A sigh came out before I could stifle it, as I watched Carter rip off his T-shirt, using it to wipe over his face. My eyes roamed over his body, glistening with sweat, all his muscles pumped and defined. And the veins on his arms…
Lena interrupted my very thorough perusal. “Need a tissue for the drool?” She started cracking up, and I buried my face in my hands.
“I’m so stupid, aren’t I? Lusting after him, when he acts like such an asshole, and I know nothing can or even should ever happen between us?”
“You’re not stupid. And I wouldn’t be so sure about nothing happening. Why don’t you go and talk to him?”
I recoiled. “What? No! No way.”
“Comfort zone.” Lena gave me a challenging look. “If he treats you like shit, I want you to stand up to him. Don’t let him bully you. He wants you, and he doesn’t like that fact, and he’s taking it out on you. Yeah, you tricked him, but he needs to get over it. And you—you need to learn to stand up to him, show him you won’t take it anymore.”
“You’re right.” My voice was barely above a whisper.
“Go. I’ll be waiting. If you need me… No. You can handle this.”
I hoped she was right. Clambering to my feet, I glanced over to see him over the opposite side of the bowl, and I began to push my way through the crowds towards him.
By the time I made it over to the other side of the bowl, he’d managed to acquire a girl under each arm, and my stomach sank as I saw who the girl on the left was. Anastasia, his ex-girlfriend. I took a step back. I couldn’t go up to him now, not while she was there. The whole football team looked like they were there, too, surrounded by girls. Intimidated wasn’t even the word for it. I was way out of my depth.
Stumbling backwards, I almost fell into Preston, one of the team strikers, who was eyeing Kian with concern. “This wasn’t a good idea,” he muttered. “Either one of you could’ve been hurt.”
Kian’s reply was lost to me as Carter’s head lifted and his eyes met mine. They widened, pure shock falling across his face as he took in the sight of me standing there. I took another step back, then another, and I turned and fled, pushing through the crowds and escaping to the relative safety of the graffiti wall.
“Raine.” The low voice stopped me in my tracks, and I turned to see Carter staring at me. “What are you doing here?” He was still breathing heavily, amped up from his fight, his hair wet from the water he’d tipped all over it. He’d never looked sexier, and I suddenly found it difficult to get any air into my lungs.
“Carter.” That was all I could say, before he was right in front of me, his hands sliding into my hair and tilting my head upwards to meet his eyes. We stood, frozen in time, in this dark corner of the park.
“Raine,” he repeated, lowering his head.
“Having fun with Anastasia?” As soon as the words escaped me, I clamped my mouth shut. There was no way he hadn’t noticed the thinly disguised jealousy in my voice.
Drawing back, he studied me intently for a moment, the silence between us growing uncomfortable, before he gave a heavy sigh. “Ana’s my ex for a reason, Raine. Whatever you think you saw, you’re wrong.” He closed his eyes briefly, his lashes sweeping down, before he focused on me again. “You shouldn’t be here. Are you following me?”
“I didn’t even know you’d be here,” I said truthfully. “When I saw you fight, though…” I trailed off, realising I’d admitted too much, and he smiled as he slid his hands to my back, pulling me closer.
“You like watching me fight?” I buried my face in his chest, unable to answer, and he laughed softly. “Don’t be shy, now.” His voice lowered as he ran his hands down my back. “Tell me. Did it make you wet for me?”
My breath hitched at his words, and when he unexpectedly slid his hand down between my legs, I gasped, pushing my hips into him.
“Fucking jeans. I want to feel you.” He rubbed the palm of his hand against me, and I whimpered at the friction. “What are you doing to me,” he said, almost to himself. Then he glanced around him, seeming to remember where we were.
That was enough to snap me out of it.
Pushing him away, I staggered backwards until I was against the wall. I noticed his eyes go to the side of me.
“Little trickster,” he murmured. “I should’ve known.” My eyes followed his gaze to the painted mask, black with blue highlights. A permanent reminder of our night together. At least, until someone else graffitied over it, I guess.
A sigh escaped me, and I faltered for a moment, before pulling myself together. “We need to talk.” I injected all the firmness into my voice as I could muster, and he took a step backwards, scrubbing his hand over his face.
“Talk.” He threw up his hands. “Go ahead.”
I steeled myself, then spoke, the words tumbling out of my mouth in a rush. “Why did you get me kicked out of drama club? I know you stole the money and framed me. If you could admit it and make it right, we could move past it and have a fresh start.”
The change in him was instantaneous, like a switch being flicked. His jaw dropped and he stared at me, his eyes hardening, back to the Carter that
