Chapter 3: New Girl, Part 2

"I'm so sorry." I refused to look anywhere but at my locker, not wanting to see everyone staring at the new girl. "I didn't mean. . . it was an accident. I'm sorry." I shook the pain from my hand and winced.

He slowly pushed my locker door closed. "Are you okay?"

I forced myself to look at him. He had to be pushing six feet tall, and I tilted my head to see his face. Mesmerizing, crystal-clear blue eyes. High cheekbones and dark hair. A strong jaw accented his full lips - lips that were currently curved into a teasing smile, showcasing his bright white teeth.

My gaze lowered to a muscular chest and broad shoulders barely contained by the black, long-sleeved shirt he wore. Black jeans held low on his hips by a belt showcased his svelte physique. And I'd punched him in the face. Embarrassment heated my neck and face.

"I should be asking you that. Are you okay?" I stepped closer, inspecting his cheek.

Nothing. Not so much as a splotch of color. How could he not have a single mark when my hand was throbbing?

"Are you sure I didn't hurt you?" I asked.

He laughed, the sound so thick and decadent it wrapped around me like a hug, comforting me in a way I never knew possible.

"I've taken worse. I'll be fine," he said.

"Okay," I said, drawing out the word. "Is it normal for people to punch you? Because you seem very cool about this whole thing."

He opened his locker and rummaged around inside, not bothering to answer my question.

"Well, I'm sorry," I said again.

"Apology accepted."

"Thanks." I turned around, and to my utter relief, no one stared at me. In fact, no one even noticed I was there.

Glancing down the hallway, I saw Abby finally making her way toward me, but then she stopped to talk to a petite girl with bleach-blonde hair.

"Are you positive you're okay?" he asked.

The sound of his voice startled me, and I turned back to him. He leaned against his locker, his gaze roaming over me as if I was the first girl he'd ever seen.

"May I see?" He nodded toward the hand I held protectively against my chest.

Cautiously, almost as if he were afraid I'd hit him again, he took my hand and gently ran his thumb across my knuckles.

I cringed but didn't pull away. Instead, I took the opportunity to get a better look at him, and what I saw knocked the breath from my lungs.

He was perfection personified, each line and angle of his face meticulously etched as if he'd been hand carved. Long, dark lashes and soft eyes, despite their piercing color. And his complexion was flawless, not a blemish or imperfection.

Brow furrowed in concentration, his tongue peeked out and wetted his bottom lip. And like some sick Peeping Tom, I couldn't stop staring.

"Would you like to take a picture?" The corner of his mouth quirked up into a smirk, and he lifted just his eyes, watching me from under his lashes.

Oh, God. I quickly averted my gaze and stared at my hand, but that wasn't any better because now I focused on his hands. On how slender his fingers were, how his nails were trimmed neatly, how he was currently rubbing the pad of his thumb along the side of my pinkie, and how involuntary shivers were coursing up and down my back.

"Uh, I think I'm good." I removed my hand from his and made a fist. My knuckles were stiff and sore, but I no longer noticed the pain. "Thanks."

"You should probably go to the nurse. Get some ice before that starts to swell."

My eyes widened, and a moment of horror struck me. Yeah, I was not going to go to the nurse and explain what happened. Knowing my luck, I'd get sent to the principal and expelled before I ever made it to my first class.

"Thanks, but I'm fine. Really," I said.

He nodded. "Well, this has been an interesting first day. I hope this isn't how they greet all new students."

"What?" I cocked my head with confusion.

"Apparently, my welcome was a punch in the face."

That only made my faux pas even worse. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm new, too. I'm Chloe."

Another guy sauntered up, and the resemblance to my locker neighbor was unmistakable. The two of them were like walking gods. Perfectly built, graceful, athletic. Flawless.

"C'mon, Trent." The guy barely gave me a second glance. "Stop screwing around with the locals, and let's get to class."

"Oh, I'm not a local," I said, immediately regretting my response. I had a feeling he didn't care one way or another.

"Like it matters," the guy muttered.

"Knock it off, Jax." Trent gave him a scathing look. "Sorry for my brother's lack of manners. I'll see you around." Without another word, he walked away.

I stared after them.

Jax turned back to look at me. No, not at me. Through me. It was unnerving, yet, I couldn't look away. He narrowed his eyes as if squinting against a bright light. Then, as quickly as he'd acknowledged me, he turned away as if I didn't exist.

"Hey!" Abby bounced up to me, and her eyes widened. "Who were you just talking to?"

"Trent and Jax. I think they might be brothers. They look an awful lot alike. I guess they're new, too." I shrugged.

"Hmm." She hummed as if she didn't believe me. "I hadn't heard anyone else was starting today. Other than you, of course."

"He probably only said that to make me feel better." I hesitated, tugging at the hem of my shirt. "I accidentally punched Trent in the face."

"Shut up. You did not?" She laughed loudly, garnering the attention of the students in the hall. "Oh, my God, Chloe. Tell me everything. Don't you dare leave out a single detail." She looped her arm through mine and spun me in the opposite direction.

"There's not much to tell. I apologized for hitting him, and he said it was fine."

"I don't care about that." She waved her hand dismissively. "It's extremely rare for us to get new students, and now there's not one but two super-hot new guys? And they were talking to you?" Awe and jealousy dripped from her voice. "That's definitely something to talk about."

I rolled my eyes.

"Wait until I tell Rachel. She's going to freak."

"It's really no big deal, Abby."

"All right. . ." Abby drew out the words as if she thought I was insane for not wanting to gossip about the new guys. "This is our first class." She walked into the room.

I hesitated in the hall for a moment longer. I can do this. I turned to walk into class, but I ran face first into a shirt full of hard, cool muscle. I slowly lifted my head and was met with a scowl. A very annoyed scowl that quickly morphed into a breathtaking smile.

"My face wasn't enough? You need to assault my chest, too?" An almost imperceptible hint of humor laced Trent's words. He stepped around me, muttering something under his breath that I couldn't decipher.

Can today get any worse?

I stopped at the teacher's desk in the front of the room and handed him my schedule. He gave me a textbook, then instructed me to find an empty seat. I headed straight for the back of the room when I noticed Trent staring at me. Again. Only this time, when I looked back at him, he slipped on a pair of sunglasses and turned away.