She goes back and sits on the floor, facing the sofa from the other side of the coffee table.
As always, Posey is the group leader and already has her laptop open.
Those boys should have known better than to think she would let the whole night pass without at least talking about schoolwork for a little while.
“Mind if we put the TV on?”
Brad-or is it Pete?
I didn’t learn the difference-picks up the remote before Mia can answer.
The firm set of her jaw tells them she doesn’t like them making themselves at home so soon, but she lets it go.
They find a sports channel and settle in front of a football game, both their plates piled with food.
I wonder what they would do if I walked over and took their plates away.
Fucking freeloaders.
At least I know I don’t have to worry about them tonight.
Dean, on the other hand?
He’s sitting next to Mia, angled in her direction.
“So I was thinking we should go in order of our eras, right?
Mia would go first, Zoe second, then me, then Posey.”
“That makes sense,” Zoe agrees.
I’m not sure who she likes more, Dean or me.
Sadly, she’s not going to have much luck either way.
We both have our eyes on the same girl, and it’s not her.
“Of course, that’s how we would do it.”
Posey snickers, looking away from her screen long enough to roll her eyes at Dean.
“Way to make it seem like you’re contributing, though.”
One of the other two guys bursts out laughing.
“Damn, she got you!”
Dean only narrows his eyes at his friend, which strikes me as interesting.
He gave me the same kind of look that day in the classroom, the week after I stopped Mia from going to his place.
It didn’t last long, that look, but now I know I wasn’t imagining things.
Is that why he bothers me so much?
He’s like the stereotypical so-called good guy who has a nasty streak underneath that he tries to hide.
Now, I don’t know that for sure, and I could be making shit up to have more reason to hate him.
But I’m starting to wonder.
Either way, I can’t afford to trust anybody.
Pretty soon, their chatter fades into the background while I play a game on my phone.
Maybe I’m the problem here.
I’m too protective of her.
Jealous of anybody who looks at her in a way I don’t like.
I would never in a million years admit I’m second-guessing myself since I don’t want her getting the wrong idea.
But I can’t shake the feeling.
To my surprise, a plate of food slides in front of me after a while.
“The calzone’s cold,” Mia informs me in a low voice, “but it’s still good.”
I don’t have the chance to thank her before she continues to the fridge.
Is this a peace offering?
I’ll accept it, at least for now.
“She got him food, did you see?
I told Dean.
She’s not into him.”
I pretend I can’t hear what Brad and Pete are muttering back and forth, munching on an apple slice with my eyes on my phone.
Really, I’m focused on them.
I can’t even taste what’s in my mouth.
“Seriously, he needs to move on.
If it hasn’t happened yet…”
The other one snorts.
“Redhead would drop her panties for him here and now.
I keep telling him.
Stick to what’s easy.”
Can Zoe hear them?
I don’t think so-she’s talking about her part in their project, totally oblivious.
I swing my head slowly in their direction, staring at them with a blank expression I’ve perfected over time.
Eventually, one of them notices and starts choking on whatever he’s eating.
The other one hits him on the back until the choking stops.
Fucking assholes.
This confirms what I already knew: he’s into her, so much so that he’s told his friends about her.
That doesn’t bode well.
What bodes even worse, I realize as I swing my attention in her direction, is the way she leans against him while she laughs at a joke I didn’t hear.
The way she touches a hand to his shoulder and the way he smiles when she does it.
Mine.
She’s mine.
Nobody else’s.
But how can I keep her for myself?
She was never meant for me.
But she is meant for me.
Just for me.
Nobody else comes close.
That’s when it happens.
When Dean goes from smiling at Mia to looking my way-and when he finds me watching, his smile widens.
We don’t need to exchange a word for me to know what’s on his mind.
See this?
I’ve got her.
She’s mine.
“Hey, Mia?”
I stand fast enough to almost knock the stool over.
I don’t say another word, heading for her room.
If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll follow me without making a big deal about it.
She murmurs something but joins me a moment later.
“What now?”
she whispers, arms folded.
“I thought things were going well.”
I open my mouth but realize I don’t know what I want to say.
I didn’t plan anything to say.
I only wanted to get her away from him.
How am I supposed to explain that?
I can’t.
At least, not in words.
This is why I explain the only way I know how to.
By taking her by the back of the head and pulling her in for a hard, deep kiss.
Chapter 16: Mia
16
MIA
Oh, my God.
At first, my instinct tells me to push him away.
Maybe kick him in the balls before I do.
He has no right.
He shouldn’t.
And oh, I want him too.
Forever.
Right here, in this spot, he could kiss me on and on until we both die of dehydration or starvation or whatever comes first.
I don’t care.
Because the second his hand cupped the back of my head, I knew this was right.
This is what was always going to happen.
We fought as hard as we could, but it was no use.
So when he forces his tongue between my lips and plunges into my mouth, I meet it with mine.
He groans, the rumbling low in his chest, and I’m lost.
Completely gone.
My hands find his shoulders and press into his unyielding muscles, my need for him strong enough to make my knees shake.
With his free hand, he slides down my back and finally cups my ass, hauling me in closer until our bodies are flush, and I can feel what’s growing in his pants.
I’ve never wanted anything more than to reach between us and rub him there, to get him off like he did for me.
But I can’t.
Not now, not ever.
It takes all the self-control I have to break the kiss, and even then, he nips my bottom lip before letting me go.
It tingles in the best way.
“What are you doing?”
I whisper between gasps of air.
“You couldn’t tell?
Am I that out of practice?”
He squeezes my ass again, harder this time, and I moan before I can help myself.
I know that will only encourage him, so I take a deep breath and try to come up with a reason he shouldn’t take me here and now.
“There are people out there.
You can’t do this.”
“Is that all that’s stopping you?”
He traces the line of my jaw before stroking my throat.
Fire races over my skin, following the path of his fingers like the tail behind a comet.
All I want is to lean into his touch and forget everything else.
“Send them home.”
“You can’t do this.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.