before I realize I forgot my damn helmet. I’m already cutting it close and this will make two times in less than a week that I’ve been late. It’s not my style and I’m distracted when I get back downstairs.
I actually smell her before I see her. The strong scent of strawberries nearly knocks me over. Oh, wait. No – that was just her.
“Whoa, watch where you’re going.” The words are out before I can think and I realize I probably sound like an asshole. For some reason, I don’t want her to think I’m an asshole.
“Sorry,” she apologizes, but she looks right through me. I don’t know what possesses me to try to engage her in conversation. Clearly, she is not interested.
“You know, princess, you never told me your name.”
She glares at me like she wishes I would disappear. What the fuck?
“Not gonna, either.”
She may be cute and she may smell sweetly of strawberries, but the way she is looking at me right now tells me she’s no different from every other girl who thinks she’s better than me. Every kid I went to high school with who thought that they had the right to torture me because my dad killed my mother. I hate her.
“Oh right. Too good for me. Little innocent princess like you.”
I’m sick of the pretension and the entitlement of people like her. As if she gets to look at me like she is just because her life is fucking easy.
I grip my helmet tightly, fighting the urge to slam it into the wall. I don’t know why I don’t just walk away, but fuck her if she thinks she can come here and assume anything. What is she – a freshman? Fuck. I can barely see through the red haze of anger.
“Seriously, what’s your problem?” She asks me as if she wants an answer, and since I haven’t walked away, I decide to oblige her.
“I just see the way you look at people like me. Daddy paying for everything so you have no idea what it’s really like. You think you have every right to judge.”
“As a matter of fact, I’m on scholarship.” She says it as if she’s proud to be able to prove me wrong, but it changes very little.
“Oh great, a smart snob.”
She meets my gaze and I soften, despite how angry I am. Her fucking eyes. Why are her eyes so beautiful? I check out the rest of her; she isn’t anything special. Cute, yes. Maybe even pretty. But there is nothing about her that warrants how much I want to prove something to her.
I will myself not to meet her eyes this time, because I can’t deal with feeling something for another person and she’s making me feel something. I can’t even control my emotions with her near me. I both want to hurt her and kiss her.
She sighs. “Whatever.”
She pushes past me and is almost to the elevator. Rage, curiosity, and an undeniable attraction all swell inside of me and I call out, “Hey, princess.”
She turns around and this time I can’t help it. I look at her eyes.
“Don’t forget. 401. You look wound up. I would be happy to help.”
I take off and I don’t look back to see if she reacts. I walk faster than I normally do, because I need to ride and I need to go to work and I need to stop thinking about her. You’re wasting your time , I remind myself.
It takes until I’m halfway through my shift before I can breathe without feeling the ache inside my chest.
****
It figures that I don’t even make it back to the dorm that night before she’s there again. Of course, she walks in to me. For some reason, she’s pissed about it.
“Seriously? Are you stalking me?” She looks at me like how dare I walk around on my own college campus. What a bitch.
And yet – here I stand. Like a tool.
“Yeah, because I desperately want to stalk an uptight princess who cannot even pay attention to where she’s going. If you must know, I just got off work.”
Why are you acknowledging her? Walk away. Walk away NOW. The logical voice is right, but my feet don’t move.
Strawberries smiles and gestures vaguely into the woods. “Oh
I actually smell her before I see her. The strong scent of strawberries nearly knocks me over. Oh, wait. No – that was just her.
“Whoa, watch where you’re going.” The words are out before I can think and I realize I probably sound like an asshole. For some reason, I don’t want her to think I’m an asshole.
“Sorry,” she apologizes, but she looks right through me. I don’t know what possesses me to try to engage her in conversation. Clearly, she is not interested.
“You know, princess, you never told me your name.”
She glares at me like she wishes I would disappear. What the fuck?
“Not gonna, either.”
She may be cute and she may smell sweetly of strawberries, but the way she is looking at me right now tells me she’s no different from every other girl who thinks she’s better than me. Every kid I went to high school with who thought that they had the right to torture me because my dad killed my mother. I hate her.
“Oh right. Too good for me. Little innocent princess like you.”
I’m sick of the pretension and the entitlement of people like her. As if she gets to look at me like she is just because her life is fucking easy.
I grip my helmet tightly, fighting the urge to slam it into the wall. I don’t know why I don’t just walk away, but fuck her if she thinks she can come here and assume anything. What is she – a freshman? Fuck. I can barely see through the red haze of anger.
“Seriously, what’s your problem?” She asks me as if she wants an answer, and since I haven’t walked away, I decide to oblige her.
“I just see the way you look at people like me. Daddy paying for everything so you have no idea what it’s really like. You think you have every right to judge.”
“As a matter of fact, I’m on scholarship.” She says it as if she’s proud to be able to prove me wrong, but it changes very little.
“Oh great, a smart snob.”
She meets my gaze and I soften, despite how angry I am. Her fucking eyes. Why are her eyes so beautiful? I check out the rest of her; she isn’t anything special. Cute, yes. Maybe even pretty. But there is nothing about her that warrants how much I want to prove something to her.
I will myself not to meet her eyes this time, because I can’t deal with feeling something for another person and she’s making me feel something. I can’t even control my emotions with her near me. I both want to hurt her and kiss her.
She sighs. “Whatever.”
She pushes past me and is almost to the elevator. Rage, curiosity, and an undeniable attraction all swell inside of me and I call out, “Hey, princess.”
She turns around and this time I can’t help it. I look at her eyes.
“Don’t forget. 401. You look wound up. I would be happy to help.”
I take off and I don’t look back to see if she reacts. I walk faster than I normally do, because I need to ride and I need to go to work and I need to stop thinking about her. You’re wasting your time , I remind myself.
It takes until I’m halfway through my shift before I can breathe without feeling the ache inside my chest.
****
It figures that I don’t even make it back to the dorm that night before she’s there again. Of course, she walks in to me. For some reason, she’s pissed about it.
“Seriously? Are you stalking me?” She looks at me like how dare I walk around on my own college campus. What a bitch.
And yet – here I stand. Like a tool.
“Yeah, because I desperately want to stalk an uptight princess who cannot even pay attention to where she’s going. If you must know, I just got off work.”
Why are you acknowledging her? Walk away. Walk away NOW. The logical voice is right, but my feet don’t move.
Strawberries smiles and gestures vaguely into the woods. “Oh
Similar Books
Capital Wives
Rochelle Alers
Wicked Demons
Reece Vita Asher
Gently Continental
Alan Hunter
Eternity's Edge
Bryan Davis
The Scribe
Elizabeth Hunter
The Beautiful Anthology
Unknown
Soldier Girl
Annie Murray
Ash Rising (DEAd Series)
Melissa Fox
Restless Spirit
Sommer Marsden