Complicit in His Chaos Book 1: Tempted by Keilan Shea

Author:Keilan Shea [Shea, Keilan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Hard-Earned Happily Ever Afters
Published: 2020-12-20T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

When I stumble out of the Infinity Fitness Center, the midday sun beats me with its dauntless heat. August is my least favorite month because of this. Usually SoCal treats my temperature sensitivity well, but no place is perfect. Maybe it feels worse right now because of PE—the class where I hardly moved. I hope tomorrow is more … normal.

I turn up the brightness on my phone and stare at a blank message box. I want to send Theo a text, but don’t know how to word it. I couldn’t bring myself to intercept him and invite myself along for lunch. Besides, lunch won’t leave much time for a book discussion. No, what we need is a book club. I’ll do my research to ensure it’s viable, then I’ll figure out how to propose that idea to him before lunch is over. Besides, it’ll keep me preoccupied while I eat alone.

I puff a labored breath and lament how spread out the buildings are. We’re given ten minutes between classes for a reason, but thank God I don’t have classes on opposite ends of the campus back-to-back. I’d have to take up jogging. It’s possible Coach Dahl will require that anyway after today.

Where is the cafeteria from here? I have no idea. I can’t see it with all the tall buildings obstructing the view. Until I’ve memorized my daily routine and route, consulting the campus map is necessary. I reluctantly summon my student account by tapping the academy’s app on my phone. I wouldn’t mind splitting my attention like this if I hadn’t barreled into Lucas yesterday.

And then it happens. Something, a metal pole or maybe the sharp corner of a short brick wall, jabs my rib cage. My teeth clench as I try to hold my throbbing chest and stretch out my hands at the same time. Nothing’s there when I double over, wheezing, glasses sliding down my nose, as my phone flies out of my hand. It cracks against the sun-warmed walkway, fissures painting a spiderweb-like pattern across the screen. I squeeze my eyes shut and cough as my hand rests gingerly on my abused ribs. Nothing soothes the throbbing. My eyes sting with unshed tears and I don’t know if I can hold them back.

“Watch where you’re going,” a boy warns. A boy. Is he what hit me? He must have hit me. Intentionally.

I shudder a breath. My tear-blurred eyes counteract the effects of my glasses as I right them. Those same tears leak over my lower eyelids and slide down my cheeks because the pain doesn’t stop and my phone has gone dark. It’s busted.

While scrambling to my feet, I snatch my phone and hastily wipe my eyes, meaning to dart past my antagonist without causing a bigger scene. But there are two more male students with him and they block me as he grabs my shoulder with punishing fingers. He must be the ringleader. “Where do you think you’re going? You didn’t apologize.”

“I-I’m sorry,” I choke out.

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