I moan. Yes. Fuck, yes.

Our legs thread together, the heat between her thighs hitting my center, and she slips her hands under my skirt, grabbing my ass through my panties as we go at each other, kissing and nibbling and grinding.

“Liv…” I whimper.

I lick her tongue and groan, kissing her hard and fierce and closing my eyes, because everything is spinning, and my body is on a roller coaster. I’m fucking flying right now.

She lifts my leg, and I can’t stop. Grinding and panting as I slip my hand up her shirt, pulling down her strap, so I can get my hand inside her bra. She dives down to my neck, and I tip my head back, letting her have it all. I want her. I want to feel her and kiss her and touch her everywhere.

Our lips come back together, again and again, eating each other up, kissing frantically. I brush her nipple, and my clit throbs.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” she whispers, shaken. “Are you kidding me right now?”

I know, all right? I know. I wasn’t afraid. I was…

Jealous. I’ve wanted this since we were freshmen, that first day we met, before the fighting started.

And when I knew she liked me, I was so happy, but…

Ashamed. Tears spike my eyelashes, even with as happy as I am right now. I was so ashamed.

She brings one hand up, grabs the back of my neck and takes my bottom lip between her teeth. I pause, savoring the fire blazing inside my body.

Our foreheads meet again. “We have to stop,” I murmur.

I fumble and squirm, trying to push her away, damn near wrecked because I’m aching for this. I don’t want to let her go.

But she doesn’t let me. “No,” she bites out in a whisper. Her mouth crashes down on mine again, and I can’t fight. I hold her head, soaking up how soft she is. How beautiful she smells and how hot her mouth is.

I barely notice as she lifts up my skirt and yanks down my panties just enough to bare my sex, but then she fiddles with her own clothes between us, and in a moment, she’s on me. Her pussy rubs against mine, and I pull away from her mouth to moan as she grinds on me, the friction of our skin agonizing.

Agonizing but perfect. It’s hot and wet and…

She grips my ass, her head dipped into my shoulder as I wrap my arms around her neck and meet her rhythm, both of us fucking against the lockers.

“Ugh!” I cry out as she goes at me.

I’m consumed. This is what it feels like. This is what right feels like. It was always wrong before. Kissing someone. Letting them touch me. I never had that burn low in my belly.

I was never hungry.

Until her.

I sink into her mouth again, kissing, sucking, tasting…

At least there’s this. I thought hating her was enough. If I couldn’t have this, at least I had her attention. Even if it was bad.

At least I could destroy what I was going to lose anyway in three months when we graduated, and I couldn’t look at her every day anymore.

But God, I do hate her. Her smile and her red lips. The way she smudges her dumb eyeliner, making her eyes look smoky and captivating, and her wild hair that always looks like it flew through the wind before she put it up in a ponytail.

Her olive skin, how her bracelets make music every time she moves, her chipped, black nail polish, and those stupid biker boots with all the buckles she wears that make her legs so hard not to look at.

The way she rolls her skirt up, and I can’t pay attention in calculus.

I hate it all. How every part of her looks like it has a taste.

I whimper as our pace gets faster, and I feel and hear her breathe hard, in and out as the friction turns heavenly.

And this isn’t even all we can do to each other. “God,” I pant.

She hovers over my mouth. “Come to my shitty house tonight,” she demands. “Sweat with me between the sheets?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

I want to sneak out. Into a dark place with Olivia Jaeger and do things.

All night.

But then a voice pierces the air. “Oh, I know!” someone says.

I pop my eyes open, stopping. What?

Giggles and laughter follow, and I hear the creak of the locker room door.

Oh, shit. Ice courses down my veins as everything goes cold. This can’t…

I can’t…

Oh my God.

Another voice follows. “And then he was like…”

Fuck!

I push at Olivia. “Get off me.”

She stumbles back, and I reach under my skirt, pulling up my underwear.

Jesus Christ. I’m just a world of stupid today, aren’t I? Anyone could’ve seen us.

I step back over to my locker, avoiding Liv’s gaze as I check myself in the mirror, righting my clothes again and tightening my ponytail.

I see the wet wipes on the floor and kick the package back over to her.

Sweat seeps out of my pores as girls round the corner just in time, and I look up, seeing Amy and Krisjen.

They stop, bags slung over their shoulders as their eyes dart from me to Olivia, noticing us there.

“Hey,” Amy says.

Both of them stare at Liv, struggling to contain their smiles until Amy finally breaks down in laughter like the cat that ate the canary. Another punch of guilt hits me about the video. I cast a glance at Olivia and see her ignoring all of us as she pulls on a short, black leather jacket.

She won’t meet my eyes.

“Are you okay?” Krisjen asks me, giving my back a sympathetic brush of her hand as she passes to her locker.

The knots in my stomach start to ease. I don’t think anyone saw us.

The last time they saw me was when I was walked with Jaeger to the front office after the fight, so I’m sure they want to make sure I’m not in trouble.

“Are you kidding?” I steel my spine and swipe my finger under my eye, fixing my eyeliner. “Nothing is tastier than a piece of cake.”

They both laugh at my jibe, and I dart my eyes up again, finally catching Olivia’s.

Her head is turned toward me, staring at me with a mixture of pride and wrath.

Someone clears their throat, and I blink, seeing Amy turned toward Olivia.

“Would you mind?” Amy asks her.

Liv looks over her shoulder at her.

“I don’t feel comfortable changing in front of you,” Amy explains.

I clench my jaw.

But Liv remains silent.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to dull the embarrassment for Liv and tell Amy no one wants to look at her pancake nipples, but…

I don’t. Liv stands there for a moment, as if waiting for something, but I just ignore her and finish touching up my face.

Her locker door slams closed, and I jerk, seeing her move out of the corner of my eye and walk toward me.

She strolls past, knocking my shoulder with hers as she goes. “Don’t cross the tracks.”

And then she’s gone, her threat hanging in the air as the locker room fills with the P.E. class coming in.

I almost laugh. She’s rescinding her invitation for Night Tide, I guess.

Lucky for her, I love getting on her bad side.

“CLAY.”

I draw in a breath, pulling my head out of the clouds where it always seems to be now, and turn around.

“Take these to the kitchen,” my mother says.

I take the tray, the empty bowls on top clanking together as I carry them away.