Page 22 of Made for Cyn

Iris hasn’t joined us, and I look around when a low din rises in the cafeteria, surprised to find Cyn back at his table. A thrill rushes through me and I take him in greedily, confirming he’s as wildly beautiful as I remember until it falls flat when one of his groupies climbs into his lap, and they proceed to suck face.

Wow.

Rubbing my forehead, I ignore the ache in my chest. This is why I need to pull my head out of my ass. The jerk isn’t exactly pining for me, yet he’s been all I can think about since he kissed me so heatedly.

Whatever.

I turn back to my sandwich and take a bite, the turkey and bacon tasting like cardboard in my mouth.

“Hey,” Iris says, dropping into the seat beside me.

Thankfully, she studiously ignores Bastion. She’s been moping for days, and I was starting to get worried. Besides, he, too, is devouring some girl sitting beside him. What a bunch of whores.

Today, though, Iris is back to her usual vivacious self, and I can’t help but smile with relief.

“Hey.”

“We’re going to the arcade after school.”

“Oh, okay,” I mumble, peeking at Cyn.

He’s now in deep conversation with a guy I’ve never seen before, and his brows crease as he stares at him. The guy waves his hands in the air, his eyes wide before he leans away.

Cyn doesn’t move, but the guy must sense something because he bows his head. I glance between them until Cyn’s head pops up, and he meets my curious gaze, but I don’t think he sees me at first. Still, I suck in a shaky breath at the dangerous scowl on his face because with his brows over his eyes and his mouth a thin line, he looks positively murderous.

He blinks, the frown fading as he focuses on me and his mouth curls in a smirk, but I look away, my chest thumping uncomfortably. I don’t recognize this version of Cyn, and it makes me uneasy.

What do I really know, except that I’ve been warned away from him by multiple people? I need to keep my distance because from what I can now see for myself, he’s even more dangerous than I gave him credit for.

???

After lunch, I approach Jig in PE with a tired sigh. He greets me with his bright eyes and goofy grin, but his shoulders are tense, and he quickly moves away.

We’re subjected to another game of football, and he goes through the motions during the remainder of the period but his heart’s not in it this time. He passes the ball with a lot less verve and doesn’t bother to bark orders like before.

To my relief, I’m spared any further injury, and I’m heading back to the locker room to change when Jig calls my name.

Slowing, I wait as he approaches, his mouth turned down in a frown.

What now?

“Cyn wants to talk to you. Meet him by the bleachers after you’re done,” he says, nodding at the locker room.

“I have class—”

“Don’t worry about it.” He walks away before I can finish my protest, and I spend the next few minutes battling both anticipation and dread.

Is this about Iris? Or me?

Cyn is already waiting for me when I arrive, and with a pounding pulse, I stop below him on the steps and tilt my head to meet his stare.

His green eyes study me closely, and I wait for whatever he’s about to say with a steady gaze of my own, but my heart is pumping painfully in my chest.

He looks good, with his arms crossed over his pectorals, the muscles bulging gloriously. My fingers tingle to trace those muscles, and my mouth waters at the thought of kissing him there.

Unbidden, my cheeks heat at the thought, and he quirks a brow, his eyes dropping to my mouth.

“You got something to say, beauty?” He rumbles, and I shake my head mutely.

---