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Bad enough to not want a repeat next weekend?
If we don’t have a repeat next weekend, I might die.
Baby, we can’t have that, he said. Another message came through, chasing the first. Make sure you rest that cute little ass of yours. I can’t wait till you’re in my bed again.
Loren’s smile grew, her face heating up at the thought of the coming weekend. Can we make a deal with Tempus and skip to Friday?
When she hit send, the message froze, a red exclamation mark appearing beside it. On the top corner of her screen, next to the name of her cell phone provider, it read NO SERVICE.
Clang! She jumped a foot in the air as her locker door suddenly slammed shut, the sound knifing into her eardrums.
A boy was leaning against her locker. Light brown hair that was cropped short, gray eyes, a splash of freckles on his nose. He was tall, his shoulders broad, his waist narrow, and his skin an ivory shade. She almost didn’t recognize him for a second, but then it dawned on her.
“Can I help you, Mister Stares A Lot?” She hung the strap of her book bag from her shoulder and crossed her arms.
“Any reason why you didn’t show the other day?”
Loren frowned. “What the heck are you talking about? Who are you, anyway?”
“Still haven’t figured it out?”
“You say that like I’m supposed to know, meanwhile you’ve literally been watching me like a creep for, like, three weeks now. Four? I’ve lost track. Honestly, what’s the deal?”
Mister Stares A Lot scoffed. “You ace your classes, yet you’re somehow dumb as a box of rocks. Makes me wonder if we’ve got the right girl.” Right girl? Was he sent here by some of his buddies to pull some sort of prank on her or something? Was he one of Ethan McIntyre’s newest recruits? She’d had enough of this.
She pushed up the sleeve of her cardigan and made a show of glancing at her bare wrist. “Gee, would you look at the time? I hate to cut this valuable conversation short, but I need to get going. Things to do, places to see. Thank you for the insults and all the staring. It’s been swell.” She gave him a lazy wave, but the moment they made eye contact again, she froze, making the connection that had eluded her only minutes ago.
She knew those eyes. The mouth that had a perpetual tilt to it, as if ready to sneer at the first opportunity. The shape of his nose and that sharp, angular jaw.
There was a pit in her stomach. “You’re the—”
“Imperator’s son, yeah,” he said, looking impressed for a moment that passed quickly. Something told her his attention span and his patience were both very short. He held out a hand. “Name’s Klay.”
Loren ignored it. She stared at his face, refusing to uncross her arms or break his gaze.
“Alright.” He let his hand fall against his thigh, a bitter laugh slicing the air. “I’ll go fuck myself, then.”
“I don’t fraternize with the enemy.”
“That’s big talk for a little girl. You sure you want to declare the imperator your enemy?” Even though he kept his voice low, Loren glanced about the hallway. No one was watching them, but still.
She said quietly, “Why don’t we chat outside?”
“We can chat when school’s out. You’ll be coming with me.”
Loren’s stomach dipped. “You mean you and…?” Him and the imperator.
“You got it, cupcake.”
“Ew,” she muttered under her breath. Cupcake. How revolting. “And what if I don’t want to?”
“Listen.” He stepped closer to her. Too close. He was tall, his presence looming. She didn’t want to look up, but she did, and she found that there was torment in his eyes. She didn’t trust it—didn’t trust him at all—but something told her that he didn’t want to be doing this. “You’re going to want to be there this time. Trust me. I’m not the enemy, Loren.” She didn’t miss the undercurrent to his words, the one that reaffirmed her suspicions that he had been sent to do this against his will, a puppet yanked about by strings he couldn’t cut.
Loren swallowed. “What does he want?”
“Just to check in.”
Her brows rose. “Aren’t you doing that for him right now?”
