Mr. Boyle is just doing his job

As James was held tightly by Penelope, he glanced over her shoulder and saw Mr. Boyle turn a corner at the far end of the hallway and vanish from sight.

“You know,” he began, his voice slightly muffled against her shoulder, “he’s just doing his job. And… we are running late for class without hall passes.”

Penelope let out a low, amused chuckle that vibrated through her toned body. She loosened her powerful embrace just enough to pull back slightly, sliding her hands up to rest firmly on his shoulders so she could hold his full attention on her face.

“Do I look like the kind of girl who cares about hall passes or class attendance?” she asked, one perfectly arched eyebrow raised in teasing challenge.

James looked up at her properly.

She was stunning in that dangerous, rebellious way he had wished for. Long, silky black hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. Heavy smoky eyeshadow made her gaze intense and sultry. Her lips were painted a deep, glossy red that looked incredibly inviting.

Multiple layered silver necklaces rested against her elegant collarbone, drawing the eye downward to the cropped black t-shirt stretched tightly across her round, perky breasts. Bold white text across the chest read **** BEFORE DISHONOR above a skull-and-crossbones graphic. The shirt ended high enough to reveal a set of impressively toned, feminine abs.

Her black leather biker jacket hugged her athletic yet curvaceous frame perfectly, worn and scuffed in all the right places for that effortless edge. A wide studded belt sat low on her wide hips, accentuating her dramatic hourglass figure.

Tight, ripped black skinny jeans clung to her long, shapely legs and thick, perky ass, the strategic tears showing flashes of smooth skin. Heavy black combat boots with thick soles completed the look, making her appear tall, powerful, and completely untouchable.

She looked exactly like the kind of girl who didn’t take shit from anyone — confident, edgy, and one hundred percent in control.

“No,” James admitted, a small, shy smile finally breaking through. “You really don’t.”

“Don’t sound so glum,” Penelope drawled, her voice low and warm with affection. She pulled him back into another firm hug, one hand sliding up to gently cradle the back of his head. “Live a little. Relax a little. As long as you’re with me… you’ll be fine.”

She held him close for a long moment, her chin resting lightly on top of his head, radiating a protective, almost possessive warmth. The chaotic noise of the school hallway faded into the background around them.

James closed his eyes and let himself lean into her. For the first time since he had found the Reality Stone, the heavy knot of anxiety in his chest finally started to loosen.

The stone was still safe in his pocket… but right now, with Penelope holding him like this, the rest of the world felt strangely far away.

Still, he had been given the choice attend class or skip it?