Craving The Badboy
“Please. That was therapeutic.”
But the feeling of relief was short-lived. Something pulled my gaze across the cafeteria—to a table near the windows where a small group of students sat, laughing.
Carter Hayes was there.
Casually leaning back in his chair, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He had one arm draped around a pretty brunette in a cheerleader uniform, while another girl whispered something in his ear that made him laugh, an easy, disarming sound that didn’t match the cold intensity I had seen in his eyes earlier.