Chapter 7 #2
When he finally quits his shit, he hands me his part, and I groan at him. “Can you just tell me which half you’re doing for the rest of them? I have a lot more on my plate with helping Avery and tutoring.”
Harley just grins and shakes his head. He is absolutely breathtaking. Literally, I can’t breathe if I look at him for longer than a second. But I’m seriously tempted to scratch his eyes out right now.
He reads this on my face and his grin grows wider. Asshole. “I forgot to tell you; I’ve dealt with our Rory issue. You can forget the piece of shit exists.”
I straighten, surprised. “What did you do?”
Avery and I have been torn on the best way to get rid of him.
I want something permanent, like death or severe mutilation.
I daydream sometimes about carving the word rapist into his face so every woman he encounters would know the type of guy he really is.
Avery enjoys louder, farther reaching forms of public humiliation more than physical violence.
She’s been digging around in his emails, texts, social media, anything she can to find something to destroy him with, but she’s found nothing so far.
Harley waves the teacher over to hand him our completed assignment. He’s damn near preening as the entire class glares at us both. “Have you ever been to a football game at Hannaford? The hot dogs are pretty good.”
I’ve never been to a football game, full-stop, end of sentence.
I’ve never watched a game on TV, either.
Mostly because I’ve only had access to a TV since moving in with Avery.
My mom never had one, and the one at the group home busted years before I got there.
They barely had funding to feed us, no one was worried about keeping us entertained.
I can’t say any of this to him, though. It’s too pathetic to say out loud.
My eyes narrow a fraction because it feels like he’s brushing over the Rory thing, but I’m intrigued. “Not yet. Is there one coming up? I do like hot dogs.”
He smirks and I have to admit that I love the smug look laced with a dark, malicious glee on his face that I know all too well.
I guess this is when he’s revealing what’s happening to Rory.
“Friday night, it’s a showcase game. Everyone leaves for the long weekend when it finishes.
Bring Aves, and we’ll make a night of it. ”
I nod and, despite myself, smile back at him, happy and relieved it’s being taken care of.
Harley’s grin slips a little and he glances away from me.
It’s hard not to be offended that he doesn’t like the look of my smiling face, especially when I’ve been sitting here practically basking in him .
I know I’m not ugly. I’m still on the scrawny side, but the food at Hannaford and Avery’s constant supply of coffee and ice cream means I’m filling in and I have some cleavage.
Not a lot, but enough to no longer look like a twelve-year-old boy.
My ass is also nicely rounded, which was a bit of a surprise to me.
I’ve honestly never eaten enough to have any kind of an ass, and my mom was always the sort of skinny only drug addicts can be.
Avery tells me it’s a good look in my booty shorts that I love so much, so I know I’m not hideous.
I pointedly shift my focus back to class and away from my wounded ego so I don’t wallow in it. Harley doesn’t try to speak to me again. He doesn’t even seem to notice the shift in my mood, but why would he when he’s looking anywhere but at me? God, kill me already.
When the class finishes, I head straight to the library for my tutoring session so I can take a minute to pick my brain up off the floor and remember why I don’t ever get involved with guys.
Why am I not a lesbian?
By the time Ash arrives, I’m mostly settled.
He gives me a curt nod and hands over a pile of assignments for me to look through.
Lance arrives as I hand it all back, because the universe is clearly trying to ruin my life completely.
Apparently, he’s absolutely clueless because despite Avery’s campaign, he still smiles at me like I’m his long-lost lover.
The whispers from the other students don’t seem to be affecting him at all, dammit, and here I was hoping that the argument with Blaise alone would be enough to get him to drop the tutoring sessions.
He’s got much thicker skin than I expected, and that only pisses me off more.
Half an hour in, it becomes clear that Blaise isn’t coming. I know the reason why, but the frown on Ash’s face tells me Blaise didn’t warn him he’d dropped out.
“Scared the crappy singer off?” Lance laughs, and I don’t even try to pretend I find it funny. He keeps looking at me through his eyelashes, and I cringe away from him.
“You’ll need to come up with better insults than that. Morrison sings like a fucking audible orgasm and saying otherwise is just stupid.”
That throws him off. Lance blanches and gapes at me. “Audible… orgasm?”
Ash squints at me like he’s waiting for the insult to come out, but I ignore him. “Yep. I’ve been listening to his music for years, and I love every fucking second of it, so pick something else to insult him about. Like his shitty attitude or his man-whore ways.”
