Elite by Rachel van Dyken

Author:Rachel van Dyken [Dyken, Rachel van]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, organized crime, Young Adult, mature young adult, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense, New adult, contemporary romance
Published: 2013-04-01T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

“You drool,” Nixon announced the minute I saw him for first period Monday morning. After everything that went down Friday night, I desperately needed some calm time. Monroe and I stayed in bed all day Saturday and watched movies.

She had family dinner Sunday, so I worked on what homework I did have, and then plunged into a vampire novel in order to lose the drama from my life.

It must have worked because like a total loser I fell asleep at seven at night and didn’t wake up until my alarm Monday morning.

Nixon hadn’t spoken to me since the night I fell asleep in his arms. I was beginning to think I was the one going crazy and nothing happened.

Tempted to flip him off. I merely mumbled thanks under my breath as I walked by his desk and sat down. One more week with him as our stand-in teacher, and then I would be home free!

“Movie day.” Nixon addressed the class, took roll, and then flipped off the lights as a documentary of early America began to play in black and white. Great.

“Hey,” he breathed in my ear.

“Crap!” My desk moved as I jumped away. I turned around and glared. “Are you trying to kill me?” I whispered.

Nixon smirked. “Not at all. Remember? I’m the one who keeps you safe. I’m the one that would die for you and all that? Why, want me to prove my loyalty?” His teasing smile made me want to smack him with my history book, or maybe my lit book. That one was heavier.

“I’m trying to watch the movie.” Oh gosh, nothing about that statement sounded remotely true. My voice even wavered into high-pitched liar pants territory.

“No, you’re not.” He sighed and leaned back. Every other kid was paying attention to the movie. Why was I the lucky one getting haunted by the gangster of Christmas present?

“Yes. I am.” Flipping my hair, I turned back around and focused on the movie about America. Ah Indians, focus on the Cherokees, Trace.

A loud yawn interrupted me, followed by two arms that stretched so far beyond the desk behind me that they practically pulled me back with them.

Letting out a heavy sigh I looked heavenward and shook my head. Ten minutes later Nixon had somehow maneuvered his hands underneath my mop of hair, and was in the process of massaging my neck.

In class being massaged by the substitute teacher. So not how I planned my second week of school going.

But dang, if my neck wasn’t sore. I leaned heavily against his hand as he pushed against the tight muscles, and then I felt his other hand move beneath my shirt. No, no he wasn’t. No. No.

One strategic sinful hand massaged while the other one dove beneath my shirt. If he was going to cop a feel, his balls would be on the opposite end of my pencil.

Whatever his other hand was doing, it felt good. He had moved down my back and was playing with the fastener on my bra.

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