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I can feel sweat breaking out on my forehead. “You are irritating the shit out of me,” I glare. “Are you telling me no just to piss me off?”
He looks straight ahead, refusing to look me in the eye. “How much money do you need?” he says. “I’ll give it to you.”
My hands grip the chair until I think the wood will crack. If I don’t hold on, I’ll end up on the floor. “I don’t want your money!” I scoff. “I have no intention of owing you a damn thing.”
He faces me in a flash. “You won’t owe me. I don’t care if you never pay me back.”
“You don’t have to pay me off for saving your life,” I reply sullenly.
Pierce stands up, and his presence fills the small office. What the fuck? He keeps going off. “Don’t exaggerate,” he says, “You saved my ass, not my life.”
“You don’t know the Monarchs,” I grumble under my breath.
“Stay away from the Pit, Astrid.” He points his finger too close to my face. “It’s not the Monarchs or Stonehaven anymore. The people going there are filth.”
I jump to my feet so I can look him in the eye. Well, try. Pierce towers over me, but I don’t feel scared. It finally reaches through my hard head that he’s actually trying to protect me. Instead of using hands, he’s using his words. Trying desperately hard to convince me that I’m going to do something stupid.
I blink as I take a step back. “You’re not doing this to be a dick,” I reply, astonished.
His face relaxes as soon as he gets that I understand. “A month ago, I would’ve dragged you in there myself, but I wouldn’t go there, and I wouldn’t send my worst enemy in there either.”
“I’m flattered,” I smirk. “I’m your worst enemy?”
Pierce gives me a look that makes me wish I’d kept my mouth shut.
“You’re a challenge,” he replies, closing the distance between us. “I have no right to ask you for a favor, but I will anyway: stay away from the Pit.”
I sigh, looking into his intense blue eyes, bluer than mine, and wonder if mine blaze like that when I’m pissed. I look away first and stare at a broken statuette on Getz’s cluttered desk.
“I’m not surprised something broke in this chaos,” I say to him.
Pierce inhales, his posture relaxing as he sits down on the couch. “We didn’t call the cops on you. Think what you want, but we didn’t. Leister might have. Ted, not Justin.”
Pierce leans back, draping his long, lithe body across the old couch. He relaxes his head against the cushion as if we’re discussing our favorite song on social.
“I know. Wyatt told me. He wouldn’t lie.”
He doesn’t comment. His gaze connects with mine and softens, becoming thoughtful.
“You look used up,” he says. “You need to relax. Maybe get your hair done. You know, women stuff.”
I’m about to go off on his catty ass. I’ve been to hell and back so many times I can give bus tours. The words are about to fly out when Pierce pulls a joint out of his thigh pocket. I flop down on the couch beside him like a trained dog.
“Thank you.” I freeze and look at him. “You’re sharing, right?”
He nods, lighting it up. The ember glows in the dim light of the room, surrounded by our professor’s old dried-out books. He hands the joint to me, and I slip it between my lips. Pierce laughs as I slowly inhale.
“I like how you don’t even ask,” he says.
I frown at him a little while I hold it in. My eyes ask him what he means.
He imitates a scared, clueless girl. “Are we going to get in trouble? Maybe we shouldn’t do this? What if we get caught?” His voice trembles as he looks around, wide-eyed, and I lose my breath when I burst out laughing.
I shake my head, holding his joint. “You and me, we’re not friends,” I explain away this moment together. “I jumped in and saved your ass because I didn’t want to clean up your mess. Literally. You are the prince of assholery.”
Pierce smirks. “No, I’m the king. Your boy Bryce is the prince.”
My face flushes as I hand him back the joint. “He’s not my boy. He’s my sister’s man.”
