell.” Beth rushes down the hallway and I pursue her at a leisurely pace.
Lockers lurch open and clang shut. Chatter fills the hallway. People stop and stare as Beth moves. Moves—that’s exactly what the girl does. She holds her head high and owns the middle of the hallway. A few kids have
transferred to this school since my freshman year, but they spent their first couple of weeks trying to blend into the paint. Not Beth. Her hips have this easy sway that catches the eye of every guy, including me.
Beth checks out the numbers over the doors, no doubt searching for her fifth-period room. I pick up the pace and fall in step with her as she pulls a badly folded schedule out of her back pocket. Her thumb skims the list until it finds HC TITLE-AUTHOR
143
its target: Health/Physical Education.
The odds of winning just increased in my
favor. That’s my next class too. “I can show you where it is.”
“Are you stalking me? If so, you’ll get your ass kicked.”
“By who? The guy you made out with in the tree line?” I have a hard time believing that a man as great as Scott Risk would allow his niece to date Tattoo Guy, but maybe that’s why he switched her schools. You gotta love a man who takes care of family. “Sorry to tell you, but I can hold my own.”
Beth wears a scowl that could kill on sight.
“Threaten Isaiah again and I’ll kick your ass.”
I chuckle at the thought of the tiny, black-haired threat throwing swings at me. Punches from her would feel like a bunny biting a lion.
By the way she pinches her lips together, I can tell my laughter pisses her off. Time to end this bull. “I’m just trying to be helpful.”
“Helpful? You mean you’re trying to help
yourself. You’re a walking hard-on for my uncle.”
A muscle near my eye ticks. On rare
occasions, bunnies can develop rabies, and HC TITLE-AUTHOR
144
Scott did warn me she was rough around
the edges. He failed to mention that razor blades are her softest layer. My mouth snaps open to ask what the hell is wrong with her when Lacy sidles between us. She shoots me a warning glare. “I got this.”
“Come on, dawg.” Chris waggles his
eyebrows and I realize he sent in Lacy to disturb us, thinking he interrupted me making a play. “Let’s go to class.”
“Yeah.” Class. I want to win the dare, but that won’t happen if I lose my temper. I follow Chris, willing to do anything to get away from Beth.
HC TITLE-AUTHOR
145
Beth
The moment Ryan turns his back, I sag against a purple locker. The acrid smell of fresh paint fills my nose. Watch—the damn locker is
newly painted and I’ll have purple on my ass.
A hallway full of strange teenagers gawk at me like I’m an animal caged at the zoo. I swallow when two girls giggle as they pass.
Both crane their necks to get a better glimpse of the new school freak.
People judge. They’re judging me now.
“Your hair used to be blond,” says Lacy.
What is the deal with the people in this town and my hair? I barely recognize
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