Moves Made
Theo
Iunderestimated her.
And she’s made her statement from the moment she walked in here dressed like that.
She does have feelings for me, so I need to stop pretending she doesn’t when the truth is right in front of me.
I watch as she gets her food, my eyes trailing to her thighs, that skirt is too short… and those stockings just scaled up the heat.
I would be a fucking idiot to pretend any longer… Yeah, there’s something there, but it’s something neither of us needs.
My brows furrow as I notice the attention she’s getting. As if she’s the new fruit for the claiming. And in this fucking room full of hormonal bastards, they’re drinking up every sway of her hips and ass.
My nostrils flare, rage seeping through me, watching as the spoon falls to the ground. Then she drops low like she’s fucking been practising this move her entire life.
But then again, it’s her; everything she does is fucking perfection.
And this time it’s obvious she’s not wearing shorts beneath that skirt.
I clench my jaw, my wolf prowling in my mind, and it takes a lot to contain him. The animalistic urge to warn everyone here to look the fuck away or have their heads ripped off is fucking growing.
She turns, scanning the room, and I scoff internally, knowing exactly what she’s playing at.
She pouts before making her way to a table in my direct line of vision and sits down, her skirt so fucking short it’s not even under her ass.
She rests her elbow on the table and folds one leg over the other.
I drag my eyes away, scanning the room. Way too many bastards are looking at her.
So, she wants to play, then let’s play.
I take out a cigarette and a lighter, flicking it as I light the cigarette and take a long drag, still playing with the lighter with my other hand.
A few of the boys have noticed my mood and have averted their gaze, but many are still mesmerised by the blond siren, who is fucking grating on my nerves.
Well then, if they won’t stop looking, then I’ll force them to leave.
I flick the lighter on, placing it beneath the table, waiting.
My eyes remain on her as she begins to eat, playing with a strand of her long hair.
The heat begins to rise, and when I feel it singe my hand, my eyes blaze just as someone shouts.
“Fire!”
I infuse my power into it, causing it to spread until the table is engulfed in flames. With one foot, I kick the table away from me. It screeches loudly, drawing everyone’s attention to it, including hers.
“Someone put it out! We have witches, right?!” someone shouts.
“Get the fuck out,” I snarl, my eyes now milk white. The hall falls silent, my aura growing, weighing down on the scum before me. They know better than to argue and begin making their way out. A few look pissed, others are taking their food, but none are brave enough to say anything to me directly.
But even as the fire alarms go off, the sprinklers pour down, Heaven doesn’t move.
I stand up and walk over to her as she continues eating without a care in the goddamn fucking world.
“Get the hell out of here,” I growl, glaring down at her.
She looks up at me, her make-up only making her look even sexier and a tad fucking brattier.
Why? Her words appear before me.
“Before you get burned,” I say, hating that I’m getting worked the fuck up over one woman showing the fuck off.
She smirks, cocking one of those perfect brows as she makes to wave her hand, but I grab hold of her wrist, knowing she’s about to put out the table on fire.
Our eyes meet, and her words appear in front of me.
I think you’re the one who’s burning, Westwood. Not me.
My heart races.
So, I was right. She did this to get a reaction from me, and she got it.
Fuck!
“You did it,” I say, something clicking.
She flicks her hair and tilts her head. Did what?
“The Heaven hexing hoes shit, what else? I’m right, init?” I ask quietly. She’s the reason I’m not fucking getting laid!
Think what you want, I’m not the one causing a scene that the entire school just witnessed, she writes in an extra dramatic fucking font.
I narrow my eyes. She can deny it, but it was her.
“I don’t care what the school thinks,” I say through gritted teeth. And I don’t care. After this, they will all know not to mess with me. “Who knows, you might have given me some fucking love potion or some shit, too.”
I know that’s bullshit, but I’m not about to admit that.
She takes a sip of her juice before she pats her mouth with a napkin and, uncrossing her legs, stands up with an arrogant smirk crossing her face. Even with heels, she’s still shorter than me.
I’m afraid that’s all you, Westwood. Aww… did you just admit to having feelings for me? she writes, with a mock pout on her face, before she folds her arms right beneath those breasts, pushing them up even more, and I drag my eyes up to her face.
Our eyes meet, and she’s smiling victoriously. She’s got my attention, and she knows it.
