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“I want to talk to you. Can I come in?”
“Suit yourself.”
Stepping into his room was like entering the dragon’s lair, and now that she was in it, Arien was unsure how to approach him. Gingerly, she sat down on the edge of the bed. He didn’t move. His gaze remaining on the ceiling, Kellan wouldn’t even look at her.
“I…um, reacted badly, but in my defense I was so not prepared to hear that. I mean, c’mon, put yourself in my shoes. Still, I was wrong. For calling y’all crazy.” Maybe you are though, a little bit. Arien went to touch his cheek, but before she could, he grabbed her wrist. “I’m trying to say I’m sorry, Kellan.”
He put her hand down on the mattress. “Okay, you said it.”
“Yeah.” She got up, and halfway across the room, turned back around. “And just for the record, you’re an asshole. I know where the fuck a steak comes from. Doesn’t mean I can’t feel bad for the cow, though.”
She didn’t make it to the door.
Kellan was behind her in a flash. His arm a vise around her middle, he held her against him. “I’m an asshole?”
“Yup.” Her fingers gripped the unmovable limb. “That’s what I said.”
With the smooth skin of his hard chest pressed into her back, that pull she felt in her belly whenever they touched returned. Arien struggled, not to get away, but to feel more of him. And fuck all if he didn’t know it.
“Go on.” His head dipped to her ear. “I like it.”
“Asshole.”
“I am.”
Pulling on her hair, Kellan bared her neck, lips skating over the sensitive skin. His strong grip loosening, he slid a hand beneath her T-shirt. Fingertips trailing across her stomach, her pulse skittered. Arien felt his dick, hard beneath his sweats, press into her.
She whimpered.
He groaned.
His breath fanned her face, and just when she thought he might kiss her, Kellan pushed her away instead. “Get to bed.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Go on.”
Arien went, but paused at his doorway. “You really are an asshole, you know that?”
“Yeah.”
She didn’t look back.
“I know.”
Built in the 1800s as a bunkhouse for the ranch hands, Brookside School was a three-story wooden structure, just a short walk from the shops on Main Street. Picturesque and updated, while retaining its original charm, it overlooked the trout-filled stream that trickled down the mountain and through the valley.
From preschool through high school, three hundred students were enrolled here. The primary grades, along with a kitchen and dining hall, were located on the first floor, the middle grades on the second, and high school on the third. Matthew sure hadn’t exaggerated. The curriculum, individualized and avant-garde, was not only top-notch, it was engaging, and except for the less-than-welcoming reception from some of her classmates, Arien liked it here.
Not that she took it personally. After all, she wasn’t just the new kid, she was an outsider.
Emily and Billy introduced her to Shiloh Lewis and her boyfriend, Griffin Archer. Both of them seniors, with the date of their wedding approaching, it was all they ever talked about. How about a graduation party? Something. Anyone? ANYONE? Sheesh. Still, they were nice to her, and she was happy to be included in their little friend group, even as the unattached fifth wheel.
On their way to the first-floor dining hall for lunch, Grams poked her head out her classroom door, waving Arien over. “I wanted to check on you. Everything going okay, honey?”
“Yeah.” She kissed her cheek. “Not too bad for my first week.”
“And at home?”
