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

I enter my English class the next morning in a daze, my head still swimming with thoughts of Arch. What we did last night. How he touched me. How he kissed me. How he left me.

That hurt the most, but he did it for me. At least that’s what he implied. And when he whispered in my ear before he kissed me, those words still live inside me, just like everything else he says to me.

Every fucking dirty thing your sweet mind can come up with, that’s what I want to do to you, Daze.

I have a pretty vivid imagination, thanks to the romance books I read. And while I’ve never done any of the things I read about, beyond kissing Arch for the first time last night, I can come up with all sorts of…sexual situations. Involving me and Arch.

My entire body goes liquid at the mere thought.

Glancing around the room, there are only a few students sitting at their desks. Two girls sit close, talking in hurried whispers, and when I walk by, one of them glances up, her gaze meeting mine.

“Hi,” she says, surprising me.

“H-hi,” I return, scurrying away before I say something stupid and falling into my desk at the front of the class.

Why can’t I be normal? Why can’t I just be friendly and not worry over it all the time?

I really need to work on my social skills.

Minutes later and the bell is about to ring, but still no Arch. This isn’t unusual. He runs late always. He has his own clock and doesn’t care what anyone thinks, while I’m early to the point of ridiculousness.

Mr. Winston enters the classroom, whistling under his breath, cheerful as usual. He flashes me a smile and a few days ago, I would’ve thought he looked handsome. I still sort of think that. He’s young and attractive and a lot of girls on campus have a crush on him.

But now when I think of someone handsome, I immediately think of Arch. I think of the way he kissed me with this almost—desperate quality. Like he somehow knows whatever it is we’re doing won’t last and he needs to get as much of it, as much of me, as he can.

I feel exactly the same way.

A sigh leaves me and Mr. Winston gives me a funny look.

“Morning, Daisy.”

“Good morning, Mr. Winston,” I say just before I glance toward the door.

Still no Arch.

“Distracted?” my teacher asks.

I turn back toward him. “A little tired, I guess.”

I didn’t sleep well, my head too full of what happened. Reliving those moments over and over.

The taste of Arch’s hot, wet mouth. His tongue. His hands. How he touched me, his fingers eliciting fire everywhere they landed…

The bell rings, interrupting my thoughts, and Winston goes to the door, about to pull it closed when Arch slips inside, flashing our teacher a rueful smile before he glances around the room, his blue gaze landing on me.

“Glad to see you’re on time for once,” Mr. Winston greets him with a shake of his head.

“Barely,” Arch tells him with a laugh, making the rest of the class laugh too.

A slow smile spreads across Arch’s face and he heads straight for me, settling into the empty desk directly behind mine. I angle my body toward his, unsure of what to say, taking him in silently.

His hair is damp, as if he barely just got out of the shower, and his tie is looped haphazardly around his neck like usual. He is wearing the navy blue uniform jacket though, which is different. He never wears that thing.

“Morning, Daze,” he says, his deep voice washing over me, landing in a low throb between my thighs.

“Hi,” I squeak, whirling around to face the front when Mr. Winston starts taking roll. I’m the first name he calls and I murmur, “Here.”

I’m achingly aware of Arch’s presence, Winston’s voice fading into nothing but unintelligible noise. I remain still, my head tilted slightly to the right, as if I can see him out of the corner of my eye.

He shifts closer after Winston calls his name, his presence only amping up the wild beating of my heart. “Only one braid today, huh?”

Nodding, I turn a little more, meeting his gaze briefly. “Yeah.”

He smiles, his gaze on my mouth. Like he’s remembering kissing it. “Why don’t you ever wear it down?”

“Mr. Lancaster, are you really going to sit behind my best student and disturb her?” Winston’s voice rings across the classroom and I sort of want to die.

“I thought I was your best student.” Arch shifts away from me, kicking out his legs, his feet touching the front legs of my chair.

Gosh, he’s long.

“You’re one of them.” Winston sounds amused. “Think of what you could be if you actually applied yourself.”

