His smile splits, cracks in half.
Carter, lounging opposite like he's been waiting for this cue, finally chimes in with a lazy grin.
"Mate, even your shadow looks embarrassed to be seen with you at this point."
The corridor erupts. Teddy's ears flame scarlet.
And my brain? Cycling through headlines on repeat: (Pick your roast energy~~~)
A: Somebody calls maintenance—Teddy's ego just leaked all over the corridor.
B: Breaking news: Teddy's dignity has officially left the building.
C: Honestly? Man's one bad roast away from turning into a PSA on bullying.
✦✦✦
Honestly, this corridor's seen so much drama it deserves an exorcism. Lily hooks her arm through mine like we're fugitives fleeing a crime scene, Carter trailing behind like he just adopted two strays. Somehow, we tumble into class together. Chaos, table for three.
Lily drops her books with a groan. "If this lesson doesn't kill me, it'll be the combined fumes of Arabella's perfume and Pembroke's hair gel. My lungs are on strike."
Carter slides into the seat behind us, grinning. "You're dramatic."
"Dramatic?" Lily whirls, scandalised. "Darling, I'm traumatised."
He leans an elbow on her desk, close enough she swats at him with her pen. "Traumatic, then. Honestly, you're like the attack dog Aurora never asked for."
"Excuse you." Lily flicks her hair like it's a whip. "Emotional support rottweiler. Get it right."
Carter smirks, tipping back in his chair. "More like a chihuahua on Red Bull."
Lily gasps so loud the front row jumps. "Did you just call me short?"
"You said it, not me." His grin is infuriating.
The laugh bursts out before I can swallow it—God, the sexual tension is louder than the chalk on the board. Get a room, you two.
Yep—I'm third-wheeling.
Then—
Adrian.
He leans back one row behind, voice low and smooth, almost lazy.
"Keep poking her and you'll end up with bite marks. And honestly—" That smirk ghosts across his mouth, eyes flicking to mine like it's deliberate. "—I wouldn't mind front row seats."
Lily lights up like she just won Eurovision. Carter groans into his hands.
And me? I'm calculating how to explain to my future kids that yes, their father seduced me during complex numbers.
The board is a blur of chalk, but the only number I can track is how many seconds it's been since he smiled.
✦✦✦
Finally. Class over. Forty minutes of math equations and forty minutes of me pretending my feelings weren't imaginary and irrational. I deserve hazard pay.
Ping. One chime, a hundred phones. The kind of notification that kills algebra faster than fire drill.
Every screen light up at once.
📌
From: Office of the Headmaster
Subject: Heritage Committee Revival
YOU ARE READING
Bound To Be Yours 🦌
Teen FictionAdrian Sinclair isn't just St. Augustine's golden boy. He's my curse-𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓸𝓫𝓼𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷. He says I saved him. He never realised I was the one who pulled him under. St. Augustine's is a cage made of gold. Everyone here is starv...
Chapter 14 The Better Plot Twist
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