Agreements With Mr Rich Boy | ✓

16 | Trespassing

"EXCUSE ME," I said, slipping past him. I could feel him watching me, his intense eyes burning into my face and neck, but I resisted making eye contact. Well, less resisted and more like, actually couldn't. My legs were shaking discretely at this point, but I knew that if I was to meet my eyes with his own... let's just say, it would no longer be discrete, especially not if vibrant red cheeks joined the party.

Pull yourself together, woman.

Miles would probably tell me, repeatedly, how I'd missed the chance of getting with him.

I shook myself in disgust.

The day I 'get with' Archer Redwood is the day people in this god forsaken school see me as more than a peasant— or whatever other degrading name they were throwing around now.

My hand drifted to the wall as I walked, needing to feel the intricate details of the painting to my right, just to be sure it was real. To be sure all of this was real. They'd told us of how old everything decorating this place was, most of it no less than several hundred years. It just didn't seem possible, what with the perfect condition they were maintained in.

I hoped I wouldn't have to cross many people on the way to wherever my feet decided to take me. It seemed my wish had been granted as I passed no one, absolutely no one. They were all likely residing in their rooms, drinking champagne and having baths in diamonds or gold or whatever else rich people did in their free time.

I'd been walking for so long that each ornament or statue I passed looked the same and I was pretty sure I'd been under the chandelier above me at least three times. To my left, however, there was something I hadn't seen before.

A door, almost completely blending in with the wall. It took my eyes a good few seconds before fully seeing its outline. Though obscure and otherwise uninteresting, it provided something different to the faintly peach coloured walls that I was beginning to grow bored of. A new area to fawn over.

I eased the door open, realising that it couldn't be so secret if the door wasn't even locked. Even so, I peeked my head around it to check the coast was clear. When I saw no one, I shimmied past it and let it close behind me, a little louder than I had anticipated. My steps froze. There seemed to be no outraged students or professors barging in any time soon, so I figured I was in the clear.

The corridor I'd let myself into was narrower than the other and seemed to be more personally decorated. I couldn't explain how I knew this, only it felt less like someone had chosen that red ottoman because it matched the curtains and more because they liked the colour red.

The paintings, each encased in thick golden frames, hung from each wall but oddly, not in an overstated way. They were spaced evenly and with windows between them, so dappled, golden light could reach for myself, desperate to relieve me of the cloak of shadow that embed itself to my form.

I stepped towards one of the windows. It looked upon the extensive grounds that seemed to stretch for miles and miles in every direction, joining with the farmer's fields in the far distance. I supposed it needed to be so huge, in order to accommodate the stables and the maze— which I couldn't see the centre of, even at this height— and the flat areas with fountains and statutes and—

"Can I help you?" A voice said.

I spun, my eyes landing on the tall, dark figure of Noah Ramirez. His hands were stationed in his pockets and his brow raised in confusion, but I noticed quickly he didn't look in the least bit angry at me trespassing. I untensed, though only slightly.

After many fumbled attempts at starting an excuse, I opted for the truth. "I was just exploring," I told him. "I didn't know it was restricted or anything, honest. If I had, I promise I wouldn't have come." Whatever I was rabbiting on about sounded just as stupid out loud as it had in my head, but I still grappled with the right words to get me the hell out of this situation.

"Perhaps explore the East Sector next time," he said, watching me with brown eyes. He stepped closer to me, his fresh scent wrapping around me like a warm blanket, as welcomed as one after a few hours in the snow. "Not everyone is as..." he thought for a moment. "... understanding as me. Your name?"

I knew Miles would be a pool on the floor by now, completely taken with the spanish beauty.

I coughed, a little awkwardly. "J-Jolie."

He picked my hand up within a blink of an eye and raised it to his face. I didn't quite know what to do as his lips made contact with my skin, his breath making goosebumps erupt all over. "Mucho gusto en conocerte, Jolie."

I almost went into cardiac arrest.

The space between my skin and his own increased as he eased up and I let my hand fall to my side, limp but silently buzzing.

"Sorry again, Mr Ramirez," I cringed internally. It sounded more like sex talk than being formal, which would feel strange anyway with someone so close to my age.

He did something I didn't expect then: he laughed. It was light and just as smooth as it was when he spoke. It really wasn't all that difficult to believe that this was the guy that had girls and older women alike falling at his feet.

The amusement dancing in his eyes was clear and genuine, but I was beginning to feel very aware that it was lucky that he had been the one to find me, and not any of the others. And the others would be coming back soon.

"Noah," he said, in way of an introduction. "See you around, Jolie."

And with a wink, he was disappearing further down the hallway and through another door.

I swallowed down my curiosity and went back the way I'd come.