Jia Li had been having a hell of a time for the last few days. Four days ago after that jerk whose name she still didn’t know had kissed her, she’d felt an overwhelming fury rise within her. She had allowed it to take over her body and mind, and she had slapped him hard across the face before she had left him alone. She hadn’t missed his flipping her off, but she had already been so furious that it hadn’t mattered.
The dryad had melted into the trees, running through them all over the place until she had finally begun to wind her energy down enough that she had felt it had been okay to go back to her dorm. Alissa hadn’t been there which had been fine. She hadn’t wanted to have to explain why she had been in such a disheveled, emotion state. She had gone straight to her room to lie on her bed and cry.
The anger had still been there, but her other emotions had begun to seep into her gut and into her mind. She had felt betrayed by herself and betrayed by him. Jia Li had relied on him to make his mocking comments toward her. She had relied on his verbal abuse and his making her feel like a jerk even when it was him who had been the asshole. Then, without warning, he’d crossed the line. His cruelty had moved from simply verbal to physical when he had kissed her.
It hadn’t been right. He had been so gentle and kind. He hadn’t crushed her to himself or hurt her mouth against his. His actions had awakened feelings inside her that had long been dormant. His touch had brought a pleasant fire anywhere it had laid. Even the whiskey she had tasted and had smelled from his breath hadn’t been so terrible. The dryad had wanted it, and she had wanted him, but then the pieces had begun to fall back into place.
He hadn’t wanted her. He had just been proving something to her, that he had been a good kisser, that he had been able to back up his end of a bet that had never seen fruition. Had he thought she had been a bad kisser? She hadn’t really been in her right mind, so she hadn’t done a lot more than lean into him a little and kiss him back lightly. He probably thought he’d proven to himself that she sucked, just as he’d predicted.
That hadn’t been all. He’d added injury to the insult by calling her a bitch right after declaring he’d only done it to make a point. He hadn’t liked her, and he hadn’t wanted her. He had probably thought her lips tasted bad and had probably laughed once he was by himself about how it had been so easy to get her to react positively toward him.
Why had she cared anyway? She hadn’t liked him. He had been nothing but a jerk to her since she’d met him. He had made her feel bad about herself again and again, and now he had crossed the point of no return by kissing her just because he could! So why had she still felt the agonizing pain that clenched her stomach no matter how many times she tried to tell herself what a terrible person he had been? She had still regretted hitting him. It hadn’t been like her, and she had felt she should apologize to him for that.