The Unwanted Twin and Her Alpha Protector

Chapter 4.1: Regrets

Riley POV

Holy f*****g smokes. The boy was gorgeous and not just in a hunky way but a work of pure art. His dark hair was a close match to my own raven colour, and his eyes were so dark they were almost obsidian. He was huge, easily dwarfing me, and his body, God, his body alone was enough to make me drool. He was practically screaming he had a six pack, and some sick part of me wanted to know for real, debating whether it would be rude to run my hands underneath his shirt and feel his muscles. I salivated, envisioning it all in my mind, the image so clear that it left me reeling. Damn.

Yeah, it would definitely be rude. Sooo damn tempting though. I wonder what kind of punishment I would get for doing it. It might be worth it, I mused to myself, licking my lips, unaware of the boy's eyes lingering on me or hearing his sudden sharp inhale of breath. If I had, it might have given me some much-needed confidence.

Bad Riley. You can't just go around molesting male students any time you feel like it. I don't think they would be appreciative of it, although...some might. This guy, however, screams off-limits. It's easy to tell he has that Alpha vibe going on. His d**k is probably huge too! God, he's so much better than Jacob in Twilight. That was a poor representation of what a werewolf or shifter is like. Damn, when's the last time I watched that movie...

My thoughts went off on a tangent. I had a habit of doing that. It was like I couldn't control them sometimes. It never bothered me, though, not until now.

Jesus Riley. Get a hold of yourself before you're committed to the mental asylum. He's already looking at me strangely. I cough, focusing on the present. Now was the time to show him that I was capable, smart, clever, witty. Anything that would make me look more attractive and appealing to him.

“Sorry,” I squeaked and could have face-palmed myself for sounding like a complete moron.

Seriously. That was the best I could do? I had suspicions that this embarrassment was going to haunt me for the rest of the day. Gods, I hoped it wasn't something the gossips in the school got hold of.

Yes. I was definitely making an impression, just not the kind I wanted. Why oh why, was I being so awkard here and now? Any other time would have been fine.

Maybe I could pretend he's in his underwear? Isn't that supposed to make you feel less nervous or anxious? Okay, God, it's not helping; it's making things worse.

I sighed, deciding it was best to admit defeat. I was no femme fatale. I was just ordinary, clumsy, awkwared me. It was now that I missed the girls from Nightingale Academy the most. They would have picked me up, laughed, and offered me a joint, handed me some alcohol to wash away the embarrassment, and handed me candy to soothe my soul. I sighed. I doubted I would make any friends here that would have the same sort of calibre as my bitches. Another regret in life, another thing to cry over in the dead of night.

He had to be a jock or something. Maybe he was on the football team? Definitely had the build for it. I stood back up, and he followed suit, silently handing me the papers, his eyes lingering on my face for a moment, as though trying to commit it to memory.

I tried not to blush. Looking like a ripe tomato was not attractive in the least. My cheeks burned, though, betraying me. I fought the urge to bend my head and hide my face.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” he said finally, tilting his head and eying me with curiosity.

“I’m new,” I mumbled, glancing away from him to hide my red face.

Way to go, Riley. State the obvious. Of course, you're new.

Jesus. His voice was oozing with masculinity. It was enough to make a girl swoon! It made me weak at the knees. I fought to keep myself from slithering to the floor as a wet, hot mess.

“Name's Dax,” he finally said, holding out his hand to me.

Dax. Even his name was sexy. It should be illegal.

I shook it. His grip was strong, confident. He oozed with s****l appeal. I swallowed hard and reluctantly let go of his hand.

“Riley um,” I paused and then remembered, “Riley Sullivan.”

I wasn't Riley Smith anymore. I was a secret. An embarrassment to the family. A stain on their perfect image and reputation.

“Try not to make a habit of tripping into innocent people,” he advised, smirking, “not all of them are as forgiving as me.”

He was trying to smooth things over and be nice. I could have left it there. I could have remained silent, watched him leave, and maintained some form of dignity. Unfortunately, my mouth opened, and I spoke before I could take it back.

“I only trip into the hot sexy ones,” I blurted out and wished that the ground would instantly open and swallow me whole.