Page 29 of The Rebel (Haven Grace Prep 3)

“Ha-ha. Very funny.”

Chuckling, my eyes meet Jackson’s, and he nods a silent hello. “I promise I’ll call you after. Twin’s honor. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

We hang up, and I place my bag and my phone on the bench. Once I take a sip of my water, I toss it down and go over to Jackson, holding out my hands for him to tape them up.

“All right. Let’s do this.”

He gives me a friendly smile. “Was that Delaney?” I nod. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s good,” I tell him. “Her and Knox seem really happy out there.”

“That’s great. They deserve it. They’ve been through a lot, and so have you.”

I hum, but it’s clear I don’t really want to talk about it, so he drops the subject.

Jackson earned my trust this past spring, when he saved not only my life, but Knox and Delaney’s, too. My uncle, who at one point in time was my favorite, had a secret side to him that Knox ended up involved with. When push came to shove, Delaney and I got caught in the crossfire. Thankfully, Jackson was there. Every part of me thanks Knox for saving Delaney’s life, after he literally took a bullet for her, but Jackson was the one who saved us all.

“How’s that feel?” he questions as he gets done taping me up.

I ball my hands into fists. “Perfect.”

; “Great. Go hit the bag for ten minutes to warm up.”

As I follow his orders, I think about how lucky I am to have something like this as an outlet for my frustrations. Getting to hit something as much as I need without anyone actually getting hurt—it’s perfect. And besides, learning self-defense is how I make sure I’ll never end up in the same situation again.

Delaney worries about me, but I’ve got this under control.

BY THE TIME I get home, I’m utterly exhausted. It’s one thing to work out while feeling good. It’s a whole different game when you do it with a massive hangover. The Advil that Asher gave me wore off shortly after Jackson and I started, and everything only went downhill from there. When I vomited into the garbage can, he called it a day and told me we’ll pick up where we left off on Wednesday.

I manage to stay upright long enough to shower, but as soon as I’m finished, I crawl into my bed with no plans to get out of it for at least the next eighteen hours. Quietly, I mumble the words that come with every hangover ever.

I’m never drinking again.

“WAIT, SO HE COOKED you breakfast, confessed to being crazy about you, and then all but kicked you out?” Lennon repeats, trying to understand the situation better.

I shush her and look around the crowded diner to make sure no one was listening. “Just tell the whole damn world, why don’t you?”

She rolls her eyes and takes a bite of her toast. “It’s not like anyone is paying attention. Take that guy for example.” She points to an old man sitting a few tables away. “I could flash him and he wouldn’t even notice.”

No part of me stands a chance in holding back my laughter at that idea. “Please do. I’d love to see how that goes for you.”

Her head tilts to the side, as if she’s actually considering it, before she shrugs. “Eh, not worth it. And besides, we’re not talking about me. This is about you and Mr. Off-Limits. What are you going to do?”

Shrugging, I don’t verbally answer. It’s clear he feels something for me, even if it’s just a physical attraction—he admitted that himself. The only thing standing in the way of me getting what I want is some stupid rule staying that this is wrong. Well, I don’t buy it. I’m going to make him see that whatever this is between us, it’s worth risking it all.

10

ASHER

The only thing worse than a usual Monday, is a Monday where you have to teach a room full of arrogant teenagers at eight o’clock in the morning. It’s like the universe imagined the most torturous life for me and came up with this—being an English teacher for a bunch of entitled pricks while having a stupidly strong attraction to a girl who may as well be a minor. I don’t know who the hell I pissed off, but damn do they hold a grudge.

I’m in the middle of discussing the events of chapter fifteen when a familiar laugh echoes through the room. I look toward the back of the class to see Tessa smiling brightly and chuckling at something Oakley said. He reaches over and brushes her hair out of her face. She lightly smacks his hand away, but it’s obvious he’s not giving up. I do my best to ignore it—until he picks up his desk and moves it so he’s flush up against hers.

“Beckett,” I growl, getting both their attention. “Since you’re just so talkative today, why don’t you come sit up here with me.”