Page 82 of Blocked Score

A territorial feeling that I’ve never felt before curls up my spine. My eyelids become narrow slices as I look at her, and suddenly it feels like my nails have sharpened into claws.

I march up to Lane and immediately wrap my arm around his waist, pulling myself close to his hard, solid mass. I flutter my eyelashes and look up at him.

“Hey, baby,” I say, with all the sugary-sweetness I can muster.

He looks down at me, and his eyes soften.

I beam a prim and tight smile at the girl in front of us. “Who’s your friend?”

“Amelia,” she answers. “Lane and Ihung outa lot last semester.” Her smile is barbed, masking a competitiveness that says she thinks she can attract Lane’s attention even when I’m by his side.

I choose the nuclear option to quickly dispel that idea from her pretty little head.

“Scarlett,” I introduce myself. “Lane’s girlfriend.”

I feel Lane’s muscles ripple under his shirt in reaction.

We haven’t put a title to what exactly we are in these last couple weeks, since we learned the truth about what happened in Chicago at the pool.

But we’re all over each other every day. We sleep in each other’s beds, he buys me random gifts, he pulls me into kisses when we’re in the kitchen together, we text all day long.

I look up at Lane again, and the big smile that spreads across his mouth and the happy sparkle dancing in his eyes make it immediately clear we’re on the same page.

“Girlfriend?” Amelia repeats, the wind out of her sails.

I plant my hand possessively on Lane’s chest. “Think we should head back to our place, babe? I’m getting tired.”

Amelia’s eyebrows elevator up her forehead, her lids blinking energetically as her gaze bounces between us. “You two live together?”

I tilt my head, tugging my forced smile higher. “That’s right.”

“Wow,” her expression drops. “I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone.”

“I am,” Lane replies, his deep voice firm and unambiguous.

“Oh. Well, that’s nice,” Amelia answers, a little flustered. “It was nice meeting you, Scarlett. See you guys.”

Even as she walks away, possessiveness like I’ve never felt before thrums through me. Seeing another girl coming onto Lane awakened something inside me that I didn’t know existed. It has my blood pumping hotter and thicker, setting off a desire to stake my claim to him with more than just words.

Lane turns to face me, shaping my hips with his palms over my dress. “Jealous, much?”

I tilt a shoulder. “Maybe I am.”

His eyes darken. “I like it.”

I toy with the buttons running down the front of his shirt, imagining popping them open one by one. “Is that so?”

A pleased sound pulls from deep in his throat, and I feel it between my thighs.

“I was serious about wanting to head back home.”

The side of Lane’s plush mouth curves sinfully. “Because you’re tired?”

“No.”

As soon as the door is closed behind us back at our place, I don’t even waste any time walking upstairs to one of our rooms. I plant my hands on the hard planes of Lane’s chest, push his back against the front door, and sink to my knees.

“Fuck,” he groans as I undo his belt. “I like your jealous side.”

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