I’m almost offended on Arch’s behalf but he just laughs like it’s no big deal. They’ve had this sort of conversation before and it used to irritate me. How hard I would work to earn my grades while it feels like Arch just strolls in and does well without having to think about it.

I need to talk to him about this. Is he a complete genius or what? I’m smart. I know I am. But I also put a lot of effort into my studies, my papers, my tests. I want to be the best I can be.

It’s like Arch is just…the best with little to no effort. That’s sort of infuriating.

But now I’m intrigued.

Winston starts talking about our reading assignment, analyzing passages and questioning the motives of the author. This is usually my favorite sort of lecture, because I love looking deeper into what an author writes, though I’m guessing a lot of the time, there’s no real meaning behind the words. They’re just telling a story.

Right now, though? I can’t focus on anything else but Arch’s nearness. His scent. His feet touching the legs of my chair. What is he thinking? Is he thinking about me like I am him?

After a few minutes of listening to our teacher, I feel something. The light touch of Arch’s fingers toying with the end of my braid. He tugs on it, gently at first.

Then a little harder.

Only to curl my hair around his finger, his thumb rubbing against it slowly. Back and forth. Tingles spread over me, starting at the top of my head and working their way down until I feel like I’m covered in goosebumps. I hold still, my breaths coming faster, my lips parted.

He’s going to kill me if he keeps this up. His innocent touch that doesn’t feel innocent at all. Like he’s trying to drive me out of my mind with…lust.

It’s working. The emotions rising within me are unfamiliar but welcome. I feel downright giddy, even when he stops touching me. When he lets go of my hair and leans back in his chair, his legs still sprawled. I wish I could look at him. Just blatantly stare at him for the entirety of the class period.

Ducking my head, I blow out a breath, vaguely annoyed with myself. I’ve got it bad for this boy and I…I shouldn’t. He’s dangerous to my wellbeing. He’s careless and thoughtless. A troublemaker. And rich beyond anyone else I’ve ever encountered. Once he graduates, he’ll be gone and I’ll never see him again.

Just the thought of that…hurts. More than I want to admit. Even to myself.

By the time the bell is ringing, signaling class is over, I’m in a full-blown funk thanks to the turn of my thoughts. Who am I fooling, thinking Arch Lancaster is really interested in me? So we kissed yesterday. Big deal. I’m sure he goes around kissing girls all the time.

All. The. Time.

I am nothing special.

Without a word I exit the classroom, leaving Arch behind, and of course, me being me, I immediately feel terrible for being so rude.

But that doesn’t stop me from fleeing. Besides, he’ll just follow me because we’re both going to the same place.

By the time I’m reaching the admin building, Arch’s fingers are curling around the crook of my elbow and he hauls me around the side of the building so I end up with my back against it, Arch standing directly in front of me, his expression thunderous when I look up into his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he demands.

I blink up at him, at a loss for words. All I can do is shrug one shoulder.

“Talk to me, Daze.” He touches my face and I melt like the weakling that I am for him. “You just tore out of there and I was hoping you’d wait for me.”

“You want to be seen with me?” I whisper, staring at him in disbelief.

“What the fuck are you saying? I don’t have a problem being seen with you.” His hand drifts down to curve around my neck, his fingers exerting just enough pressure to tilt my head back.

And then his mouth is right there, on mine. Brief and soft and just long enough to have me closing my eyes, desperate to savor the moment.

“Think Viv will notice if we both don’t show up to second period?” He murmurs the question against my lips.

“Yes, she definitely will,” I say when he pulls back.

He frowns. “Guess you’ll have to instruct me on how to answer phones then.”

“Again? You haven’t picked it up yet?” I can’t believe I’m teasing him after having a minor meltdown not even five minutes ago.

I really need to get myself together. I’m making everything worse when in reality, nothing is wrong.

Everything is scarily going my way.

Can’t help but think something horrible is going to come along and ruin everything though.

“I can’t help that I’m easily distracted.” He’s staring, not saying a word, and I realize he’s referring to me. That I’m a distraction.

