The Nerd Who Stole The Quarterback (Astra and Zayne) novel Chapter 30

Chapter 30

ZANE

I stepped out of the car slowly, slamming the door harder than necessary.

My eyes were locked on them.

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Jason had his arms around her waist, lifting her effortlessly, twirling her like she was some delicate fucking princess. Astra giggled, that soft, bright sound that made my blood boil and slapped his chest playfully.

She looked happy.

Too happy.

I stood there, jaw clenched, watching as he set her down but kept his hand on her for a second too long. Students were glancing their way, whispering. The sight made something ugly and violent uncoil in my chest then both turned and walked away.

Then Maya appeared out of nowhere, sliding her arm around my bicep like she always did, pressing her body against mine.

“Baby!” she cooed, voice sugary sweet. “There you are. I was looking for you everywhere and you didn’t call me back last night….”

Her touch felt like sandpaper on my skin.

I shrugged her off sharply, stepping away. “What?”

Maya blinked, surprised by the coldness in my voice. “I said… you didn’t call me back, we were supposed to….”

“I’m done.”

Maya froze. “What?”

I looked at her, really looked. The glossy hair, the perfect makeup, the way she always clung to me like a trophy. After what I heard in that video last night… the way she’d laughed while they held Astra down and called her a fat pig…

Her touch made me sick.

“We’re done,” I said louder, not caring who heard. “It’s over. Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Stay the fuck away from me.”

The schoolyard went dead quiet.

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Chapter 30.

Whispers erupted instantly Phones came out. Eyes widened in shock.

Maya’s face drained of color, “Zanes what the hell are you talking about? You can’t just…”

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“I just did.” I turned away from her without another word and walked toward the entrance.

I could feel everyone staring. Maya’s stunned silence behind me. The murmurs spreading like wildfire.

*Ashton just dumped Maya in the middle of the parking lot.*

*What the fuck happened?*

I didn’t care.

In homeroom, I dropped into the seat directly behind her like always.

She stiffened immediately, shoulders tense, but didn’t turn around.

I leaned forward slightly, close enough that I could smell her shampoo. My eyes dragged over the back of her neck, the curve of her shoulder, the way her uniform hugged her body.

She was addicting.

Even now, after everything I couldn’t stop watching her. The way she fidgeted with her slight tremble in her fingers. The way her blonde hair fell over one shoulder.

I wanted to lean in and bite that neck. Mark her so everyone knew.

The teacher droned on about some history bullshit. I didn’t hear a word,

All I could focus on was her.

Later, in Science Lab, the teacher started pairing people up for a dissection experiment.

“Hawthorne and Ashton,” he called out without looking up.

Astra’s head snapped up, her face went pale,

I smirked, grabbing my bag and moving to the empty lab station right beside her.

She looked like she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

pen. The

We sat down. The table was too fucking small. Our arms brushed when I leaned forward to look at the worksheet, and I felt her flinch.

Astra swallowed hard, her shaky hand reaching for the scalpel and tray. She was trying so hard to focus, eyes glued to the worksheet like it could save her.

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Chapter 30 —

Fleaned in closer, my breath brushing the shell of her ear, voice low and mocking,

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“You sure you can handle this, Trash–tra?” I murmured. “Or are you going to cry the second you have to cut into that frog

Her fingers tightened around the scalpel so–hard her knuckles went white. She kept her eyes locked on the pinned frog, voice barely above a whisper.

“I… I know what I’m doing.”

She didn’t sound confident at all. She sounded scared, that familiar tremble in her voice that always got me hard. Her cheeks were flushed pink, shoulders tense, the tip of the scalpel shaking slightly in her hand.

I smirked, watching her struggle to steady herself. The fear rolling off her only made me want to push harder.

This was going to be a very interesting class.

I leaned back slightly, but kept my arm close enough that it still brushed hers every time she moved. Her breathing was uneven. Good. I wanted her nervous. I wanted her thinking about me and only me while she was stuck here for the next hour.

The teacher droned on about proper dissection technique, but I wasn’t listening.

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All I could focus on was the way her thigh pressed against mine under the table. The way her chest rose and fell faster than normal. The sweet scent of her skin mixed with the sterile smell of the lab.

She was right there.

Terrified.

Soft.

And completely at my mercy for the next fifty minutes.

I couldn’t wait to see how long it would take before she cracked.

Most people were already cutting into their frogs. Astra’s hands were still trembling as she held the scalpel, staring at the pinned specimen like it might attack her.

I leaned in closer, my shoulder pressing firmly against hers, my thigh flush against her thick, soft one under the table.

“Scared of a little frog, Trash–tra?” I murmured, my breath brushing her ear. “Or are you just scared because I’m the one sitting next to you?”

She didn’t answer. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she made the first shaky incision. Her technique wasn’t terrible, she’d clearly studied but her hand kept trembling.

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30. 30.

Chapter 30-

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+puked up the probe and forceps, casually holding the skin open for her while she worked. Every ümne she moved, our arms brushed. Every time she breathed, I could smell her lavender shampoo and the sweet strawberry smell of her skin.

“Steady,” I whispered mockingly when the scalpel slipped. “You’re shaking so badly you’re going to butcher the poor thing.”

Astra swallowed hard. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” I rested my left hand on top of her thigh under the table, heavy, possessive, fingers digging into the plush flesh just above her knee. Not moving higher. Just… there. Reminding her I could.

She froze completely.

“Zane…” she breathed, so quiet it was almost silent.

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I smirked, eyes still on the frog like I was the perfect partner. “Keep cutting, President. Wouldn’t want the teacher to think you’re distracted.”

Her thigh trembled under my palm. She tried to focus, making another small cut while I held the specimen open with my right hand. The entire time, my left hand stayed on her leg, warm, heavy, unmoving.

I could feel her pulse racing through her skin.

The fear rolling off her was fucking delicious.

I told myself it was just to mess with her head. To remind her who she belonged to in this school. In my house. In my fucking world.

But the way her body reacted to even this small touch…

Fuck.

I hate her.

I really do.

So why the hell does touching her feel this good?