Wreck Me (Corrupt Legacy Series #2)

“Keep dreaming.”

When the most intense, awkward, and titillating hour ends, I rush out of the classroom, needing to be away from him.

In the hallway, I inhale a lungful of air, shoving the strange interaction from my mind.

Dane winks at me, but I turn around before he can say anything more inappropriate. I’ll give him this round.

“Abi?” Blake calls my name.

“Hmm?”

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes, great.”

We walk side by side outside. Trimmed bushes and strategically placed trees breathe life into the landscape. Cobblestone paths connect the main building to the sports facility, science laboratory, and library.

I see Kaden on a bench, head bent over a piece of paper. Next to him is Bailey, her eyes are glued to her phone.

We reach them when I feel the air crackle with his presence.

“You have to show me around.”

Even Kaden, who usually shows as much interest in the goings-on around him as a sloth does in running, peels his eyes from his letter to Dane.

I turn to Dane and grab his shirt, yanking him to my eye level.

“You reek of rebellion, poor decisions, and not giving a fuck.”

Bailey chuckles. Blake laughs. My annoyance with this guy amuses my friends.

“Stay away from us. This can either be a good or bad year for you,” Kaden says.

I am compelled to look back at Dane. He doesn’t even grimace at Kaden’s words.

“You still owe me a tour.”

Our eyes lock, and suddenly, I feel all kinds of warm—like my body has the flu. Goose bumps cover my skin. This guy makes me sick, and my body repels him.

When Dane leaves, I can’t stop peeking at him. He catches me and winks. I roll my eyes at the smirk on his face.

“Stay away from him,” Kaden says.

“Whatever. He’s no one.”

He pins me with an intent look, his expression clearly saying, “I know you.” I am well aware that Dane is bad news.

“What?”

“This year might be bad for me, but it could be better for you.”

True. Since Kaden and I became an item in front of the Family, the pressure has vanished. It’s as if they’re saying, “Goal accomplished—now enjoy your life.”

The next two classes go by, and he’s not in either.

A pang of something undefined strikes me—must be anger at his nerve. Dane has that in spades, along with arrogance, and, ugh, it’s frustrating. Why am I still giving him so much space in my head?

When the bell rings announcing it’s lunch break, I walk inside the cafeteria.