My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 43

Chapter 43 Secret Fingers Intertwined Beneath the Bleachers

She raised her arms, hitting her first mark perfectly. As she turned, her gaze swept over the student section.

She found us instantly.

Her artificial smile faltered. Her eyes narrowed into two sharp, venomous slits as she took in the sight of Ryder sitting right beside me, completely ignoring the rest of his usual crowd to claim the space next to the scholarship girl.

I stiffened, the familiar, cold dread creeping back into my stomach.

Ryder noticed.

He didn’t look at Harper. He just shifted his arm, dropping his hand from the bench behind me and resting his wrist casually against my waist. The solid, heavy weight of his arm pinned me gently against his side. It was a loud, undeniable statement of ownership broadcast directly to the queen bee of Crestview Prep.

Down on the floor, Harper missed her second mark. She stumbled, her foot catching against the ankle of the girl next to her. The entire left side of the formation wobbled, completely throwing off the routine.

A collective gasp went up from the bleachers. Harper’s face flushed a deep, furious, mottled red. She quickly recovered, but the damage was done. The perfect routine was ruined.

“She’s going to make me pay for that,” I whispered, the dread expanding, making my chest feel tight and hollow.

“She can try,” Ryder rasped, his tone flat and completely devoid of concern.

The music from the speakers shifted, growing impossibly louder. The heavy, thumping bass physically shook the metal beneath us. The student section began to stomp their feet in time with the beat.

The noise became a solid, crushing physical entity.

My vision swam slightly. The harsh, bright overhead lights of the gymnasium seemed to strobe in time with the music. The air thinned out. I dragged a breath in through my nose, but it felt like I wasn’t getting any oxygen. The sensory overload I had been fighting off since I walked into the room was finally breaching my walls.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I dug my fingers into the heavy leather of Ryder’s jacket, twisting the material into tight knots. I pressed my knees together, trying to make myself as small as possible, trying to disappear into the noise.

I didn’t want to perform anymore. I didn’t want the audience to look at me. I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

Then, the heavy weight of Ryder’s arm lifted from my waist.

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Chapter 43 Secret Fingers Intertwined Beneath the Bleachers

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The loss of his heat made a cold shiver run down my spine. I thought he was pulling away. I thought he was adjusting his posture to look

more casual for the crowd.

But he didn’t pull away.

His large, calloused hand slipped off my waist and disappeared beneath the thick, folded leather jacket resting on my lap.

The heavy material created a dark, completely hidden pocket between my thighs and his. No one in the row above us could see. No one in

the row below us could see.

I froze, my breath completely stalling in my throat.

Under the cover of the jacket, his rough knuckles brushed against my bare knee. The touch was scorching hot, sending a massive, erratic spike of adrenaline straight through my veins. He didn’t stop there. He slid his hand upward, his fingers moving slowly, deliberately across the denim of my skirt until he found my tightly clenched fists.

He didn’t ask. He didn’t hesitate.

He pried my stiff, white-knuckled fingers away from the bunched-up leather. His touch was incredibly gentle, a stark, jarring contrast to the heavy combat boots and the dark bruises on his face.

He slid his large palm against mine. His long fingers laced seamlessly through mine, completely enveloping my small hand in his dark,

rough grip.

The air rushed back into my lungs in a sharp, fractured gasp.

The deafening roar of the gymnasium, the stomping feet, the blaring bass-it all faded into a dull, distant static. The overwhelming heat of the room was completely eclipsed by the burning, focused fire of his skin against mine.

I opened my eyes and looked at him.

Ryder was staring straight ahead at the basketball court. His jaw was locked tight, his profile a harsh, sharp silhouette against the bright gym lights. He looked entirely bored. He looked like the untouchable, indifferent bad boy who couldn’t care less about the pep rally or the people sitting around him.

He was putting on a flawless performance for the crowd.

But beneath the heavy leather jacket, where no one else in the entire world could see, his thumb was slowly, rhythmically stroking the sensitive skin on the back of my hand.

It wasn’t a public show of ownership. It wasn’t a tactical move to ruin Harper Vance’s cheer routine or secure my scholarship. It served absolutely no purpose for our fake relationship, because there was no audience to witness it.

He was holding my hand simply because he knew I was drowning in the noise, and he wanted to anchor me.

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12:50 Fri, Jul 10

Chapter 43 Secret Fingers Intertwined Beneath the Bleachers

My chest ached. It was a sharp, profound pressure right behind my sternum, so intense it almost brought tears to my eyes.

I stared at his profile, completely stripped of my defenses. The contract we signed in the library was a worthless piece of paper. The boundary lines I had tried to draw were entirely obliterated.

I’d burn that school to the ground before I let him put his hands on you again.

The deleted text message wasn’t a slip. It was the truth. And this hidden, heavy grip beneath the jacket was the physical proof.

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