My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 23

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Chapter 23 Laughter Sparked by a Dangerous Whisper

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He shifted his chair until the side of his knee pressed flush against my thigh through the fabric of my skirt. The solid, radiating heat of his body was instantaneous. He rested his left forearm on the table, boxing me in, cutting off my view of Chloe and the rest of the room.

I froze, the pink eraser slipping from my fingers.

Ryder turned his head. His face was mere inches from mine. The scent of worn leather, clean rain, and sharp peppermint completely overwhelmed my senses, drowning out the smell of the old books.

He didn’t look at the room. He didn’t check to see who was watching. He looked only at me.

“Drop the pencil,” he commanded, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that vibrated against my skin.

My fingers went numb. The yellow plastic barrel fell from my grip, rolling across the desk and bumping into my textbook.

Ryder reached up. His large, calloused hand brushed past my shoulder. I sucked in a sharp, quiet breath as his long fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of my neck. He didn’t pull, but his grip was firm and heavy, a grounding weight that sent a massive, terrifying jolt of electricity straight down my spine.

He leaned in, his cheek grazing my temple. His mouth was hovering right next to my ear.

My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought my chest might crack. I couldn’t breathe. Every single muscle in my body locked tight, completely hyper-aware of his heat, his smell, the rough texture of his fingertips resting against my scalp.

“You’re holding your breath again,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over the sensitive shell of my ear. The low vibration of his voice made my toes curl in my shoes.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my hands gripping the edge of the wooden table to keep from completely falling apart.

“I can’t help it,” I managed to squeak out, my voice so thin it was barely a sound.

“You can,” he whispered back. His thumb swept a slow, deliberate arc across the skin just behind my ear. The touch burned. “You just need to stop thinking about them. They don’t matter. They’re just a bunch of bored kids staring at something they don’t understand.”

He shifted his weight, his broad chest pressing against the side of my arm. The physical reality of him was entirely overwhelming.

“You want to know what I’m thinking about right now?” he asked, the rough gravel in his tone dropping even lower, completely stripping away the noise of the study hall.

I gave a tiny, jerky nod.

“I’m thinking about the fact that you bite your lip when you’re terrified,” he murmured. “And I’m thinking about the fact that you organize

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Chapter 23 Laughter Sparked by a Dangerous Whisper

your pens by color, because I saw them in your bag.”

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I opened my eyes, staring at the dark wood of the table. He was paying attention. He noticed the tiny, insignificant details of my life that

I thought were completely invisible.

“But mostly, Ryder continued, his voice shifting, losing a fraction of its dark intensity and taking on a dry, almost self-deprecating edge.

I’m thinking about how my left leg is currently entirely asleep.”

I blinked.

“What?” I whispered, turning my head a fraction toward him.

His face was right there. His hazel eyes were bright, the harsh, bruising lines of his jaw softened by the close proximity.

“My leg,” he repeated, his breath warm against my cheek. “I kicked the metal desk leg when I sat down. It hit a nerve. My entire foot is

numb. If Mr. Caldwell tells us to stand up right now, I’m going to collapse face-first into your calculus book.”

The absolute absurdity of the image slammed into me.

A laugh bubbled up in my throat before I could stop it. It wasn’t a polite, quiet giggle. It was a genuine, surprised, and slightly breathless

laugh that escaped my lips and carried into the quiet room.

I slapped a hand over my mouth, my eyes going wide.

Ryder didn’t pull away. He stayed exactly where he was, his hand still buried in my hair, his body pressing against mine. But the corner of

his split lip curved up into a real, devastating smirk. The dark shadows in his eyes vanished, replaced by a warm, golden light that

completely transformed his face.

“There it is,” he murmured, his voice thick with an entirely different kind of heat.

I lowered my hand, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. I couldn’t stop the smile from taking over my face. For the first time

since Harper Vance started her rumor, the cold, heavy dread in my stomach was completely gone.

I looked at him. Really looked at him. Beneath the leather jacket and the bruised knuckles, there was a boy who knew exactly how to

dismantle my panic with a single, ridiculous sentence.

He stared back at me, his gaze dropping to my smiling mouth, and the smirk on his lips slowly faded, replaced by something much heavier

and far more intense.

The air between us grew thick, charged with that same chaotic static electricity from the cafeteria. My smile faltered, my breath catching

again, but this time, it wasn’t from fear.

“Mr. Steinmann. Miss Petrova.”

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Chapter 23 Laughter Sparked by a Dangerous Whisper

Mr. Caldwell’s sharp, nasal voice snapped across the room like a whip.

I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat.

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Ryder didn’t flinch. He slowly, deliberately pulled his hand from my hair, letting his fingers trail against my neck before dropping his arm.

He didn’t move his chair away. He kept his knee pressed firmly against mine as he turned his head to look at the teacher.

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