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

I feel terrible for what I said to Arch. But it’s almost like he needed to hear it too? I don’t know. I probably overstepped my boundaries. I’m guessing no one talks to Arch like that. He’s the privileged eldest son of an esteemed family and in everyone’s eyes, he’s untouchable. Inhuman.

But he is human. He hurts and bleeds like the rest of us. He also has faults. No one is perfect, least of all him.

I wanted to share with him that I go through struggles when it comes to school, and I ended up talking down to him and calling him out for his faults instead. Probably wasn’t the best approach to take with the only person on this campus who talks to me, but I couldn’t help it.

He needs to realize that to everyone else, he looks like he’s living a perfect life. And if he’s not?

I wish he would tell me. Share his secrets. His hopes and his fears. Though I need to do the same. I’ve barely told him anything.

Yet it feels like he’s got me all figured out.

It killed me to see him sitting with Cadence and her hand on his arm like she owns him. He was kissing me only an hour ago. Devouring my mouth like he was starving and oh God, it woke up all sorts of unfamiliar feelings buried deep inside me. He didn’t even touch me. Just his hungry mouth on mine, kissing me so thoroughly I could barely breathe.

Hot. The man knows how to heat me up and make me want more.

More, more, more.

When he left the dining hall and traced a line across my shoulders, I almost melted with relief. It was a reminder that just because Cadence had her hands on him, he still wanted to put his hands on me.

Or maybe I’m sick and twisted and completely wrong. Why would I be glad a boy let another girl touch him before he touched me? After he kissed me? I should be angry.

Instead, I feel bad.

Sixth period and I can’t pay attention to what Mrs. Nelson is saying, no matter how hard I try. I think about the boy who highlighted his favorite parts in my book. Who was it? Does he know who the book belongs to? I doubt it. If he did, he wouldn’t keep up this conversation with me. No boy is interested in me. Not until Arch.

And he wouldn’t do something like this. This isn’t his style.

I wish I knew who it was.

Courage gathering within me, I grab a piece of paper and start writing. I don’t stop until I get it all out, my every request. I read over what I wrote only once, telling myself I can’t regret it.

I just need to do it.

I want to know who you are. You might be disappointed in me and maybe you will be when you see it’s me, but I want to meet.

After your class. Right after school. Wait outside of Nelson’s classroom. Please? It’s my birthday tomorrow and…I just want to know who you are.

Maybe we can be friends. I don’t have a lot of friends here and I’m always open to making a new one. Besides, I can’t stand the suspense any longer.

I need to know your name.

I fold the note and stuff it in the desk, my heart racing wildly. If it’s JJ, I will die. But I know it’s not JJ. The possibilities of who it might be are endless. There are a lot of guys in my class who I’ve never spoken to before. Nice boys who come from good families. Rich boys with impeccable genes and pleasant smiles. Overachievers who might be intimidated by a girl who’s considered smarter than them. A quiet girl who’s too shy to talk to anyone, let alone a boy she doesn’t know.

Inhaling deeply, I hold my breath for only a moment before I let it all out in a shuddery, agitated exhale. Mrs. Nelson catches me, her brows lowering in concern, but I flash her a quick smile, letting her know I’m okay.

Everything’s going to be all right.

I know it is.

I feel like I’m going to throw up.

Thank God it was quiet in my last class. Advanced physics, which is such a difficult subject. Our teacher gave us free time to catch up on our assignments and ask him any questions we might have. Which was nice. I appreciated the catch-up period but oh my God, it also left me with way too much idle time on my hands and all I can think about is what’s about to unfold.

Right now.

My feet feel like I have lead weights on them as I head for Mrs. Nelson’s class. The halls are mostly empty, everyone having taken off and headed back to the dorms or they’ve gone outside or to whatever practice they need to attend.

I have nowhere to go. Well, except I’m about to meet the person who was highlighting the sexy parts in my book.

I spot Mrs. Nelson’s door, which is closed, and I stop in the middle of the hall to catch my breath, resting my hand on my stomach. It twists and turns, like I could throw up at any second and I swallow hard, trying to regain control.

This is the moment and I’m acting like I’m walking to the death chamber. It’s not going to be so bad.

It’s not.

Taking a deep breath, I drop my hand and march toward the door, looking around. I told him to wait outside but there’s no one here.

Not a single soul.

I open the classroom door, and not even Nelson is inside, which is unusual. My gaze goes to my desk—his desk—but it’s empty.

Someone—a male someone—clears his throat, and I turn around, the shock and relief I feel when I see Arch standing in the doorway nearly has me sagging.

“You’re kind of pushy.” This is all he says to me.

Then he holds up the note. My note.

“It’s you?” I breathe, staring at him in disbelief.

“Yeah. It was me.” He carefully refolds the note and stashes it in his pocket as he strides inside the room. I can see by the guarded look on his face that he’s still wary with me.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier.” I throw it out there before he can say anything. I don’t want us to argue. “It was uncalled for.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “You were right.”

My mouth pops open. “Huh?”

“You were right,” he repeats. “I deserve to be called out for my shit. No one ever does that.”

I snap my lips together, listening.

“Things do come easy for me, but not everything, Daze. My life isn’t sunshine and roses. You’re the one who acts like you’re a Disney princess.”

“With a tragic backstory,” I mutter.

“Yeah. About that. You should share some of those details. If you ever want to,” he tacks on.

I should. I need to. But not right now. “Why didn’t you tell me you were the one highlighting my book?”

“I liked the mystery of it.” He shrugs. “Plus, it was a great way to pick your brain.”

“Pick my brain?”

“And see what you like.” The knowing look on his face has me blushing.

Profusely.

Arch starts walking, until he’s standing directly in front of me. He reaches out, his fingers slipping beneath my chin, tilting my face up to his. His thumb streaks back and forth along my jaw. Down my throat. Making my stomach flutter with nerves. And something else.

Desire.

“You’re kinkier than I thought,” he drawls, and if my cheeks could catch fire, they would be doing exactly that right now.

“I am not kinky,” I insist, my protest weak.

“You like the dirty stuff though. Which is surprising.”

“It’s easier to admit when it’s done anonymously.” My breath hitches when he continues to stroke my throat with his fingers. “You like dirty stuff too.”

“Of course, I do. What guy doesn’t want to shove his cock down his girl’s throat?” He says the words so matter-of-factly, but my brain is still stuck on the last part of the sentence: his girl’s throat.

It’s not even the mention of cock that has me all fluttery and weak.

It’s the way he said his girl. As if that’s what I am to him.

Before I even realize what he’s doing, he grabs my hand, tugging me closer, our bodies colliding, sparks seeming to light up between us. It is such a complete relief that we’re on good terms once again that I’m tempted to melt into him and beg him to never let me go.

But I don’t. It’s still so hard for me to admit I have feelings for him—feelings that I don’t even fully understand.

Feelings I’ve never confessed to anyone before. What we share is…special. Overwhelming.

Does he feel the same way? About me?

“I want to give you an early birthday present,” he announces with a smirk.

I tilt my head back, smiling up at him. “What do you want to give me?”

He tilts his head close to mine, his mouth brushing my ear as he whispers, “An orgasm.”

Giving in to my urges, I lean into him, tilting my head to the side, wishing he’d keep talking.

“Have you made yourself come before, Daze?”

I close my eyes, trembling. This is even harder to admit than how I feel about him.

“You can tell me,” he reassures. “It’ll be our secret.”

Slowly, I nod. I can feel him smile and sort of want to die.

“With your fingers?”

“Yes.” I swallow hard.

“What if I said I wanted to give you one with my fingers.” Those same fingers are streaking down my side, toying with the hem of my skirt.

“Not here,” I whisper.

“Definitely not here.” His mouth finds my neck, his lips warm and soft and I tilt my head back on a sigh. “There’s somewhere I want to take you.”

“Where?”

“Do you trust me?”

I shouldn’t. I absolutely, one hundred percent should not trust this boy as far as I can throw him. I will end up giving my entire heart and soul to him and he will hurt me. That much is guaranteed.

“Yes,” I whisper like the fool that I am.

He pulls away so he can look me in the eyes and all I see is lust. He wants me. Maybe as badly as I want him, and I don’t think I ever believed I’d see someone like Arch Lancaster looking at me like this.

Wanting me like this.

“Ready to go?” he asks, his brows shooting up.

“Right now?”

“Yeah.” His smile is faint.

“Should we change?” I’m always eager to get out of this uniform by the end of the day and put on something more comfortable.

“No.” He tugs on my hand, leading me toward the door. “The skirt will give me better access.”