Before I can say hello, or apologize for leaving him yesterday, or even explain my noteworthy investigative journalism skills, he’s kissing me. Lifting me and bracing me against the wall, my legs wrapping around his waist.
His hands cup my ass, under the hem of my skirt, and when he grinds into me, I moan his name. I hadn’t expected to be taken in a janitor’s supply room, and truthfully, there’s not much time in my schedule today for sex. I should be out there, in the thick of the fundraiser. Setting things right with Summer. Taking photos for the paper. Collecting quotes for my article. I forget all of that, however, and concentrate on Spencer. On how much I love that he takes all my carefully laid plans and says, fuck ‘em.
He makes me focus on the here and now. Makes time slow and the moment take over. Elevates every sense in my body so much so that it takes over whatever’s on my mind. And I want to bask in that, in how much I love he’s given me that break from thinking and left me only with beautiful, perfect feeling.
Those words grace my tongue again, and I grin into his kiss. Pull back and hold his face in my hands. I’m ready. I’m not going to stop them this time. I’m going to say them. I’m going to tell Spencer Armstrong that I love him.
I open my mouth. Just as Spencer asks, “Well, did it work, princess?”
“Did what work?” I ask, partially dazed, I’d been so in the moment.
Spencer stares at me with a hard scowl. Is that how he looked, walking into the room? I’d barely noticed, all I’d wanted was to be in his embrace.
“He’s here. Keeland,” he says.
Oh. Ashton. I roll my eyes. I don’t know if my ex singled out my friends, or Spencer in particular because they had beef last semester, but apparently, my outburst in the newspaper room hadn’t been enough to deter him. Unfortunately.
“Was he being insufferable? I told him to—”
“You know,” Spencer’s eyes darken. “That he’s here.”
“Yes, but only because—”
“So did it fucking work or not?”
“Did what work?” I ask, my rising tone matching his. Bewildered by his harshness, I drop my legs.
“Did I bang him out of your system?” Spencer seethes. That well-known anger resurfaces. His shoulders bunch and his nostrils flare and he glares at me like he’s never seen me before. Like he doesn’t know me.
But he does. And I know him. Though I don’t know what’s gotten into him, I know we can discuss it. That once he calms down, we can work through whatever it is that has him looking at me in that way.
I soothe my fingers over his jaw. “Spencer, breathe.”
He pulls away. “I don’t want to fucking breathe, Kennedy.”
His harsh tone makes my shoulders hike. My own temper swirls to the surface.
“I don’t care about Ashton.” The words well in my chest. Boil up, as easily as they’ve wanted to since the moment I realized how I truly felt. They rise up, up, up, through my throat to my tongue, past my lips—“I love you.”
There’s a second. One silent moment where all emotion wipes off Spencer’s face. And just as quickly, it returns. A light in his dark eyes that gives me hope, that has my heart racing—
Before it douses in an instant, and Spencer’s mean scowl becomes downright malicious.
“Do you?” he taunts. “Because we can fucking test it. Hop on my dick right now, and when we’re done, we can go out there and see if you feel differently. Or if you still want to bring him back here and let him do the same—”
I shove him away from me.
“Fuck you,” I whisper, the only words coming to me now. Louder, sharper, thick with unshed tears, I repeat them. “Fuck. You.”
“Kennedy—”
I shake my head and rush for the door. Needing to be away from him. Before he says anything else. Before his next words cut into me even more. I throw the door open, not looking back at him. Barely seeing in front of me through the water in my eyes.
So I don’t notice the figure standing on the other side of the doorway until she hisses, “Fucking slut!”
Meegan blocks my exit, hands on her hips.
“I thought it was a joke,” she speaks to the man in the room behind me. “I thought there’s no fucking way this prissy bitch would let you near her.” She stares me down, mouth tightening when her gaze dips below my waist. “Congrats, Spencer. You really can fuck your way into any girl’s panties.”
Belatedly, I straighten my skirt, realizing my brief makeout with Spencer had hiked it up my hips.
I attempt to push past her. She stops me.
“What’s the matter?” she asks when I drag a hand under my eyes. “Realize he’s not as good a lay as everyone says? Or, oh, no—” She laughs, cruelly. “You didn’t think he’d want to do more than fuck you, did you? Fat fucking chance. The only pussy to keep him coming back is mine, you fucking—”
I don’t want to hear what she’ll call me, to have her kick me down when Spencer already did that for her. I try to tune out her words, almost missing what she’d said. I thought it was a joke.
Someone told her. Someone told her about Spencer and me. My secret.
Someone who hadn’t been happy about me finding out her secret.
I use all my strength to break past her. To hurry back to the atrium and be done with both of them. To find Summer and ask why. Only when I step through the doors, I realize too late Meegan’s followed me. She grabs my arm, yanking me to a standstill.
“Leave me alone.” I pull my arm away.
She grabs me again, this time by my ponytail. I yelp from the pain and the shock, drawing the
