You Said I Was Your Favorite (A Lancaster Prep Novel)
You Said I Was Your Favorite: Chapter 14

I’m still turning over in my mind what Arch said to me. Over and over again, his deep voice on repeat.

I was going to tell you I like the braids. And the socks.

I haven’t worn my hair in two braids in years. I figured they looked too childish but this morning, something told me to put my hair in two French braids versus only one and so I did.

The socks? They’re new. I bought a variety pack of cute socks to wear with my uniform when I did a little back-to-school shopping and immediately felt silly for purchasing them. And mad at myself for wasting money on them too.

Again, something compelled me to put the socks on this morning. They’re cute. Even a little sweet.

That Arch noticed something different about me—two things that are different—makes my heart expand.

And this boy should absolutely not have that sort of effect on me whatsoever. He’s cold and cruel and he says the worst things.

He says nice things too though. Interesting things.

Still can’t get the words he said to me last night out of my head either. The pussy remark? I’d completely forgotten. It was the other words he said. The tone of his voice. His breath hot in my ear, his presence looming. Warming me from the inside out.

Maybe you can imagine it’s me doing those things to you instead of some fictional character.

He probably believes I’m scared of my sexuality and was disgusted by his remark, but I wasn’t. No, I did exactly what he said last night before I fell asleep.

Instead of the usual, faceless fictional character I imagine doing—things to me, I thought of Arch. It wasn’t my fingers moving between my legs last night.

They were Arch’s fingers. His mouth on my ear and his hand in my panties, touching me while he said unholy things to me that left me a shuddery, exhausted mess. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Why are you two staring at each other?” Vivian’s voice breaks through my Arch-induced fog and I glance over at her to find her watching me, concern in her eyes. “Please tell me he’s not starting another fight with you.”

I slowly shake my head. “He’s being a perfect gentleman.”

I steal a look at Arch, who’s grinning.

Vivian snorts in disbelief.

“Archibald Lancaster, do you know how to be a perfect gentleman?”

“My mama enrolled me in etiquette courses when I was ten,” he says with the utmost seriousness. “I can manage to be a gentleman when it’s called for.”

“Well, when it comes to our Daisy, it’s always called for,” Vivian says, harumphing as she drops herself into her desk chair.

“If I promise to be on my best behavior, will you let me hang out with you two instead of shoving me away in that damn closet you call an office?” Arch raises his brows.

Vivian studies him for a while, chewing on her lower lip. I think there’s a part of her that enjoys bantering with Arch. Just like I do. There’s something about him. Even when he’s mean and awful, he’s also still somehow…appealing.

Charisma. That’s what he has. Tons of it. He has a magnetic presence that draws people to him despite themselves. I’m just one of many who’s intrigued by him. I’m definitely nothing special.

That’s what I’m trying to tell myself.

“What do you think, Daisy?” Vivian turns to me, as does Arch.

Power surges through me as I study him, knowing I’m the one who will make the final decision whether he stays or goes. The rational part of me says he should absolutely go. Make him suffer in that stuffy, awful office. But he doesn’t like closed-in spaces. That much is clear. And neither do I.

But my soft side, the one that leads with my heart and various other parts of my body, wants him to stay.

“You can hang out with us,” I finally say.

Vivian mutters oh dear under her breath while Arch grins, the sight of it dazzling.

Leaving me dizzy.

“Vivian.” Matthews enters the office, all of us swiveling our heads in his direction. “I’m about to hop on a call in ten minutes and I was hoping you could join me. I need you to take notes in case I miss anything.”

Vivian stands up straighter. “Of course. Daisy can be in charge. Let me gather my things and I’ll be right in.”

He smiles and nods, his gaze sliding over Arch, with no acknowledgment whatsoever, before landing on me. “Good morning, Daisy.”

“Good morning.” I smile at him. Can practically feel the snarl on Arch’s face for being ignored.

Another thing he doesn’t like. He prefers all eyes on him.

Once Matthews is in his office and Vivian is about to join him, she turns on us, her index finger out and wagging. “No funny business from you, Arch.”

“What about Daisy? What if she’s up to funny business?”

I almost laugh. He’s so antagonizing.

“I don’t expect it from her. She’ll be fine. You? I don’t trust you.” Vivian’s gaze narrows. “Be good.”

He throws his hands up as if he’s about to be arrested. “You can trust me.”

“Ha!” She turns and enters Matthews’ office, closing the door behind her.

Leaving us alone.

I go to the empty desk and settle in, dropping my backpack on top of it. Arch makes his way toward me, leaning against the desk, standing right next to my chair. So close I could reach out and touch his hip. His thigh.

But I don’t. I could never.

“Want to get up to some funny business?” He waggles his brows at me and I finally let go of the laugh that I’ve been holding in.

