Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
H ave you ever felt the need to prove a point? I have that problem. Often. But never more than right now as I’m sitting in the cafeteria.
Krystal is next to me, quiet, probably because she knows I’m in a foul-ass mood. And it’s all because of him. Connor fucking O’Malley. I hate him. And I hate that I let him touch me the way he did in the bathroom this morning.
Also, the guy must have a death wish. He knows what would happen if either of our families found out he was messing around with me.
Mine would hunt him down and slaughter him like a fucking pig.
Actually, they’d have to beat me to it. Because right now, killing Connor seems like the easiest way to get rid of him.
I wanted to feel. More than anything, I wanted to find someone who could bring out those feelings I thought I’d never experience. I just don’t want it to be him . It’s not going to be him.
I refuse to let myself get carried away with someone I shouldn’t even be talking to.
I won’t do it. Nope. Not happening. And honestly, that stupidly pretty face of his with that stupid dimple just pisses me off.
I’m not turned on. I don’t want his hands back on my body.
Not at all. And the way he’s looking at me from across the room, like he has a right to be watching me?
Well, fuck…
A huge smile spreads across my face when an idea pops into my head. If he wants to see me lose control, then I’ll show him.
“Oh no, what is that look for? What are you about to do, Aurora? I know that look and it’s not good,” Krystal says.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell her while glancing around the cafeteria. I don’t see Dante or Orlando, which is good. And then I spot him. Kenny O’Malley. Connor’s cousin. And probably the only guy in this school who will let me use him the way I’m about to.
I stand and head straight towards Kenny. I don’t like the guy. He’s a jock and just as forbidden as Connor is. But I can fake it. I step out in front of him. Stopping him from getting to his table, where Connor is sitting, and take the tray of food from his hands.
“Aurora? Can I do something for you?” he asks, sounding almost amused.
“You can, actually.” I smile up at him. “Go along with it,” I tell him. “I need to prove a point to some dipshit and you’re going to help me.”
“You trying to get me killed?” He laughs.
“Not today.” I snake my arms around his neck and pull his head downwards. My lips crash onto his, and Kenny does not disappoint. His hands warm my back and he pulls me tight against him. His tongue pushes into my mouth, and even though I feel nothing—not a single damn flutter—I fake it.
My fingers twist in his hair, and I let out a little moan when we break apart. “Thanks for your help,” I say, patting Kenny’s chest before pivoting around.
My gaze falls to the table Connor is no longer sitting at, and then I hear the back door to the cafeteria slam against the wall.
He left. Huh, guess that bothered him. Good.
Let it. It’s not like he’s going to retaliate against his own cousin.
I’m not stupid. I’ve been around arrogant crime family kids my whole life. I know how these boys operate.
If I had kissed some ordinary guy, Connor probably would have beaten the shit out of him to prove a point. I know this because it’s exactly what my cousins would do. But as far as Connor is concerned, he needed to learn that I belong to no one and especially not him.
When I sit back down at the table next to Krystal, Dante is already there, glaring at me. “What the fuck was that about?” he asks me.
“What was what?” I play dumb.
“Don’t try to be cute, Aurora. Why the fuck were you kissing that fucker? Oh god, are you and him…?” Dante shakes his head from side to side. “No, just no .”
“First, no one died and made you boss. So shut your mouth, unless you want me to sew it shut for you. Second, I can and will kiss any-damn-body I want. I own me, not you, not anyone else.” I’m fuming by the time my rant is over.
Dante looks at Krystal. “Who pissed her off?”
“You?” Krystal says but phrases it as a question.
“Nope. What’s going on here? Who exactly are you trying to stir up, Aurora?” Dante’s gaze pierces into mine.
Good luck to him because I will never tell. Connor is a filthy little secret I’ll take to my damn grave.
“I’m not hungry anymore. Dante, nice chat as always. Oh, and you might want to think twice about eating Nonna’s cake on Sunday. Your slice might end up with something a little special in it,” I tell my cousin with a smile. “Krystal, catch you later.”
Walking out of the cafeteria, I get exactly five steps before I’m yanked into a dark room. My fist swipes out, connecting with whoever the fuck thought they could grab me. I’m reaching for the knife I have tucked in my skirt when I hear him.
“Ow, fuck me,” Connor groans.
“No thanks,” I grunt as I push against him before reaching for my phone. “Siri, turn on flashlight.” The room lights up and I see his face, his lip’s split, and I smile. I made him bleed. Again. “What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?” I hiss at him.
Connor wipes his lip with his thumb. “Me? What the hell was that out there? My fucking cousin, Aurora. Are you serious? You just made out with my fucking cousin in front of the whole fucking school.”
