Page 77 of Secret Obsession
I ignore it.
The amount of people who want to get all up in my business sometimes verges on uncomfortable. When I’m alone, I pretend I can’t hear them. It’s rare that anyone forces their attention on me—like jumping in front of me or whatever. Only desperate girls try it, and while they’re harder to merely brush off, they’re also easier to trick.
Hey, baby, I’d love to chat—but I’m late to meet my brother.
Oh, Knox? *bats eyelashes like a fucking fan* Good luck in the game next…
Total bullshit, most of the time.
I grab two breakfast sandwiches, two coffees, and add in a protein bar on top of my pile. I pay and settle at a table to wait, slowly eating one of the sandwiches. I open my phone and scroll through it.
“Hey.” Greyson slides into the seat across from me.
I set my phone down. “What’s up?”
He drops Willow’s phone on the table between us. “Figured you might want that.”
I smile. “Yeah. I’ve never met a girl who gives less of a shit about her phone.”
Greyson glares at something over my shoulder. “Is there a reason you’ve got a group of angry football assholes staring at you?”
I crane around.
Sure enough, Ronan Pierce—the prick who was giving Willow drinks the other night—is glowering at me. He has a matching black eye, and already I can imagine the rumors that’ll start up. Who will connect Willow between us?
A lot of people, knowing this fucking school. Thethreeof us with bruises? Suspicious.
I sigh. “May as well face this head-on.”
Greyson shakes his head, but he follows me across the room to the football table. There are four of them, and they all look like they want to hit me.
They should just get in line.
“Pierce,” I greet him. I keep my voice even.
“Whiteshaw,” he replies. His eyes are full of anger.
I mean, Ididsucker punch him in front of his own apartment. I’d be pissed, too.
“Willow’s my girlfriend,” I inform him. “So back the fuck off.”
Pierce sneers. “Yeah? Does she know that?”
“Oh, fuck you,” Greyson mutters.
“He’s funny,” I comment to my friend. “So fucking funny with that black eye. Do you want to know what he looked like rightafterI punched him in the face?”
“I’d love to,” Greyson deadpans.
So I do what I definitely shouldn’t.
I wind up and punch that fucker in the face.Again.
Really. He should expect this by now. But instead, the force knocks him off his chair and to the floor. He jumps to his feet and dives at me, and I relish the bite of his knuckles against my jaw. He tackles me with the force of a linebacker. I hit the floor hard, the wind knocked from my lungs.
I manage to block his punch to my face, but I get another to my ribs. He’s on top of me and raining down hits, and the pain wakes me the fuck up. With a roar, I throw him off me and into the table next to us. He crashes into it, tipping it over.
A quick glance in Greyson’s direction shows that he’s somehow keeping the rest of Pierce’s friends away from our fight.
