Boarding with the Bad Boy [COMPLETE + BONUS published edition]

THE BOARDERS: 14

Sam

I watched Somers exit the dorm and start struggling down the path toward the boarder lot before storming to the door and locking it. Goddamn that girl. I put my neck on the line to do a nice thing and she reacts by shoving me into the wall and cursing at me to leave her alone? I mean fuck. I get that I've been a dick, but I was trying to make things right—at the sake of my best friend, for crying out loud. The chick has no fucking patience. So good riddance. No need for me to waste my time on her if she can't even appreciate what it costs.

I glare at my reflection in the mirror, eyeing the piercings in my lip and brow. They're both relatively new additions, little celebratory gifts I gave myself after surviving the summer on Nantucket with my mom and her squid of a fiancé, Bill. Per Carr, they need to be gone before classes start Monday, but I don't want to take them out. They feel like visual proof that I'm pissed off and not to be messed with.

I'm considering this, twisting the ring in my lip and so lost in thought that I don't hear the key in the lock. I just barely catch the door before it swings open in my face.

"Jesus, Somers, watch it," I snap as she pokes her head around the corner. Her face shifts immediately from chastised to annoyed.

"Jesus, Evans, maybe put a little space between your nose and the mirror next time," she snaps back. "What are you even doing?"

Just like that, I'm back in it with her. The flood of relief (she's bickering with me) rises with annoyance (she's always fucking bickering). I gesture to my reflection sarcastically. "I'm checking myself out, trying to see what you find so irresistible."

She snorts. "If by 'irresistible' you mean 'obnoxious-bordering-repulsive,' best of luck. Let me know if I can be of any assistance." She chucks her duffel onto her desk, ignoring my raised eyebrows.

I watch as she moves awkwardly around the room, pausing at her mattress. She starts to turn, and I direct my gaze back to the mirror, acting intensely focused on the piercing in my lower lip. I sink my top teeth around it, flicking at the metal with my tongue. There's a sharp intake of breath from behind me and my eyes shift to Logan's in the mirror. She looks guilty as hell.

"You like this, Somers?" I ask, repeating the action. She shivers but stands her ground, crossing her arms over her chest and straightening.

"The lip ring? I think it makes you look like a bull on its way to slaughter." She's trying for sarcasm, but it doesn't come out light, or even mean. Her voice is tight and a little too high.

"Hm," I consider. "I think you like it."

She doesn't respond but continues to watch me with her eyes narrowed. I take a gamble. "I think you're turned on by it."

She rolls her eyes, but it's forced. She's clearly spoken to Coleman; her demeanor is no longer livid with a side of murderous. If I was a betting man (I am), I'd guess that she is genuinely turned on right now. I wonder if this means I've redeemed myself for being an asshole.

I take two steps toward her. She moves back, her thighs hitting the desk behind her. "Admit it, Somers," I tease, closing the gap between us. There's nowhere for her to go, but she tilts her chin up in defiance, her gaze meeting mine straight on.

"Not until you apologize."

I want to laugh, but we're too close to each other; I can't make myself do anything but stare. Her scent is intoxicating, overwhelming, and her eyes are hard, but I can see the anguish swirling just below the surface. I watch her, using all my willpower not to reach a hand into her hair and draw her to me. I want this girl more than I've ever wanted anything, but I'm not in the habit of rushing.

I hold myself still, watching her watch me in the same needy way she did last night. Jesus. She's perfect.

"Ahem," she says finally. It comes out a breath and she's clearly annoyed at herself for that.

I don't want to bring up the expulsion thing, but at this point, I have to ask. "You talked to Coleman?"

She dips her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah."

When she doesn't look back up at me, I can't help myself; I bring a hand under her chin, lifting her face to mine. "And?"

"And I guess I owe you an apology, too," she mutters.

When her gaze lifts back to mine, a strange buzzing starts in my brain and my cock jerks to attention in my jeans. I drop my eyes to her mouth and run my tongue over the lip ring, watching her lips part as I do it, her breath coming a little faster.

I lift my gaze to hers, half-grinning. There's no way around it: Logan Somers wants me as badly as I want her. I lean down toward her lips, watching as her eyes flutter slowly closed.

"I have an idea," I whisper against her mouth.

"About what?" It comes out a sigh.

"About how we can apologize to each other."

It's the wrong thing to say. Somers emits a growl, her eyes flashing open. "You're playing me. Again." It's not a question, and that pisses me off.

"No, I'm not. Why do you think I convinced Carr to keep you here? You said yourself that it would be in my best interest to get you kicked out before classes even start."

She snorts, leaning away from me now. "I'm sure there's a punchline in here somewhere. I'm just not seeing it yet."

"That's the thing." I focus on her, making sure she can see the sincerity in my eyes. "There's not."

She growls again, pushing her hands against my chest and putting a few inches between us as she leans even further over the desk. "Well it doesn't matter either way. What was it you said last night?" She pauses, pretending to think, before dropping her voice into a venomous whisper. "Oh, right. I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole."

"Is that so?" Her anger has elicited mine now. I surprise her, moving quickly to slip one hand behind her back and lifting the other into the hair at the nape of her neck. We're suddenly close enough that I can hear the wild thrumming of her heart and I feel elated with it.

"Back off, Sam." It comes out weak.

"That doesn't sound like much fun at all." I dip my head toward Logan's, my lips parting slightly as I move toward her.

"What are you trying to prove?" she mutters.

I grin as my mouth moves toward her neck. I don't touch her—not yet—but I let the ring drift over her skin. She gasps as the cold metal touches her throat, emitting a surprised yelp of pleasure. I pull back, looking at her. Her eyes are pools of lust, and I know she sees the same in mine. I want her so much it should scare me. Maybe it does.

We're both tense and still, each watching the other for what comes next. When Somers doesn't move, I shift my grip on her back, my palm moving slightly lower, drawing her body toward mine. I'm going to kiss her when someone bangs on the door.

"Evans, let's go! I'm fucking starving!"

It's Jared goddamned Weaver, who turns the knob as he's shouting it. Somers and I leap away from each other, the evidence of the last few minutes all over our faces. I lift a hand to the back of my neck, scrubbing at it awkwardly. Somers won't look my way. She's flushed and wild-eyed, still pressed up against her desk.

Jared's eyes course over the room before a sly smile begins on his face. "Damn. You really don't waste any time," he says, directing it at Somers.

I shove a hand into my hair, slamming a hat over it. "You trying to eat, or what?" I ask, ignoring the insinuation. Yesterday, I would have said something shittier, encouraged Weaver. I hope she sees that I'm trying to start fresh with her—just as much as I hope Weaver doesn't.