You Said I Was Your Favorite (A Lancaster Prep Novel)

You Said I Was Your Favorite: Chapter 13



I should’ve never said what I did to Daisy. I probably blew her mind, saying something so dirty to her, and it wasn’t even that dirty.

Okay, it was a little bit, but I bet I shocked the shit out of her, encouraging her to think of me.

Sexually.

Can’t get the image of hot little Daisy Albright lying in her narrow bed, her busy hand between her thighs, fingering herself into total bliss over some corny dialogue in a sexy book. Fuck that. I would rather she think about me whispering something way hotter in her ear while she fingered herself. Or even better…

Letting me finger her.

Once the image takes hold in my brain, I can’t let it go. No matter how hard I try. I run another mile just to sweat it out. Sweat her out.

It doesn’t work.

My mind is filled with thoughts of Daisy. Naked Daisy. All golden limbs and rosy nipples, shyly kissing me. Scared to take it any further because she’s innocent and sweet and no one else has ever touched her.

Not like I want to touch her.

I bet she’d be hot. And wet and creamy, with a swollen pussy and a greedy little clit just dying to find release. I could give it to her. I could make her feel so good, but she’s not meant for me.

And I’m not meant for her.

Didn’t stop me from going back to my room and taking a hot shower though. Jerking off under the blast of steamy water to thoughts of Daisy on her knees, her lush lips parted and ready for my cock.

I come so hard at the imaginary vision I end up slumped against the tiled wall, breathing hard. Heavier than I did when I pushed myself running only moments ago. Harder than I ever did when I’ve had sex with other girls.

There have only been a couple, but all of them fade away. They were nothing. Meaningless. Pointless.

Jesus, I’ve got a serious issue.

And her name is Daisy.

The next day at school I prowl around the campus like a predator on the hunt for its prey. Cadence says hi and I growl at her. Mya calls me an asshole and I give her the finger. JJ keeps his distance, as do the rest of our friends, and when I enter my first class of the day, I settle into a chair in the very back of the classroom, my gaze fixated on the back of Daisy’s head.

She doesn’t even turn around to look at me.

Of course, she doesn’t.

Today she’s wearing a short sleeve button-down shirt, her slender golden arms on display. Her skirt is hiked up, showing off her firm legs and she’s got ankle high socks on with her loafers. The white socks are trimmed with lace and give off that good girl vibe she’s got going on. And then there’s her hair.

Don’t know why I’m so fascinated with it, but she’s wearing two braids this morning, the ends tied with a snippet of silky blue ribbon. Any other girl I’d find it too cutesy. On Daisy, it’s adorable.

Adorably sexy.

I watch the back of her for the entirety of class. To the point that I notice every little twitch. The way her shoulders rise almost to her damn ears when Winston starts talking about the essay that’s due soon.

Wonder if that stresses her out.

She toys with the end of her right braid at one point, twirling the wisps of hair over and over again around her finger and I’m fascinated. Desperate to do the same thing to her. Touch her hair. Ignore her protests that I’ll only mess it up. I won’t. I’ll be careful. I just want to touch her. Hear her murmur with pleasure when I hit a spot that she likes. Maybe I could kiss her behind her ear. Breathe in her sweet scent. Try to control myself because the girl is like a drug that hits my bloodstream, making me crave more, and I don’t want to scare her—

The bell rings and I blink, shocked I let my thoughts be filled with Daisy and nothing else for the entire period.

By the time I’m out of my desk and slinging my backpack over my shoulder, Daisy is already gone.

My steps determined, I follow after her, breaking out into a jog when I spot her just ahead. I catch up with her easily, slowing my pace so I’m walking right beside her and she glances over at me, shock dawning in her golden eyes.

“Morning,” I greet, staring at her pretty face.

When did I realize she was so damn pretty anyway? Before, I thought she was mousy and plain, but I was wrong. So fucking wrong.

“Hi.” Her voice is soft, her gaze skittering away like she’s scared to look at me for too long.

“You going to the office today?” Apprehension clutches at my heart, preparing for her to say no.

“Yes.” She nods and the relief that hits me is like a punch to my solar plexus, leaving me breathless.

This is fucking ridiculous. All over a girl.

“Think Viv will let me answer the phone?” I raise my brow, noting how her eyes dance with amusement.

“You probably shouldn’t call her Viv.”

“She doesn’t mind.” She’d probably give me detention if she heard me call her Viv, but it’s worth the risk just to see Daisy almost smile at something I said.

“I very much doubt that.”