“Arch…”

“Why don’t you ever wear your hair down, Daze? You never answered me earlier.” He reaches out, tucking a few stray tendrils behind my ear, his finger brushing against my skin and setting off a fresh scattering of goosebumps.

“It always gets in my way,” I say with a little shrug. He’s asked me this question before. Like he’s fixated with my hair or something. I don’t get it.

“I want to see it down.” His gaze is intense, his voice extra deep. “Would you ever do that? For me?”

For him. Right now, and the way he’s watching me, I would do anything for him.

Anything.

The bell rings and I literally squeal, pushing past him and running toward the double doors. Arch is right behind me, both of us entering the office seconds later, me offering an apologetic smile in Vivian’s direction.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” I tell her, my words sliding all together.

Vivian waves a dismissive hand, bustling past us as we make our way toward the desk where we usually sit. Lately together. “Don’t even worry about it. I need you two to do something a little different for me today anyway.”

“What’s up, Viv?” Arch asks, cheeky as can be.

The look she sends him would level a normal person, but Arch just slips his hands in his pockets and smiles at her. “I need you both to go to the library where the storage area is. We’re looking for a couple of boxes full of old photos and I haven’t had a chance to try and dig them up yet.”

I’m surprised she hasn’t asked my dad to grab the boxes, but his duties are mostly outside so maybe that’s why.

“What do you need the old photos for?” Arch asks, because of course he does. He has no qualms questioning things because this institution is his heritage. His family.

Me? I would’ve just done what Vivian asked with no questions.

“The school website is being redone and the web designer wanted to use old photos. I knew we had a bunch and thought they were somewhere in here, but Miss Taylor said they’re probably stored away in a couple of boxes in the library. But she’s too frail to dig through them,” Vivian describes.

“Miz Taylor is older than dirt,” Arch agrees, earning an annoyed glare from Vivian.

“She knows far more about this campus than anyone else here,” she says. “You could probably learn a thing or two from her.”

“I already do,” he says solemnly. “We chat every day during sixth period.”

“You’re in the library during sixth period?” I ask him.

He turns his gaze on me, and I lock my knees so they don’t wobble like they want to. “It’s a free period for me. So I hang out with Taylor every day. We talk it up.”

I find that hard to believe. The woman is slightly terrifying. Always shushing students even when we whisper. She barely tolerates us. Imagining her chatting away with Arch doesn’t seem possible.

“Daisy, I trust you to carefully look inside the boxes and find the ones with the photos. Arch, you’re going because you’ve got the brawn to carry the boxes and this is your family’s school so you might discover a thing or two going through everything,” Vivian explains.

I’m surprised she’s letting us do this—alone. Hasn’t she noticed the tension growing between us? It’s quiet and private in that old room. We could get up to whatever we wanted and no one would know.

From the dark look Arch sends my way, I’m guessing he’s thinking the same exact thing.

I’ve been in that back storage room in the library only once in all the years I’ve gone here and lived on campus. Dad took me there when he had to drop off a couple of boxes and I was surprised at how large the room was. At one point it was a part of the library and was even used as a classroom, but eventually, they shut it down and kept it as storage. Something about the wall of windows being too distracting.

Sounds like an excuse but whatever. That expanse of windows is pretty impressive. It overlooks the entire gardens.

“Let’s go,” Arch says, his gaze only for me before it slides to Vivian. “We’ll be right back.”

“Don’t bother returning here if you can’t find any photos today. Take your time. You can look tomorrow if you need to, but we need those photos—at least a few of them—by Friday,” Vivian says, handing me a keychain with only a single key on it.

“Will do.” Arch salutes her and I roll my eyes, yelping when he grabs my hand and drags me out of the office along with him, never letting go of my hand the entire way as we walk across campus.

If he gives me nothing for my birthday—and I don’t expect him to give me a single thing, we barely know each other and my birthday is tomorrow—I will be satisfied with this. Him holding my hand and smiling at me, his fingers intertwined with mine.

This is more than enough.

It’s everything.