Page 14 of Ghosted

“It’s what they call me.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

I tilt my head. “You always this difficult?”

“Usually worse.”

Fuck.

There it is again.

That almost-smile.

I want to see it properly. Want to know what she looks like when she stops holding everything back.

The thought comes too easily.

“Jagger Cutter.”

Her gaze flicks to mine.

For one second, something in her shifts.

Recognition, maybe.

Cutter isn’t exactly quiet around campus. Johnny makes sure of that. He collects attention like other people collect apologies. I prefer staying out of the polished parts of university life, but a last name like ours travels whether you drag it or not.

She doesn’t say Cutter, though.

Doesn’t even ask.

She just says, “Jagger.”

Hearing my name in her mouth is a problem.

A big fucking problem.

Because I like it.

The kind of like that feels less like pleasure and more like a warning. Something low in me tightens, possessive, stupid and fucking immediate.

I look away first because if I don’t, I’m going to say something I shouldn’t.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

She lifts the camera slightly. “Working on a project.”

“Illegal fighting your usual subject?”

“People are my subject.”

“People?”

“The parts they don’t want anyone to notice.”

I go still.

She says it casually, like she didn’t just press her thumb against a bruise.