My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 114

Chapter 114 He Crushes The Love Note

His posture radiated a cautious, guarded tension. He did not step into my personal space. He remembered my panic in the darkroom. He

kept his hands shoved deep into his front pockets. He maintained the physical boundary. He gave me an escape route.

“Hi, I breathed. My voice shook.

I moved my hands, attempting to shove the cream paper into my skirt pocket.

The motion drew his gaze. His hazel eyes locked onto the folded square. The golden flecks narrowed. He possessed the sharp, instinctual observation of a predator. He tracked every shift in my demeanor. He noticed the tremor in my fingers. He noticed the expensive quality

of the paper.

“What is that?” Ryder asked. The caution in his tone vanished. A dark, probing edge replaced it.

“Nothing, I lied. I pushed the paper deeper into the pocket of my pleated skirt. “Just a reminder for the student council meeting.”

Ryder took a step forward. The distance between us shrank. The scent of clean soap and dark coffee washed over me, erasing the sterile smell of floor wax. The heat from his broad chest pushed against the cold morning air.

“You do not attend student council meetings,” he stated. His gaze remained fixed on my hand. “And student council reminders do not

come on heavy cardstock. Show me.”

“It is garbage, Ryder.” I grabbed my canvas bag from the floor. I swung the strap over my shoulder. I tried to redirect his attention to the open locker. “Did you finish the history reading for first period?”

He ignored the question. He closed the remaining gap. He towered over me. The ambient noise of the B-wing faded into meaningless static. The passing students turned into a blurred background. He pulled his right hand from his pocket. He held his palm open between

“Give it to me, Raisa.”

His voice dropped to a low, commanding rumble. It held zero room for debate. He did not ask. He demanded. The request bypassed the

fake dating rules.

My pulse hammered against my ribs. I looked at his open palm. I looked at the dark, restless energy rolling off his broad shoulders. If I refused, I confirmed the importance of the note. If I surrendered the paper, I ignited a fire I could not control.

I reached into my pocket. I pulled the cream square free. I placed it onto his calloused palm.

76

Ryder unfolded the paper.

I watched his face. I studied his features as his eyes scanned the neat, elegant cursive. I expected a sarcastic remark. I expected him to mock the poetic language. I expected him to view the note as an annoying threat to our fake public image, a logistical problem we needed

1/2

13:10 Fri, Jul 10

Chapter 114 He Crushes The Love Note

to solve to keep the rumors dead.

76

༢༡6

The air around him turned lethal. He did not scoff. He did not laugh. The golden shards in his eyes darkened into a pitch-black,

bottomless abyss. The boy who practiced careful restraint on my front porch vanished. The boy who backed away in the darkroom ceased

to exist.

He stared at the black ink. He read the line about the harbor. He read the line about the act. He absorbed the invitation for a real date.

His long fingers tightened around the paper. He crushed the expensive cardstock. The thick material crumpled with a sharp, harsh crunch.

He reduced the elegant handwriting to a ruined ball of trash in his fist.

He lifted his head.

He did not look at me. He looked down the long stretch of the B-wing corridor. He scanned the faces of the passing male students. He searched the crowd with a fierce, starving hunger for destruction. He hunted the author.

The reaction possessed zero trace of a performance. He did not crush the note to maintain a fake reputation. He did not scan the hallway for the benefit of an audience. Harper Vance and Trent Lawson were nowhere in sight. We stood alone in our own isolated pocket of the

school.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify