Izzy

Zane is looking downright incredible this morning.

I want to hate myself for thinking it, and I probably should, but I can't ignore it when someone is attractive. I can't disregard that snapback he's wearing backward today. I can't turn away from those gray sweatpants clinging to just the right places. He knows exactly what he's doing, and when he approaches me by my locker after lunch, he's got a cocky grin on his face.

"Hey, sexy," he drawls, dragging his eyes up my body. "Should I be expecting you to come over after school?"

God, I shouldn't. I really shouldn't. Not after Mason and I's text conversation this past weekend. But Mason clarified that he won't give me what I'm looking for until I choose him and him only. It's a fair enough request, but It's one I know I'm not capable of yet. Not when I've been eyeing Zane's dick in these sweatpants all morning.

Zane tugs me against his chest and rakes his hand up underneath my skirt, right in front of everyone to see. He doesn't care who's watching as he squeezes gently and scrapes his teeth against my earlobe.

"I'll see if I can make it," I tease.

"Good." He pulls out his phone when it rings, clicking ignore before he shoves it back into his pocket. "I haven't seen you much." It's not an accusation, but it's a question. One I'm not sure how to answer.

"I've been studying a lot," I admit, which isn't a lie. The results of our History tests will be released to us tomorrow, and I'm scared shitless.

He arches a brow. "Right. All that studying you do with Mason."

"You have a problem with him?"

He shrugs. "Trust me, I'm not threatened at all, I just—" His phone rings again, but he presses ignore for the second time. "I just haven't seen you as much, and I have needs, Izzy."

I bite back a laugh. I'm not sure why I thought Zane might be catching feelings or even jealous. Our relationship has never been like that. But his saying that makes me feel sleazy, like I'm just an object for him to use and discard.

Isn't that what you are, though?

Zane's brown eyes narrow like he's trying to decipher my thoughts. "Look, all I'm saying is that we had a deal, right? We can't fuck anyone else because we're fucking each other, but when you stop giving it up, then—"

His phone rings again, and I want to ask who the fuck needs to get in touch with him so badly until I hear Everett say from behind us, "I would get that if I were you." His tone is icy, calculated, a death sentence. He must have overheard the last thing Zane said.

Zane twists his head to eye Everett, but he has to glance up at him. My brother hit a growth spurt before the start of freshman year, and the basketball coach has been begging him to join the varsity team, but he refuses. Everett may not be built, but the coldness in his stare is enough for most grown men to run for the hills.

"Yeah," Zane agrees and answers his phone before my brother can knock his teeth out, disappearing down another hallway.

"Why the fuck are you putting up with that?" Everett asks. "He's a fucking tool."

I shrug and gather my textbooks for my next class, but when I turn back to face my brother, I spot Mason at his locker down the hall, talking to a girl I've never seen before.

The punch to my gut was a sensation I wasn't expecting. I've seen Zane speak to and kiss many females, but I've never felt the need to rip their fucking throats out. It's the same sensation I got when that girl approached Mason at the first party I took him to—when she dared to run her fingers through his hair.

This isn't the same girl, but she's pretty all the same. Red curly hair, bright green eyes, and freckles splattered across her nose and cheeks. She's laughing at something he's saying, throwing her head back in obvious flirtation. I'm clutching my textbooks so damn tight I'm surprised I haven't punctured a hole through them.

Everett glances over his shoulder at what I'm looking at and rolls his eyes. "You're clearly into him, Izzy, and he's into you. What's the holdup?"

I laugh, but my eyes remain on the girl laughing at Mason's corny jokes. The jokes that only I'm supposed to laugh at. "It's none of your business, Everett."

"It doesn't make sense," he adds. "Mason seems really into you, and he treats you nice. Plus, he doesn't treat me like I don't exist. He speaks to me when I'm around you. If I had to choose—"

"But you don't," I tell him. "You don't get to choose who I'm with. Maybe you should stop focusing on my love life and focus a little on getting over your best friend's girlfriend."

"Shut up," he snarls, moving closer to me. "I may be your younger brother, but I'm not going to let guys like Zane speak to you like that, and neither should you. You're worth more than that. Dad treated you like nothing but a princess, so why should you accept anything less?"

I blink a few times, letting his words register. It's been years since he's spoken highly of our father, from how much resentment he keeps inside. I know he's right, and it only makes me more upset. It makes me upset that he likes Mason because it's another factor to consider. If Mason and I genuinely start to date, my siblings will become attached to him, and with Everett's relationship with our father so strained already, I don't want him to get hurt again if things between Mason and me don't work out.

"All I'm saying is you might want to figure it out soon," Everett says. He rests his shoulder against the locker beside mine. "Mom made me Facetime with Dad the other night, and he thought he hung up, but he didn't. He was talking to his other football buddies about possibly retiring. I don't even think Mom knows about it yet, but he will be home if he does. All the time."

Fuck.

It's not that I don't want my dad to retire because I do. I really do. But if he's always home, all my nights of sneaking out, running off to see Zane... They're done for. I can kiss my chance of freedom goodbye.

"I'm telling you to go with Mason not only because you're blind to your feelings but also because Dad won't let Zane within two feet of the house after he takes one look at those tattoos of his."

My eyes narrow when the girl puts her hand on Mason's shoulder. The blood beneath my skin is thrumming with jealousy. I hate that I'm jealous, but I am. My head is pounding when Mason gives her an innocent smile. That cute, nerdy smile tells me he has no idea this girl is flirting with him. He's so damn naive.

