Layla flipped her long, white blonde hair off her shoulder and, though it seemed impossible, she lifted her chin even higher. “So.”
Donovan didn’t fight the smile that had his cheeks twitching. He moved toward Layla, fingers stretching as he tried to keep himself from touching her. “So… you can’t start acting like you don’t wanna be around me. We’ve never avoided each other before, no matter how vicious the pranks got. We can’t start doing that now.”
Layla glared at Donovan like he stunk. Which, if he was being honest, he probably did, but that was not the point at all. The little brat’s haughty attitude mixed up Donovan’s head and he couldn’t decide, just then, if he wanted to scream at her or kiss her senseless. Then that constant sneer shook her top lip—Donovan thought he must really smell awful—and Layla spoke with a growl that was almost scary. But just almost. “I wasn’t avoiding you and since when do you care what Autumn or anyone else thinks?”
“Hey, listen,” he said through a laugh, enjoying how pinched her face became as he waved his hand, acted as though the whole situation had been nothing but a fun little ride for him. Nothing made him happier than pissing her off. Well. Pissing her off and then having her come at him like she wanted him naked. “You want them finding out, it’s no problem for me. Declan will give me shit about it, but the deed is done. I just thought you wanted to keep our little thing, quiet.” He stepped forward, loving how those narrowed eyes of hers immediately rounded and she stepped back like he was a threat. He was totally a threat. When he pushed Layla’s soft hair away from her eyes, his fingers ignoring his brain’s impulse to keep from touching her, those bright, rough eyes only grew wider. God, he loved how easy it was to get under her skin. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.” Another step and Layla’s back hit the wall next to the door and that obnoxious bag of hers fell to the floor. “Unless you want me getting in those guts again.”
Layla’s lips curled and she released a loud, revolted oath. “Don’t be disgusting.” She pushed on his chest, trying to get him to back up, but Donovan didn’t budge. “I would never sleep with you again. In fact, I’m still not convinced that actually happened.”
Donovan loved the way Layla avoided his eyes, how that pathetic defense of hers hid what he knew she was remembering. “Think what you want, brat. I know what happened.” He moved back into her space, resting his palm against the wall as he looked down at her. She smelled like peaches. It made him hungry for her. “And don’t get all sanctimonious. You got off. A lot.” He traced his finger along her collarbone, liking the softness of her skin, of that thin top, and watched her lips part, wanting nothing more than to nibble on the wet pout of her bottom lip.
“I liked hot dogs once.” She smacked his hand away from her skin. “Then I found out they were made of disgusting bits of pig and shit and it put me off of them for good. Kinda like you.” He didn’t buy her insult or her attitude, not with the way she swallowed and moved her eyes to Donovan’s mouth. “Besides, if it was as earth shattering as you claim, then I’d remember more than a few fragments of images.”
“Need me to paint a picture?”
“No. I need you to step back and let me breathe.” She didn’t wait for Donovan to move and jabbed him in his stomach, elbowing him to her side. “I’ll stomach being around you if you keep your distance. Stop acting like you still want me. We agreed never to speak of what happened again.”
“Yeah, well, you look good today and I kind of lost my sense.”
“What sense?”
The air thickened just then, like it pulsed with smoke, hissed with electricity. It was the same sense that heated around their bodies anytime Donovan argued with Layla. It was the same strange sensation he’d felt at sixteen when he’d filled Layla’s locker with fifty blown up condoms and she’d marched right across the hallway and shoved him against the wall. The air crackled then too because she’d fought back. Because she’d showed him she wasn’t a coward. He’d always passed it off as their anger, their annoyance that the other was still breathing. But as Donovan took a step and Layla took two back, he realized that the hiss was real, that he only felt it when Layla was around. He hated that he noticed. He hated that it was only in Layla’s presence that the sensation moved around him. He didn’t need that bullshit, it annoyed him, but damn if it didn’t feel good.
Still, he wouldn’t let on to how she was affecting him. That brat’s ego was already inflated to ridiculous levels. He wouldn’t add to it. “Nothing but bitchiness comes out of your mouth, you know that?”