Page 13 of Cruel Devil
Got it. What’s your number?
We exchange phone numbers and I discreetly enter his into my phone, praying this isn’t a mistake when the teacher draws everyone’s attention.
"That'll be all for today. Finish your reading for the week and do not forget about Friday's exam. This will count for twenty percent of your grade, so it would behoove you not to slack off. It will be difficult to catch up should you fail and there will not be retakes so don’t think emailing me you’re sick the night before will buy you any extra time to study. It won’t.”
A collective groan rolls through the class as everyone shuffles to their feet. "So," Deacon rubs the back of his neck. "What class do you have next?"
"Health," I tell him as we both walk out the door. His hand brushes against mine and I instinctively bring it to my chest. He doesn’t notice my reaction.
"Cool. I’ll walk with you. I'm going the same way."
"Sure." I mean, it is a free country. I can’t very well tell him, no.
We spend the next ten minutes talking about nothing and everything, and my initial apprehension begins to wane. Deacon is … charismatic. He's animated when he talks, using his hands, and his face is so expressive. He’s one hundred percent as arrogant as I initially pegged him to be but, I don’t know, he’s not an asshole about it, despite what happened in the hallway, and he doesn’t grab me again.
I find myself laughing more than I'm used to after meeting someone new. There's just something about talking to him that is, I don't know, easy. He reminds me a lot of Emilio in that way.
I discover Deacon is in fact on the football team. No surprise there. He’s second string seeing as he’s an incoming freshman, and he’s a QB so he’s gunning for Dominique’s spot.
He’s confident and definitely a little cocky that he’ll get it by the end of the year, but I know that won’t happen. Not before Dominique graduates at least, so Deacon will have to wait until his junior year to start.
A part of me wonders if the two of them are friends, or friendly at least, since Dominique would be the one responsible for working with him. None of the guys are particularly social unless they have to be, Dominique less so than even Roman, and that’s saying something.
In high school, the guys actively avoided everyone not in their close-knit circle, including their fellow teammates, and were called Devils for a reason that had nothing to do with the school mascot and everything to do with the hell they rained down on anyone dumb enough to bother them.
I can’t imagine things are any different here. It’s unlikely Dominique would bother getting to know a second-string player off the field, but during training and practices, he might be less of an asshole. Maybe. Okay, probably not, but a part of me is tempted to ask Deacon how well he knows Dominique. I try not to dwell on why I want to know that, though.
We reach the school's athletic center and I turn to wave goodbye.
"See you around, Deacon," I tell him, but before I can move for the doors, he clasps my hand with his and tugs just enough to stop me.
“Okay, can you not do that?” I ask.
He drops my hand immediately, lifting his own in a show of surrender. “My bad. I just …” He adopts a sheepish expression. “I wanted you to know, I’m glad we ran into each other today. Literally and figuratively.” He drops his hands and a slow smile spreads across his face.”You’re not like other girls, Kasey. It’s refreshing.”
Oh.
“Thanks. I, uh, I’m glad we ran into each other too.”
“Yeah?” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah. You’re not that bad, but don’t let it go to your head. I've only agreed to coffee," I remind him, and the next thing I know, he closes the distance between us, reclaiming my hand anyway as he brings it to his mouth, gently pressing his lips to my knuckles.
His eyes flick up, holding my gaze, and a small smile plays on his lips before he straightens and takes a step back. “See you around,friend.”
“Yep.” I turn and make a beeline for the doors, not sure what to think of that, when for the second time today I crash into another warm body, this time hard enough that I stumble back a few steps and fall flat on my butt.
“Seriously!”
A warm chuckle has me looking up to find Dominique’s amused stare locked on me. Not who I wanted to run into right now.
Chapter Six
“Where’s the fire?” he asks, peering down at me like the brooding asshole I know him to be.
I open my mouth to snap at him for being a jerk and letting me fall, because I know he did it on purpose. Dominique’s reflexes are lightning fast, so there is zero doubt in my mind he could have prevented my fall if he’d wanted to. But before I snap at him, his gaze shifts past me to the doors, a frown marring his face and a flash of anger ignites in his eyes.
I turn, but no one is there. I wonder if he saw me talking to Deacon. If he did, does he care? Probably not. But then why would he be angry?