“That’s not what I said.” It kinda is, but…
I’ll see you later, she writes before she turns on her heel, about to saunter off, but I grab hold of her elbow and spin her back around. Her hands hit my chest as she looks up at me. And I fucking hate how I’m way too aware of her touch.
“I might find you hot, Sweetcheeks, but it’s just that. I’m not looking for anything and never will. And about your feelings, get over them. I’m the last person you want to fuck with.”
Her cheeks flush, although she knows I don’t mean that literally. But…
I stare at her cheeks, remembering the moments in the Gods’ Realm. Realising her cheeks weren’t turning pink from rage but something else. Wait, how long has she liked me?
I’ll get over them when you do, she declares, making me blink.
“Do I really need to tell your brother to keep you in check?” I ask mockingly.
Her eyes narrow. I dare you to, and you will regret it, she threatens as she pulls out of my hold.
I stare into her eyes; this is the perfect moment to give her voice back. But I don’t want her to get any ideas. I need her to get over me. I don’t want her to know I’m the one who got it back for her. That would just complicate shit.
This crush of hers needs to come to an end. It doesn’t need me fucking encouraging it.
“I think it’s best we stay away from one another; my path is one I need to walk alone. I don’t have time for distractions.” And you, Sweetcheeks, have become one.
She’s silent as she stares at me, and then she nods, unfazed. And that fucking stresses me the fuck out.
Of course, I understand. But then you will have to learn not to get so worked up over an outfit. Can you do that? she asks, with an expression that says she doesn’t think I can.
“Of course I can,” I answer. By beating the shit out of all those bastards until they get the message.
She nods haughtily before she pats my cheek. Good. Then we’re on the same page. With those words hanging in the air, she twirls around and exits the dinner hall, leaving me alone with the smoke-filled room.
Irritation flits through me, knowing she won’t stop. She’ll keep testing me until I fucking snap.
And why the fuck does that attitude just make me want her even more?
Old Hag Hesta steps into the room, her hands glowing with magic as she stares at me.
“Were you behind this, Mr Westwood?” she asks.
I take a drag on my cigarette and, ignoring her, leave the hall.
A few of the students linger outside, and my eyes roam over them. I remember every single one who dared to look at her, and a couple of them are right here.
I walk over to two seniors. They’re in the year above me. I stop a foot away from them and lean against the wall, taking a long drag on my cigarette before blowing out a few smoky skulls.
Then I look them dead in the eye.
“Hey…” one of them says, trying to hide his nerves. They may be strong wolves, but no one messes with me around here.
You’re better off if I don’t fucking know you.
“Make sure the word gets around, Aldona’s off-limits. Anyone who so much as checks her out will have me to deal with it,” I say quietly, my eyes hard.
The two exchange looks before glancing at me. “S-sure. We will,” the same one answers.
“Great,” I say, placing my cigarette between my lips and turning to the one who hasn’t yet spoken. He had stared at her for a moment too long.
I know how to read people, and I could tell exactly what had crossed his filthy mind.
“Glad we’re clear on that,” I murmur, before I suddenly raise my fist and punch him across the face. The sound of bones cracking and a howl of pain from him as he slumps back against the wall, sporting a broken, bloody nose, rings through the hall.
The hallway becomes silent. The number of students is small enough for me to remember who was present, and they won’t risk spreading it like wildfire, knowing I’ll be able to trace it right back to them. But still, enough of them to get the picture and get the word around quietly.
Now to go blow off some of this fucking steam.
Well fucking played, Heaven. Well fucking played.
It’s that night, and Jayce has asked me to come to our spot on the roof. I haven’t been there in a while, and as I slip past other students, walking down the silent corridors until I reach the small window, the nostalgia hits.
The same stone floors, the same view, the memories…
I climb up to see all four of my brothers there. Jayce is leaning against the wall with four 18” pizzas in front of him and cases of beer and Coca-Cola.
“The hell is this?” I grin as I look at them all.
Renji chuckles. “Jayce is throwing a going-away party.”
My smile falters. “When?” I ask.
“Tomorrow. But let’s not stress over it; it’s not goodbye, just see ya later. Now come on, let’s eat before it gets cold,” Jayce says.
“And I got music,” Carter adds.
“Keep it low,” Ares warns, as he flips open the first two boxes.
“It’s Benny’s?” I ask, recognising it by the smell.
“Yeah, has to be Benny’s, right?” Jayce asks.