Rather than watching Parrish however, he seems to be watching me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost say that he looks … sorry? Like his friend’s behavior isn’t exactly his favorite thing in the world.
A small shiver traces over my skin, one that I ignore in favor of holding my ground against his bestie. This stupid, piggish, annoying sloth prince! I want to kick him in the nuts, but if I get expelled from this fancy school for violence, Tess will probably hire a private tutor and I’ll be trapped in the ice cavern for the next two years.
“Your erectile dysfunction is nothing to be ashamed of. A lot of guys have issues getting hard—even ones diagnosed with micropenises.” I stroke Parrish’s arm and lean my head against his shoulder. He immediately stiffens up, but I don’t think either of us misses how good that feels. He’s warm, and his body is lean and hard, and holy crap, he smells amazing. Also, pretty sure he neither has issues getting hard nor has been diagnosed with a micropenis (which is a real medical condition that I probably shouldn’t be using to tease him with).
The thing is, when Parrish comes at me, I forget to control my emotions. Something about him just triggers me into doing and saying things that I wouldn’t normally do or say.
“Honestly, Parrish,” Lumen begins with a sigh, tossing her curled honey hair over one shoulder. “I’m over you. We might be dating the same girl, but even her wishes aren’t enough to get me into your bed.” She flashes him a sharp smile and then lifts a brow in my direction where I’m still cuddled up to my stepbrother like he’s actually anything other than a thorn in my side.
“Shall we?” she asks, but Parrish isn’t done. He very carefully withdraws his arm from mine, and though I’m loathe to admit it: I miss the contact. This asshole! What the hell has he done to me, other than scramble my brains around in my skull until it seems impossible to think clearly when he’s around?
“I’m sorry, Dakota,” Parrish says, shaking his head and then running his fingers through his hair like he’s actually in some sort of emotional distress. “But I don’t think I can do this anymore. It’s not that I have trouble getting it up: it’s just that I have trouble getting it up around you.” He stares down at me with those pretty gold-flecked eyes of his, and that ember in my belly heats up, burns, incinerates. I’m going to kill him. Really and truly. No hyperbole necessary. “It’s over.”
He turns away from me and stalks down the hallway, taking his cluster of friends with him. That is, all of them except for Chasm. He has his arms crossed over his chest, but his face, that’s impossible to read.
“Told you making out with me at the party would’ve been a better idea.” He stands up from the locker and gives me this voracious little smile that makes the girls—and a few gay boys—titter and giggle. Gross. I glare at him.
“Trying to shame me in front of the whole school? How cute. Why don’t you put a leash on your bestie instead of letting it be the other way around?”
Chasm frowns hard, and I can feel it: a shift in energy.
Crap.
I’ve done it again, said something that I almost immediately regret. For the most part, my beef is with Parrish, not Chasm.
“And here I was thinking that I’d offer to tutor you, Little Sister. Guess you can figure that one out on your own.” He turns and heads down the hall after Parrish as I bite my lip. Shit. Tutor me? How does he even know I need to be tutored? Then I remember that Parrish and Chasm are rude assholes who go through my stuff whenever my back is turned. On Wednesday, I looked up from making a sandwich to see the two of them casually thumbing through my academy-issued iPad.
Pricks.
“Too bad,” Lumen says, casting a glance in Chasm’s direction. “Kwang-seon is on his way to being valedictorian.” She pauses for a moment, tapping at her glossy lower lip with a single finger. “Or at least salutatorian, if I have my way about it.”
Turning to look at her, I cock a brow and try to figure out which part of that statement is most interesting: that Chasm is one of the top students at Whitehall … or that Lumen just referred to him as … what was it? It almost sounded like it started with a ‘G’ and a ‘K’ at the same time.
“His name is Kwang-seon?” I ask, blinking a few times in surprise. Lumen gives me what amounts to a sultry smile before lifting a perfect brow in my direction.
“Apparently when they first met, Parrish was missing a tooth and all he could say was ‘chasm’. It just sort of stuck. Cute, right? Also, his dad hates the nickname, and he hates his dad, so …” Lumen takes my arm the way she’s been doing virtually every morning this week and leads me down the hall toward my first class. Without her help, I’d likely still be getting lost on the way there. “Guess it’s just you and me now?” She gives me a smile that I’m not entirely sure how to interpret, and then leans over and presses a floral-scented kiss to my cheek. “Don’t worry. He can’t sink you if you’re attached to me.”
