18: Bothering Him

18.

Brandon’s POV

Something about Ivy’s relationship with Demi didn’t sit right with me.

I noticed it when Demi started making them sit at our table during lunch, always keeping her tucked under his arm, right next to him, like she was some kind of accessory. And Ivy always sat there, stiff and silent, barely touching her food.

The way her shoulders were always tense, like she was bracing herself for something. The way she flinched when Demi touched her, even when it was just a hand on her arm or a brush of his fingers against her neck.

The way she never laughed anymore.

Not that she was ever loud or outspoken before, but at least she used to exist in a space without looking like she wanted to disappear.

And yet, week after week, she was still there. Sitting beside him. Quiet. Uncomfortable. Trapped.

When I actually asked her about it, she tensed so fast, so obvious, like I’d just caught her off guard. Then came the hesitation, the brief flicker of something behind her eyes before she rushed out the most unnatural, forced answer I’d ever heard.

Like she was reading off a script.

Ivy was just some overachieving, straight-A student. The type who never stepped out of line, never spoke unless she had to, never did anything that wasn’t by the book. The kind of girl who had her whole future mapped out, who spent her time buried in textbooks instead of getting caught up in drama.

And Demi?

He was a walking red flag. A D-student who barely showed up to class, a chain smoker who reeked of cheap cigarettes and bad decisions. A guy who spent more time skipping school than actually attending, always hanging around the worst kind of people.

They didn’t make sense together. She was too smart to actually like someone like him.

They were exact opposites.

Before I could think too much about it, Amari’s voice pulled me back.

“I don’t believe you were going to starve me of this,” she teased, her voice smooth, playful.

I turned to see her smirking, that same satisfied look she always had after we had sex.

We had actually just finished having sex, and our bodies were pressed close together in the dim, musky air of the locker room, the heat between us still lingering even after it was over.

We had been doing this everyday, ever since that first day. The day I received that mind-blowing blowjob from her. In school, always slipping away to the locker room when no one was looking.

And out of school, either at her place or mine, or hidden places in public.

We were mates, after all. So this was natural.

Amari was a vixen, skilled and intoxicating. Her skills were unparalleled, and she knew precisely how to pleasure me.

Every touch, every movement, every teasing glance was deliberate, calculated to drive me to the edge.

And damn, did she do it well.

Out of all the girls I'd fucked in my life, Amari topped the list. I couldn't even think of ever turning her down again. It was like I couldn't get enough of her.

“Yeah, well,” I muttered, still slightly breathless. “Can’t believe it either.”

Her smirk widened and she looked pleased. 

We started fixing our clothes, making sure we didn’t look like two people who had just spent the last few minutes fucking each other's brains out.

As I pulled my trousers back on, my gaze drifted toward the small window of the locker room. And something outside caught my attention.

At first, it was just movement. But as I looked closer, my jaw tightened.

It was Ivy and Demi.

My fingers froze on my belt.

He stood too close to her, a cigarette dangling from his fingers, and instantly, something in my gut twisted.

I watched as he took a slow drag, then exhaled. Not into the open air, not away from her, but directly into her face.

Ivy's reaction was immediate.

Her body jerked slightly, her face already red as she coughed violently, turning her head, trying to escape it.

But before she could step back, before she could put even an inch of space between them, Demi’s hand snapped out, grabbing her wrist and yanking her forward again.

My frown deepened, irritation flaring in my chest.

She tried to pull away again, her shoulders trembling slightly as another cough wracked through her.

And all Demi did was just laugh like it was all some big joke. Like she wasn’t a person but a toy he could yank around however he pleased.

Something tightened in my chest, hot and sharp. My hands curled into fists at my sides before I even realized it.

“Bran.”

I turned, blinking.

Amari was adjusting the strap of her bag, watching me expectantly. “We’re running late.”

I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to look away as I walked out with her from the locker room.