Page 207 of Swallow Your Sorries

“Why is stirring the pot a bad thing?”

He can’t be serious right now.

“Because I’ll look even stupider than I already do.”

“Being with me makes you look stupid?”

“Yes! Just being seen with you isembarrassing.”

The coldness that settles in his dark eyes makes me shiver. He stops advancing towards me, but I don’t think for one second that I can step away from him. My feet may be unable to move, but my lips are still fully activated.

“You embarrassed me, no, humiliated me in front of the entire school. That doesn’t change just because we’ve come to somewhat of an understanding.”

“You think that stuff I did before was embarrassing?”

For one second, I see the old Gant again.

I don’t respond.

“Just you wait.”

“Gant—”

One second I’m at eye level with his chest, the next I’m over his shoulder staring at the chequered floor, then the stone patio, then the cobblestones that lead to the dining hall.

“Put me down!”

I try to dig my knee into his gut, but I can’t. Not at the angle I’m at. I feel like a damn seesaw over his shoulder with my legs sticking out at an angle, as is my head, as I struggle to hold it up and away from his back, desperate to upright myself.

Balling my fist, I sock him,hard,and immediately regret it. Like jelly, I fall flaccidly against him in pain, my forehead smacking into the impossibly hard wall of muscle that’s his back as stars fly before my eyes.

“Fuck,I love the way you moan,” Gant comments, unperturbed as I try to steady my breathing as if I’m the one that got the wind knocked clear out of me.

But once the stars disappear and more feet drift by, panic settles in again.

“Gant!Seriously.Put me down.”

He ignores me, and the fluid in my ears sloshes as we whip around a curve.

Whispers, I can hear whispers and see double the amount of legs. They stop. They turn back to watch us. They follow us.

“Put me down, or I’ll throw myself,” I hiss. “You don’t want anyone to see your pretty pussy, do you?”

My threat falls on deaf ears because he merely smooths the hoodie over my ass, and squeezes my legs so tight that I can’t open them at all now.

More feet.

More voices.

You think that’s embarrassing? Just you wait.

What the fuck does he have in store for me now?

I can’t find out.

My last card…

“Please,” I whisper, trying a gentler approach. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

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