Sallie's POV
My lips twisted into an involuntary smirk as I took in Lionel's anxious face.
The concern etched across his features, the hushed murmurs rippling through the crowd, the troublemakers scurrying away like rats—it was textbook damsel-in-distress material.
Two years ago, back when I first walked through the gates of St. Chaim Reform Academy, I might've melted at Lionel's gallant rescue. Hell, I probably would've fallen head-over-heels, ready to trust him with my life. Now? The whole charade just made me want to laugh.
This pathetic little performance? I'd witnessed it countless times at St. Chaim. Each replay had taught me exactly how brutal the fallout could be when I bought into the act.
Lionel caught my faint smile and his own grin turned softer. "Hey, don't worry," he said, his voice like warm honey. "I'm not going anywhere. Nobody's gonna touch you."
A wave of breathy squeals erupted from the teenage girls clustered around us.
