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"Just warning you, man. Newt's been talking smack all day," Emmett says as the waste of space lopes over with his paper sack lunch his mom still makes for him every morning.
"The guy's a creep."
Said creep falls into the chair across from me. "So, Cullen. What did she feel like?"
I turn my gaze away from the most frustrating girl I've ever met, proudly showing off her broken wrist, and glare at Newton. "What are you talking about?"
He chuckles, bites into his tuna sandwich, and talks with his mouth full. Nasty.
"When Swan took you down? Are they as soft and pillowy as they look?"
"Please tell me you aren't asking me if I took advantage of a girl while she was vulnerable."
Another chuckle.
The slimeball just shrugs and asks his question again.
"I don't know, asshole. I was too busy sliding around a vat's worth of ranch dressing and trying to make sure she didn't crack her head open."
Emmett sits back in his chair and cracks his knuckles. "I think it's time for you to go, Newt."
"But I'm not finished with my lunch."
The big bear reaches out and dumps his carton of milk all over Mike's food. "You're finished now."
Mike jumps back and grimaces. "That's disgusting."
"No, dude. You're disgusting. Get out of here."
Mike has the sense to leave before Em beats him to a pulp.
My eyes sweep across the lunchroom and zero in on her table. Bella Swan showed up a couple months ago, right before Thanksgiving break, and has been a thorn in my side ever since.
She invades my thoughts and more than a few of my impure dreams. It's been like this for months, but it got worse after last week's incident. Because of Bella Swan, I can't smell ranch without popping a boner.
Who knew culinary operations would be so … stimulating?