Ash snorts and then slaps a hand over his mouth as if he’s just been caught cavorting with the enemy. I roll my eyes at him and get back to work as Lance sulks pathetically. I swear, the guys at this school are all moody, temperamental shits.
When the hour is up, Lance leaves with barely a goodbye. I pack up my stuff, but Ash just stares at me. I wait him out.
“No longer embarrassed about your obsession?” Ash sneers, but it really looks like he’s forcing it. Like he doesn’t want me to know he’s interested in the answer, but I’m now an expert in Beaumont bullshitting. I see right through him.
“Nope. Avery is obsessed with that Irish pop guy, and she’s choreographed her entire ballet performance piece this year to one of his songs.
Does that mean she wants to fuck some forty-year-old man with a bad hairline?
No. Last year I got flustered around Blaise because I was completely unaware that he went here and was facing someone I’d spent years listening to.
I admire his vocal talent. Doesn’t mean I want to fuck him or stalk him or…
any of the other things you’ve accused me of. So, get over it.”
Ash folds his arms and leans back in his seat. “Hypothetically, if Morrison wanted to fuck you?—”
I cut him off. “I’m not fucking any guy from Hannaford, hypothetically or otherwise. No one. Not a single one. No one will win the damn bet.”
I mean every word.
He doesn’t have to know it’s not exactly by choice.
After my classes are done for the day, I get back to our dorm and pass Avery in the hall.
She’s dressed for her contemporary dance class, and her bag is slung over her shoulder.
She quirks an eyebrow at me and pulls me into a hug.
I startle, but then she whispers, “There’s a rock star waiting in our room for his tutor. ”
Crap. I’d forgotten to tell Avery.
I pull back and scrunch my nose up at her.
She just laughs and heads off with a wave.
I have eight steps left to get myself together, and then I’m opening the door to find Blaise sprawled out on the floor with pizza boxes.
Where the hell he found the pizza is beyond me, but the smell is practically orgasmic to my empty stomach.
“You’re late, Mounty,” he teases, and I lock the door behind me. I roll my eyes at him because I’m three minutes late and he’s being an ass about it even though he’s never made it on time before.
“Just let me get changed out of this stupid uniform and then we can start.”
He nods and shoves a pizza slice into his mouth.
I flick the coffee machine on as I head into the bathroom and quickly pull on some yoga pants and a sweater.
I look like a toddler wearing her dad’s clothes, but it also feels a little like armor.
I know I look like crap, so it’s totally okay if Blaise thinks I do too.
I wonder if I could convince the teachers to let me wear it to class as well?
I sit down and hand Blaise a cup. He pushes a box closer to me and when I open it, I find a chicken, bacon, and mushroom pizza. My favorite. My eyes narrow.
“Did you ask Avery to get us dinner?” I ask as I gulp down some coffee. I’m exhausted, and by the look of the piles of assignments, Blaise isn’t planning on having a low-key evening. I might need to prioritize sleeping a bit more on the weekends now that we’re doing this.
“Nah, I drove into Haven to get it. She told me what you’d eat though. You didn’t tell her I was studying here?” He scratches his chest, and I can’t help but admire the tattoos peeking out from the collar of his Henley shirt.
“I forgot. I’m busier this year, and there’s more to do now that I’m keeping Avery safe.”
Blaise stares at me for a second, then chews his bottom lip. “Is she safe?”
Fuck, I hope so. “As safe as I can get her. Look, I’ve had a rough day. I appreciate you grabbing us dinner, I wouldn’t have eaten otherwise. Can we get into this so I can try to get a few hours of sleep?”
He nods and we fall into a quiet study session, the time passing quickly. Avery texts to say Ash is walking her back from dance, and I start to pack Blaise up to avoid a fight.
When we both stand, Blaise holds out an iPod. It’s an old one, nothing special, and it’s scuffed and scratched. I take it hesitantly.
“What's this?”
“A playlist. If we're going to be friends, then I'm taking advantage of your good taste in music. Give it a listen and let me know what you like. I’ll grab it next week, so wipe it and make me a list.”
My heart flutters and I silently tell it to calm the fuck down. He wants to swap music with me? That’s an irresistible move, and I’m sure he knows it too. What the hell is he playing at?
“How do you know I have good taste?”
Blaise grins at me and then sucks on his bottom lip, rolling it between his teeth. I force myself not to watch the action because I may drool.
“Well, you like Vanth. I'm assuming your taste must be decent.”
Then he leaves. I stare at the cushions he was sitting on, stunned, then with a smile, I put the headphones on and listen to the little piece of his soul he’s gifted me.