“So?”
“So?” he mimics and then laughs. Not a funny, ha-ha laugh. No, it’s more of an I’ve lost my whole damn mind , insane kind of laugh. One that has me taking a step back, a small step, but still a step.
I need to not let my guard down around this guy. I might have slept with him, one time, but I don’t know him. He could have dragged me in here to kill me, for all I know. I mean, it’s possible. He could try anyway. I wouldn’t go down without a fight, though.
“You don’t own me, Connor. We slept together one time. Get over it,” I tell him.
Connor tilts his head to the side. Those dark-green eyes sear into me. “Get over it? You want me to get over it?”
“Yes. I want you to leave me the hell alone. I want you to look the other way if you see me. Not stare. I want you to pretend that night never even happened.” It’s a lie.
I know it is as soon as the words leave my mouth.
I don’t want to forget that night, and I don’t want him to forget it either.
But I can lie and maybe eventually believe it. It’s better for both of us.
I don’t like Connor O’Malley. I do not want him to push me up against this door and make me come again. I do not want those lips of his on mine. Not in the slightest.
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. You see, you’re not easily forgettable, Aurora,” he says.
“Try harder,” I tell him. “You know who my family is. I know who your family is. There is no universe that exists where we are ever going to be anything more than strangers.”
“I’m not too good at doing what I’m told to do.
” Connor smirks. “And I couldn’t give a fuck who our families are.
I’m not done with you, and you sure as shit do not want to be done with me.
” Connor steps forward, his face a breath away from mine.
“Don’t go around kissing other guys to try to get me to back off. It won’t work.”
My knee jerks up, connecting with his balls, and my hands push against his chest. Connor curses and stumbles backwards. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, asshole,” I say, opening the door and storming out.
Who the fuck does he think he is? Anyone who knows me would tell you I will never let someone own me, control me.
Fuck that. I’m going back to the non-feelings way of life.
It was easier. Lonely? Sometimes, sure. But it was clean, simple.
Whatever this is with Connor is the opposite of clean and simple.
There are still two periods left before the end of the day, but I’m done. I can’t be here anymore.
A light tap on my bedroom door sounds out through my otherwise-quiet room. The door opens, and my mom’s voice breaks the silence. “Aurora, sweetheart, you okay?” she asks.
“I have a headache,” I tell her. It’s not far from the truth. Connor is a headache, and the way my mind can’t stop thinking about his stupid face is giving me a migraine.
“You need something for it?” Mom sits on the edge of my bed, her hand pressing against my forehead.
“I took some Tylenol. I just need to sleep it off I think,” I tell her.
“What’s going on? You’re not yourself?”
“Nothing. I’m just tired.”
She looks at me in that mom way, like she knows I’m bullshitting but she’s not going to press me. “We’re going to Italy for a month. We’re leaving tomorrow,” she says.
That has me shooting up in bed. “What? Why? I can’t just go to Italy for a month.” Then again, a whole month in another country might be what I need to end whatever this stupid thing is that I have for Connor.
“Dante got expelled. Your father got him down to a month’s suspension, and Nonna wants a family vacation, so we’re all going,” she says. “Dad’s arranged for you to miss school, but you’ll have to keep up with your studies remotely.”
Great. I don’t really care about doing school work. I’m not smart like Dante or gifted like Orlando with his music. I’m just me. And I’m okay with that. I have no intention of going to college, not that my parents know that yet.
When you come from a family of highly-successful people, it’s hard to be the one with no drive to be the best at anything. Well, maybe killing… torture. I think those are more my calling. Maybe I can just work for the family forever? Be their best hitwoman?
My Mom would hate the career choice, but she’ll come around. She always does.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s not ideal, but this is important to your grandparents,” Mom says.
“It’s fine,” I tell her. “What time are we leaving tomorrow?”
“Ten in the morning. Want me to pack for you? Should I call the doc to come check on you?”
“No, I’m okay. I can pack. I don’t need much.” Besides, it’s Italy. I can always shop.
When mom walks out, I pick up my phone and open Instagram. I might have already been stalking Connor on the app. But in my defense, he followed me first. I click on his name and tap the message button.
Me:
I have the solution for your obsession with me. I’m going away for a month. You have all that time to get over it.
He responds almost immediately.
Connor:
Where are you going? And do you really think a month is long enough to forget me? You’ll need longer than that, mo mhuirnín.
I copy the last words he typed and paste them into Google to find out what it is he keeps calling me. My sweetheart. Oh, hell no. Opening the social media app again, I write back.
Me:
Wasn’t obsessed to begin with, so nothing to get over for me. And I’m nobody’s sweetheart, asshole.