Page 32 of Vicious Little Snakes
“Is this the new boy’s uniform? A T-shirt, blazer with a hint of a tie… Let me guess it’s called Peter Pan.”
Liam licks his lips, not even acknowledging what I’ve said.
“You look good, Caroline. Wanna find a dark hallway?”
God, he’s such an ass.
I cross my arms, trying not to do what I want to do—bite because it’s what he’s baiting me to do. But when his eyes reach mine again, I say precisely what I’m thinking.
“Why can’t you forgive me? You let everything else go with everyone else. Why do I have different rules? And stop looking at me like that.”
I all but stomp my goddamn foot. Thank God I don’t, or I’d have to immediately transfer, but he’s making me crazy and fucking petulant. The muscles in his jaw ripple as he looks sideways down the hall. He’s squinting his eyes as if he can’t stand to look at me, and all my anger instantly sours, turning into fear.
“Because you don’t mean what they mean to me.”
There’s a funny thing that happens when people hear mean things—even when they’re facts. After a while, you learn how to take a hit. I know he doesn’t feel the same way about me as I do him, but it still stings to hear it from his lips. Lucky for me, I trained with the best, so no tears will be shed, my throat won’t get tight, and I won’t crumble.
Liam Brooks will never know how that felt like a knife in my goddamn heart.
I huff a laugh, covertly running my finger over the scar on my hand. “Bad guy isn’t a good look on you, Liam. Leave it to the professionals. Can we please stop this charade?”
Liam leans down toward my face, wiping a hand over his mouth and pinching his bottom lip between his fingers before releasing it, “Who told you I was a good guy?”
I glare into his cold eyes, unwilling to be intimidated, even though I trust what he’s saying is true. Because I’ve seen this Liam before.
He’s not the angel his precious Donovan thinks he is. Liam is more than anyone ever gives him credit for—good and bad.
“You’ve been living in my good graces, Caroline. Basking in my undeserved charm. But after all your shit, those perks just don’t exist for you anymore. Can you really blame me? You’ve given me plenty of reasons over the years.”
I frown as he steps in closer, hating hearing my thoughts spill from his lips. But no matter what he just said, my body begins to betray me. My eyes land on the area right below his throat, where his collarbone is, where it’s kind of indented. It’s so smooth and male and in my face.
“Should I list them, Caroline?”
Nope. I know them by memory.
His finger traces under the lapel of my school blazer, flipping it up.
“Stop it, Liam.”
“Maybe I should start with the end of our sophomore year?”
My eyes lock to his, and the bastard grins. I know why I feel guilty for that moment—but I’ll never apologize for it. And he has zero reasons to make it one of my sins, especially seeing as he can’t throw any fucking stones.
I fix my collar and push his face back with my finger against his forehead.
“Funny how our memories are always different. I seem to remember you saying you ‘dodged a bullet,’ or maybe I imagined that conversation.”
Liam turns away, holding back his words. Chicken.
He starts off in the direction he’s looking, but I reach out, nabbing the back of his blazer. He freezes, exhaling harshly before interlocking his fingers behind his neck.
I hold him in place, my lips pressed, not knowing what I’m going to say. He stares at the ground for what feels like forever, and I swear I can’t let him go, but I also can’t admit what’s on the tip of my tongue.
I want to plead,“Forgive me. I’m sorry. I’m scared if I lose you that I’ll never get even a glimpse of me anymore. You’re the only one that makes it all make sense. You’re the boy I love, and I’m desperate for you to look at me like you did before I ruined you.”
But I don’t. Instead, I whisper, “Forgive me or forget me.”
He lifts his tortured gaze to me from over his shoulder. “Are those my only options?”
