Three
Bianca
“S hit,” I hissed, shouldering my bag as I rushed down the hallway of the science building the following morning. The map given to me yesterday fluttered from my hands as a student elbowed me in passing.
My book bag banged against the back of my head as I swooped down to snatch the paper before it hit the ground.
Without it, not only would I not know where the buildings were, but I wouldn’t know what my classes were either since my schedule was printed on the other side.
I jerked my hand away as a polished black shoe came down on it.
“And who do we have here?” a deep, slightly accented voice rumbled, causing goosebumps to pop up along my skin.
If I had to guess, I’d say he was Italian. So much authority resonated with his silky words that I found myself looking up at him from my knees like some hostage.
My breath caught in my chest as I locked gazes with the most vivid green eyes I’d ever seen. He cocked his head at me, his dark hair falling across his forehead.
“I asked your name.” He lifted an eyebrow at me.
Don’t gawk at him. Say something!
“Bianca,” my voice cracked. The heat from my flush had me ducking my head.
“Bianca,” he purred, startling me as he kneeled in front of me, his finger beneath my chin tilting my face up.
Being even closer to him made me realize I’d had it wrong.
He wasn’t simply handsome. He was outright gorgeous.
Everything about him had me reeling—the way his woodsy cologne blanketed me, how flawless his skin was, his long, dark lashes, those full, pouty lips, and that body.
His biceps strained against his navy uniform blazer.
“What’s your last name, Bianca?”
I cleared my throat and averted my gaze, not wanting to answer.
He let out a sigh and looked at the name printed in bold on my schedule lying face up on the floor.
“D’Angelou? As in David D’Angelou?”
“What of it?” I demanded, hating already David had a name here. Knowing my stepfather, he probably had more enemies than friends among the legacy students. I looked down and reached for my schedule, eager to get away from his overwhelming presence.
He grasped my face tightly, forcing my attention back to him.
“When I speak to you, you look at me. When I ask a question, you provide an answer. Do you understand, Bianca D’Angelou? ” The words fell off his lips like poison.
It was as if night had fallen on an angel. He’d gone from seemingly sweet to downright dark as his gaze hardened into a glare.
“Who the hell do you even think you are?” I snarled back, jerking out of his grasp. Gorgeous or not, I wasn’t going to put up with his shit. I already had enough assholes in my life to contend with.
“I’m your worst nightmare. You need to watch where you’re going and who you’re inconveniencing,” he growled, his lips set in a deep sneer. “Being the daughter of D’Angelou won’t earn you any brownie points with the kings.”
“Didn’t know my getting to class would inconvenience the royalty here.” I reached out and grabbed my schedule from beneath his shoe. The ripping sound as it tore in half had me closing my eyes and sucking in a deep breath. As if my day hadn’t already been shitty, now I only had half a schedule.
Mystery guy reached beneath his shoe and picked up the other half. With his eyes locked on mine, he crumpled it into a tiny ball and pitched it over my head into the surge of students.
“Dick,” I snarled at him before standing up and whipping my back to him and making to leave. A squeak of surprise left my mouth as he tugged me against him, his fingers digging painfully into my bicep.
“Watch yourself, wasp . You’ve got a mark on your head now.” His warm breath blew against the shell of my ear with his warning.
“Likewise, asshole.” I checked his ribs with my elbow, causing him to loosen his grip.
I doubted I’d caused him any pain since it felt like my elbow had connected with a brick wall, but he released me anyway. I darted away. When I felt like I was a safe distance from him, I cast a glance over my shoulder.
He stood where I’d left him, his eyes narrowed at me, students giving him a wide berth.
Whoever he was, I’d make it a point to stay away. He had trouble written all over him.