His Trouble Maker

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

73%

JESS

“AAAAAAH!” I scream at the top of my lungs, loud enough to rattle glass and probably kill birds mid–flight.

Logan nearly jumps out of his skin beside me. “Shit, Jess–what the hell?”

“It’s our fucking break,” I snap, dragging both hands down my face like it’ll peel the memory off. “Where the fuck is our teacher? I’m about to lose my mind.”

He raises a brow. “You mean more than usual?”

don’t answer. Because the truth is: I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. Not with him in my head. In my blood. In every inch of my skin.

I clenched my thighs three times this morning in the shower and nearly cried from how wrong it felt.

“You good?” Logan asks again.

I blink at him. No. I’m not good. I’m not even close to good. But I can’t say that.

I can’t say that Grayson Westwood broke into my room last night and told me I was his.

“I’m fine,” I mutter. “Just tired.”

Logan studies me. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Worse.

I saw the monster in the woods and he saw me.

The bell rings. I shoot out of my seat so fast I nearly knock the chair over. Logan grabs his bag and follows, jogging to catch up as I storm into the hallway like movement might erase the last twelve hours.

The halls are crowded. Loud. Smelling like sweat, wet grass, and too much cheap cologne.

No Grayson.

Good.

I don’t want to see his face. I really, really don’t.

“Are we going to the caf?” Logan asks.

“No.”

He blinks. “Cool. Love that. Super specific.”

I don’t answer. I just keep walking–fast, aimless, heart pounding like I’m late for something I don’t even want to show up

to.

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12:40 Wed, 30 Jul G.

Chapter 9

“You wanna sit outside for a bit?” he tries again.

“I said no.”

Like a slap. I wince and

for

Can I ask

“Does it come

He snarts. “Serious question.”

“Wow, rare.”

Grayson walking in our

1 stop

the middle of the hall. One foot

“What?”

exhibit. “Right there. Past the chem lab. He’s–oh yeah,

No.

No no no.

don’t want to

I really don’t.

But I do.

where

my eyes lock forward, Grayson Westwood

Probably pissed as hell, too–since I kicked him square in the balls last night right after he

Mine.

my skull like a bruise I

his chest, the pressure

my jaw, but my breath betrays me.

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12:40 Wed, 30 Jul

Chapter 9

shifts beside

can’t answer. I can barely

you going

like everyone heard the only Grayson asking if I’m going to lunch. Shit. Shit. I need to get out

” Yes,

Us.

I nearly choke.

turns to me, smiling like he just did something helpful. I widen my eyes–warning him. Screaming at him silently to shut the fuck up.

can’t read a room

Or mine.

were gonna hit the cafeteria–unless, you know,

myself if it meant getting out

a storm dropping in all at once. “No,” he says, finally. “I don’t have anything Alpha

“Cool,

Cool, man.

swear to the fucking moon goddess, I will murder

takes a step

Just one.

to make every nerve in my body snap tight like pulled wire. My lungs forget how

look at

already looking at

Me.

okay with

I blink H–Huh?”

3/5

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