“Hey.” I touch her arm and she comes to a stop like I do, and I turn to face her. She tilts her head back so our gazes meet, her braids falling behind her shoulders and the urge to touch her hair is so strong, I have to clutch my hands into fists to stop myself. “Do me a favor and try to convince Viv to not stow me away in that shitty office today.”

“Why?”

What would she say if I told her I just wanted to sit with her at the desk and pretend that Viv likes me, while I listen to them talk about gardening? I could give absolutely zero shits about gardening and soil and flowers but it would be the perfect opportunity. I’d let myself look my fill of Daisy’s face without any interruptions. Watch her mouth move as she speaks. Enjoy the sound of her laughter.

Yeah, that’s what I want to do the most. Listen to her laugh. She’s always so quiet everywhere else she goes. In class. In the dining hall.

In the office, she’s more relaxed. Open. Even animated.

“I’m tired of stapling. I’ve built a callus from that damn stapler.” I hold up my uncalloused hand, running with my excuse.

Her gaze shifts to my palm, her lips barely curving into a smile before she looks at me. “I don’t see a callus.”

“I’m lying, Daze. I’m just—I’m tired of sitting alone in that office. I think I’ve done my penance. Let me hang out with everyone else.”

She starts walking and I do too, staring at her profile, willing her to say something. Anything.

“That’s not up to me,” she finally murmurs.

“You have influence. Pull.”

“I should still be mad at you.”

My heart trips over itself and I’m surprised I’m not sprawled on the ground. The pain in her voice is obvious.

I’m such an asshole.

I should probably apologize for everything I’ve said and done, but it’s like I can’t. It’s humanly impossible for me to say the words, I’m sorry to anyone. Not my parents, not my siblings, not my friends or former girlfriends. I’ve never had to apologize for who I am, and why should I? I’m not sorry for the things I’ve done.

With the exception of what I’ve said to Daisy. I hurt her.

And she didn’t deserve that.

“You probably should be,” I agree with her, rushing forward when we get to the admin building to hold the door open for her. “But let me make it up to you.”

“Make up what?” She enters the building and I follow behind her, restraining myself from tugging on one of her braids. What am I, six? “The horrible things you keep saying to me?”

“Horrible things I keep saying?” I repeat back to her. “Like what?”

I know what she’s referring to. Last night when I said the word pussy to her.

When I told her to think of me when she masturbates.

Does she even masturbate? Or is she too freaked out by the thought of touching herself there? Is she one of those girls who can’t even say the words out loud? I’m guessing yes. I’d probably drop dead before I ever heard sweet Daisy Albright utter the words pussy or cock or cunt.

Pretty sure those words aren’t part of her vocabulary.

“You were rather inappropriate toward me last night, Arch,” she says, her voice wry. The pointed look she flashes me over her shoulder as she keeps pace ahead of me is intriguing. I want to see it again.

“Inappropriate? Are you talking about when I asked if you were looking for pussy?” I say the last word a little too loud and I’m surprised she doesn’t shush me.

Her cheeks turn the palest pink. “I forgot you even said that.”

Uh huh. So, she’s definitely still thinking about my fingers in her panties remark then.

I shift closer to her, so close my front bumps against her back, her ass brushing my junk for the briefest moment. Enough to make my eyes want to cross. “You’re referring to the hand in your panties comment then, hmm?”

She sucks in a sharp breath. I hear it. Practically feel it. I reach around her and open the admin office door for her and she scurries forward, creating distance between us like she needs it, and I stroll inside after her, feeling high on fucking life.

High on Daisy.

“You want me to say nice things to you?” I ask as she hurries toward the empty desk next to Vivian’s—who’s nowhere to be found, thank God. “How about this?”

She whirls on me, her eyes wide and unblinking. “Don’t say anything inappropriate. Please.”

“I was going to tell you that I like the braids.” My gaze drops to them, how they lie across her tits. “And the socks.”

My gaze drops to her feet.

“Oh.” A shuddery breath leaves her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Tension slowly fills the room, heady and thick, and I take a step toward her, eager to…what? Touch her?

Yes. I want to touch her. At least her hair, and at least for a second. Maybe two. I’m not asking for much.

Daisy visibly swallows and her lips part, as if she might want to say something. I wait, curiosity paralyzing me completely.

The moment is ruined by Vivian dashing into the office, hip checking me as she walks past. “Good morning, children!”

Nothing like a middle-aged high school secretary calling Daisy and me children to ruin the mood.

Thanks, Viv.


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