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He stood and walked a step, then two, toward the bed. Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod. My pulse picked up.
We continued to one up each other throughout the summer, as the tension between us tightened—right under our parents’ noses. I would be lying if I said that trying to bring him down didn’t take over my entire life. See, having a nemesis is like drinking a vat of coffee on a day you’ve had no sleep—you feel shaky and tingly all over, like you can conquer the world, but you also want to cry, and time passes by in a blur while you behave without any sense of reality or consequence. And sometimes it makes you feel more alive than anything ever has.
“Mason, what are you doing?” God, my voice sounded breathy. “I don’t know,” he admitted, finally releasing me. “But I recommend you stay away from me before things get even more out of hand.” I should’ve listened to him.
“If you try to kill me, I’ll get you arrested,” I told him, trying not to show him any fear. “And then poof! There goes Harvard for real this time.”
His eyes glittered in the moonlight, like they’d swallowed the stars.
My cock went hard at the association. My butterfly wanted a daddy? She’d get one.
You’re serious about her. As a motherfucking war.