Page 67 of The Cheerleader is Off Limits

“I didn’t confirm anything. I’m still pissed at you,” he says matter-of-factly.

Goosebumps pop up all over my arms despite the warm temperature because I don’t think anyone’s ever been pissed at me.Maybe my brother when we were younger and we used to fight about everything. And that was just normal sibling shit. But the thought of him angrily masturbating to thoughts of me kind of turns me on.“I know.”

“I shouldn’t be doing that.”

“Okay, well, unless you submit a video to the school board of you doing that, I think you’re safe. No one is going to know what goes on in the privacy of your own home when you’re alone.”

“Iknow what I’m doing, though, and I’m disappointed in myself.”

“I don’t know what to say about that. Sorry I make you want to masturbate?” I chuckle sarcastically.

“This isn’t a game, Sloane. You can’t… call me. Or message me… I told you we don’t exist to each other for the rest of the year.”

“Okay. I won’t again. I’ll see you at school on Monday. Goodb?—”

“When are you leaving?” he says, interrupting my attempt to end the call.

“Not sure yet.”

“It’s late,” he offers.

I pull my phone away from my ear because I actually have no idea what time it is.Just after one thirty. Damn, it is late.“I don’t have a curfew, remember?”

“You should. It’s dangerous for two girls to be out by themselves. I don’t even like the idea of you taking an Uber alone while you’re drunk.”

“Are you saying… you want to come get me?” Hope blooms in my chest at the idea of him picking me up and spending the night fucking him in his bed again.

“No. Wherever you are is swarming with students and you’re with your cousin. I surely cannot pick her up as well.”

“What if I was in trouble?”

“Don’t,” he repeats. “Do not try to manipulate me.”

“What if… I needed you, Daddy? You wouldn’t come get me?” I pout, and I hope my voice sounds like I’m doing that as well.

“That’s not going to work.”

“You’re still on the phone with me. I think it’s working a little.”

“I’m in hell,” he says. “Sloane, even if I wanted to, I cannot come get you.”

“Do you? Want to, I mean?” He chuckles but doesn’t answer. “What?” I ask.

“It really doesn’t matter what I want. Right now, it’s impossible.”

“It matters. Tell me what you want.”

“What I want is for my life to be easy. What I want is for the woman I met on a plane two weeks ago that I cannot stop thinking about not to also be in my fucking biology class.”

I don’t respond immediately, sifting through my intoxicated thoughts to come up with the best reply. “I’m sorry for that.”

“We really should not be talking.”

“Right.”

“But I need to know you get home safely. Just send me a message when you’re home.”

I nod before remembering that he can’t see me. “Right, okay.”