I shove from my locker and tell Everett, "I'll think about it. Right now, I have to handle something."

I hear him chuckling behind me as I reel in every ounce of jealousy and stroll over to the two of them like I don't have a care in the world. I won't let Mason have the satisfaction of knowing he's made me jealous. Not when he's dangling such a delicious bargain right under my nose. It would only give him leverage.

"Hi," I chirp, putting an extra bounce in my step. My hand goes to rest on Mason's arm and squeezes it. The girl beside him notices and shrinks back, but she still doesn't leave. "Want to walk to History together?"

Mason lifts his brows, and I know everything I tried to hide during the few steps over here is practically leaking out of me. He can smell my jealousy from a mile away. "Izzy, this is Cassie. She's a member of the debate team." He says it like it's supposed to reassure me, but the bitch is eyeing me down like a hawk, silently telling me to back off.

She has no idea who she's messing with.

I step closer to Mason and place my perfectly manicured hand on his chest. Then, I blink innocently up at him with a pleading stare, melting him into utter putty. In seconds, I feel his heart beating rapidly beneath my palm, his eyes scanning my lips. "You didn't answer my question," I whisper with a tiny, seductive smile.

Mason clears his throat and lets out a loud breath, the mint from the gum he's chewing practically making me moan. "Yeah, come on."

It's a dismissal for Cassie, who rolls her eyes and storms off down the hall, but I could give two fucks.

"Give me." Mason extends his hands out for my book, and the butterflies in my stomach dance like crazy as I pass them over for him to carry.

We continue down the hall in silence for a few minutes until he says, "Cassie is just a friend."

"To you," I mutter, "but you're blind if you can't tell she wants something more. It doesn't matter, though, anyway. We're not together. You don't owe me any explanation. You can talk to whoever you want."

He laughs. "Really? Is that why you looked like you wanted to kill her? I saw you staring at us at your locker, Izzy."

Fuck. How long was he there for? Did he see Zane and me? And why does it even matter that he saw us together? I don't owe him any explanations, but it feels like I do.

"What else did you see?" I dare ask.

He pauses by an alcove in the empty hall, backing me into it. He stares down at me with nothing but anger in his eyes, but I'm not frightened—not one bit. My thighs are clenched when he puts my books on the floor and raises his hands to rest on the arch above us, leaning close to my face.

"I saw enough," he says. "More than I wanted to. I have no reason to be mad at you, and I'm well aware of that, but if I don't have an answer from you soon about us..." I gulp loudly when he moves his lips to my ear, his hands resting on my hips. "Then I have no choice but to move on and find a girl like Cassie to put my hands on instead." He darts his tongue out to lick my ear, and my knees buckle. "To put my tongue on instead." His breath hitches when I forcefully put his hand up my skirt, not taking no for an option. He feels the wetness on my panties, and a sound on the borderline of a growl emits from his mouth.

The sound travels straight to my brain, storing itself in my memory forever.

For the first time, I feel his hard-on against my stomach, and...

Holy. Hell.

That can't be real. No way that size can be actual.

I saw it once before, but feeling it...

I'm in disbelief and need to ensure I'm not delusional. I need to ensure this isn't all just in my head, so I move my hand to grasp it, but Mason's fingers tighten around my wrist, making a tsk-tsk sound.

"It's not yours," he says with a wicked grin. "Yet."

I swear on everything I'm about to fuck all the consequences and just say to hell with it, but then we both hear the sound of approaching footsteps, and Mason whirls around to throw me in front of him, hiding his hard-on.

Mr. Jones, the school principal, stops in front of the alcove and furrows his eyebrows together. "Aren't you two supposed to be in class?"

Mason eagerly nods. "We're on our way to the library. We finished all our History assignments early, so our teacher told us we could work on our other subjects for the rest of class. We just stopped to get a drink of water." He thumbs to the fountain hidden in the nook with us.

The lie rolls easily off his tongue. But Mason and I are technically at the top of our class, and the principal knows that. We aren't troublemakers. We aren't supposed to be. There's no way he just caught the two most intelligent kids practically making out with each other while being late to class.

"Of course," the principal replies, giving us a smile before focusing on Mason. "Are you ready for the debate match on Friday?"

My blood is still thrumming beneath my skin. I'm so goddamn horny and can't do a thing about it. We were both about to say fuck it before the principal interrupted us, and the fucking size of Mason is... I need to know.

While Mason talks about the debate match coming up, I quickly brush my ass against his thick length, and it's an effort not to roll my eyes to the back of my head.

It's real.

More than fucking real.

I earn a pinch to my side as Mason shifts further away from me, and when the principal finally saunters off, my underwear is soaked, and my thoughts are entirely jumbled.

"I didn't realize we were late to class," Mason says, "but I suppose the empty hallway should have given that away. I didn't even hear the bell."

"Me either," I reply, my breathing still uneven.

"Just give me a second." He slumps against the tiled wall beside the alcove, glancing down at his hard-on that is so fucking huge it's impossible to look away from. He notices me staring at it and says, "Just say the word. It'll be all yours."

All mine.

"Or I'll make you cave before I have to decide." I rest against the wall beside him and smile devilishly. "I'll have you take me in this alcove before the end of the week."

He shakes his head. "Nah, you deserve better. Our first time won't be in this school. I can guarantee you that."

It was meant to be a joke, but his words still linger. They echo my brother's speech given to me only ten minutes ago, and it's not until now that I question whether they're both right.

Maybe I do deserve better.