"I think you should stop being so mean to me, Zahed."
"Why would I ever do that?"
Aryan grins, a bright, wicked thing.
"Because I kiss you like this."
•
Mira Zahed and Aryan Shankar are at war.
When her best friend and his cousin decide to fall in...
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♥ ♥ ♥
I'M GOING TO KILL HERRERA.
I'm going to beat his ass into next fucking week.
I'm going to run him over with Charlie's Porsche.
I'm going to slam his head into a locker.
He smirks across at me from the doorway as if he knows the exact level of violence I have reserved for him within my head. Mira, on the other hand, is properly mortified. I don't blame her.
My hands fall limp from where they'd bunched up in the thin fabric of her dress and she doesn't meet my eyes, tumbling off me. Her skin is as hot as mine as she pulls away and I literally have to grit my teeth to resist the urge to pull her back. I tilt my head back, head knocking against the cold steel behind me but I don't give a fuck, scowling up at the ceiling as my clenched fists drop to my lap.
I'm going to knock Herrera's jaw clean off.
I'm going to wipe that stupid ass smirk off his face.
I'm going to buy him a bloody fucking Tesla myself and then I'm going to run him over with it.
I look back down but Mira still doesn't look at me as she finds her feet, knees unsteady, fingers tugging wildly at the hem of her dress. Her lips are pouted, bruised red with a kiss, or like nine kisses, grey eyes dark like smoke, her skin is flushed a pretty shade of pink. She looks properly ruined. A small surge of satisfaction unwinds in my chest. I did that.
Her eyes flicker to me briefly yet her stare burns like a lance against my skin. I wonder what I look like to her. I wonder if she's thinking the same thing as she looks at me. I did that. Hair wild, skin hot, pants tugged down low over my hips, hands in my lap because I'm fucking aching and she fucking knows it. She did that. She did that. She fucking did that.
Fucking hell.
Mira looks away first. I pull in the breath I'd been holding under that gaze of hers that whipped like a hurricane's wrath.
She whips her eyes over to Raf and her mortification wears off. Eyes flashing, I think she wants to kill him just as badly as I do.
He meets her stare, dark gaze glittering mischievously. "Sorry to interrupt, says Raf, not sorry at all.
Zahed all but growls at him, "Get the fuck out."
Raf does no such thing. His eyes waltz between us before settling on me. I glare. I'm going to kill you. He smirks, looking at me like Christmas came early. That'd be one thing.
