Yeah, I kind of did say that.

Daemon’s eyes flashed. “Anyway, back to the whole you-wanting-me part.”

I shook my head, dumbfounded.

“You do want me.”

Taking a deep breath, I struggled with my temper…and my amusement. “You are way too confident.”

“I’m confident enough to wager a bet.”

“You can’t be serious.”

He grinned. “I bet that by New Year’s Day, you will have admitted that you’re madly, deeply, and irrevocably—”

“Wow. Want to throw another adverb out there?” My cheeks were burning.

“How about irresistibly?”

I rolled my eyes and muttered, “I’m surprised you know what an adverb is.”

“Stop distracting me, Kitten. Back to my bet—by New Year’s Day, you’ll have admitted that you’re madly, deeply, irrevocably, and irresistibly in love with me.”

Stunned, I choked on my laugh.

“And you dream about me.” He released my arm and folded his across his chest, cocking an eyebrow. “I bet you’ll admit that. Probably even show me your notebook with my name circled in hearts—”

“Oh, for the love of God…”

Daemon winked. “It’s on.”

Spinning around, I grabbed my backpack and hurried through the stacks, leaving Daemon in the cubicle before I did something insane. Like throw common sense aside and run back to tackle him, pretending that everything he’d done and said all those months ago hadn’t left a raw mark on my heart. Because I’d be pretending, right?

I didn’t slow until I was standing in front of my locker on the other side of the school. I reached inside my backpack and pulled out my binder full of art crap. What a hell of a day back. I’d dazed out in half of my classes, made out with Daemon, and blew up another computer. Seriously. I should’ve stayed home.

I reached for the handle on my locker. Before my fingers could touch it, the locker swung open. Gasping, I jumped back, and my art binder fell to the floor.

Oh my God, what just happened?

It couldn’t be… My heart rate went into cardiac arrest territory.

Daemon? He could manipulate objects. Opening a locker door with his mind would be a piece of cake for him, considering he could uproot trees. I looked around the thinning crowds, but I already knew he wasn’t there. I hadn’t felt him through our creepy alien bond. I backed away from the locker.

“Whoa, watch where you’re going,” a teasing voice intruded.

Sucking in a sharp gasp, I whipped around. Simon Cutters stood behind me, clenching a ragged backpack in his meaty fist.

“Sorry,” I croaked, glancing back at the locker. Had he seen that happen? I knelt to pick up my artwork, but he beat me to it. Epic awkwardness ensued as we tried to pick up the papers without touching each other.

Simon handed me a stack of craptastic drawings of flowers. I had no artistic talent. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” I stood, shoving my binder into the locker, ready to flee.

“Wait a sec.” He grabbed my arm. “I wanted to talk to you.”

My eyes dropped to his hand. He had five seconds before my pointy-toed shoe ended up between his legs.

He seemed to sense this, because he dropped his hand and flushed. “I just want to apologize for everything that happened homecoming night. I was drunk and I…I do stupid things when I’m drunk.”

I glared at him. “Then maybe you should stop drinking.”

“Yeah, maybe I should.” He ran his hand over his closely cropped hair. Light reflected off the blue and gold watch around his thick wrist. Something was engraved on the band, but I couldn’t make it out. “Anyway, I just didn’t—”

“Yo, Simon, what are you doing?” Billy Crump, a beady-eyed football player who only seemed to notice my boobs when he looked in my direction, sidled up next to Simon. He was closely followed by a rabid pack of teammates. Billy grinned as his gaze zeroed in on me. “Hey…what do we have here?”

Simon opened his mouth, but one of the guys beat him to it. “Let me guess. She’s trying to get on your jock again?”

Several guys chuckled and elbowed one another.

I blinked at Simon. “Excuse me?”

The tips of Simon’s cheeks turned ruddy as Billy lurched forward, dropping his arm over my shoulder. The scent of his cologne nearly knocked me out. “Look, babe, Simon ain’t interested in you.”

One of the guys laughed. “Like my mama always said, why buy the cow when the milk’s for free?”

A slow rush of fury inched through my veins. What the hell was Simon telling these douchebags? I shrugged out from underneath Billy’s arm. “This milk isn’t for free and wasn’t even for sale.”

“That’s not what we hear.” Billy fist-pumped a red-faced Simon. “Isn’t that right, Cutters?”

All of Simon’s friends’ eyes were on him. He choked out a laugh and stepped back, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Yeah, man, but not interested in a second glass. I was trying to tell her that, but she wouldn’t listen.”

My mouth dropped. “You lying son of a—”

“What’s going on down there?” Coach Vincent called from the end of the hallway. “Shouldn’t you boys be in class by now?”

Laughing, the guys broke apart and headed down the hall. One of them spun around, motioning a “call me” hand signal while another made a rather obscene gesture with his mouth and hand.




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