He seems pleased. I can see it in the way his eyes glow. The faint smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. I shake my head, still laughing, probably laughing too much, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“We have to answer the phones since Vivian is in the office with Matthews,” I point out.

“Will you show me how?”

“I thought Vivian showed you yesterday.”

“I already forgot.” He goes and grabs a chair, pulling it right up next to me and sits, his shoulder brushing mine. “You don’t have a problem answering the phone?”

“No.” I shake my head, wondering what he might do if I crawled into his lap and settled in. “Is that shocking?”

“Yeah. You always seem so nervous.”

“I do?”

“Definitely. But maybe that’s because I make you nervous.” He turns his head toward me, his gaze locking on mine. “Is that it? Do I make you nervous, Daze?”

Yes. One thousand times yes. “Sometimes.” I shrug.

“Why?”

“I worry about what you might say.” Okay, that’s not a lie.

“Oh yeah.” He leans back in the chair, kicking his legs out in front of him. “That makes sense.”

This boy. I don’t know how to act around him. Or what to say. He definitely makes me nervous and jumpy and even a little nauseous. Lightheaded. Overwhelmed.

Overcome.

The phone rings and I automatically answer it. “Thank you for calling Lancaster Prep. How may I direct your call?”

I can feel Arch’s eyes on me as I listen to the older gentleman ask to speak with Headmaster Matthews. “I’m afraid he’s in a meeting right now. Would you care to leave a message and I can give it to him when he’s available?”

I take down the man’s name and number and hang up the phone. Tearing the message off the sheet, I rise up, leaning over the desk to leave it on top of Vivian’s.

Arch’s gaze drops to my skirt. I can feel it. Hot and curious. And when I glance over my shoulder, his gaze lifts, meeting mine, and I know for a fact he was staring at my butt. The back of my thighs.

My entire body feels as if it caught fire.

“You sound like a professional,” he murmurs.

“You make that sound like a bad thing.” I’m breathless over his compliment, which is ridiculous.

“It’s not. You have a phone voice.” I glance over at him, frowning. “You do. It completely changed when you answered that call.”

“I sounded like a dork, didn’t I?” This is embarrassing. A bad idea, having Arch sit right next to me. Critiquing me. I will never measure up to this boy’s standards. He is on a whole other level compared to me. An unreachable level.

“Not at all.” He’s shaking his head, catching his lower lip with his teeth. “Doesn’t this school have an automated phone system?”

I nod slowly, my gaze caught up in his. “If they hit zero, they get me.”

“If I hit zero, will I get you?” The words fall from his lips with no care and they make no sense. Not really. Though I get this feeling that he’s trying to see if he can…

Get me.

No. Absolutely not. I’m reading too much into this.

“I’m ungettable,” I tell him, my voice firm.

“You are?”

I nod, trying to calm my accelerated breaths.

“Is that why you keep to yourself, Daze? You’re not interested in human interaction of any kind?”

I’m desperate for human interaction—of any kind. Does that make me pathetic?

Probably.

“Pushing everyone away is a lonely existence,” he continues, shifting closer. Close enough that I can smell him and feel his body heat radiating toward me. He’s not wearing the uniform jacket—when does he ever? And neither am I and it feels like layers have been peeled back between us. It would take nothing for me to touch him. Or for him to touch me.

I’m not brave enough to try and touch him so we know that’s not going to happen.

“It’s easier though. Letting someone get too close is only opening yourself to heartbreak, you know?” A shuddery breath leaves me and I regret saying those words immediately.

“You’d rather be lonely than heartbroken?”

“I’m currently dealing with both emotions, but yeah, I’d rather forget the heartbreak and be lonely forever. Keeping to myself is easier than letting someone in.”

His gaze roams over my face, like he can’t quite believe I just said that.

“Who broke your heart?” The fierce way he says the words has my brittle heart dropping and I stare at him, realizing that he sounds almost…

Protective.

“My mother’s death,” I whisper. “And I don’t think there’s any way I can put it back together again.”

The pain on his face is obvious. Is he thinking about what he said to me? How I have mommy issues? He’s not wrong. I do have mommy issues. And that’s why his words struck such a chord with me. They hurt because it’s true.

And I hate that about myself. I wish I could say I was healed and open and willing to love and be loved. But people my age scare me. They’re so careless with their emotions and words. Like Arch.

Like everyone.

I’d rather retreat and watch life unfold than participate in it.

It’s easier.

The phone rings and I answer it automatically, like I’m a robot. I can still feel Arch’s gaze on me, heavy with questions, but I don’t look at him. Instead, I focus on the call, and the next one after that, grateful for the deluge. Trying my best to ignore him when he shifts closer, his arm brushing mine before it settles.

Resting right next to mine, his warmth bleeding into me. Leaving me breathless.

Reminding me that I’m not as robotic as I’d hoped.

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