Most girls in school—because it’s not just Lindy, either—think that Connor is charming. Most parents think that he's respectful. Most teachers think he's destined for greatness despite his… quirks, and with a last name that belonged to one of the men who founded Harmony Heights two centuries ago, that’s a given.
Still, most people are idiots. Not me. I’ve seen hints of the real Connor when he thinks nobody is looking. I’ve noticed when the flirtatiousness and the teases fade, when there are flashes of something cold—somethingdangerous—lurking beneath all that easy confidence. It doesn’t hurt that, even as he grins, he’s fiddling with a pocketknife almost like it’s an extension of his hand.
No one seems to notice that. The boy-next-door act seems to fool everyone else—except for me.
Whenever Connor is near, my back goes right up. It always has. I’ve never been able to shake the feeling that he can see the real Haven, too, and he gets a kick out of fucking with her.
I don’t have time for that tonight. And, yet, instead of brushing Connor off and heading inside, I can’t help but glance up at him and demand, “What are you doing out here?”
The snide voice inside of me almost adds:Looking for Lindy Watkins? Considering she targeted Connor most of senior year, really making an effort once it became obvious that Dallas Collins was clearly anoand Desmond St. James had his eyes on another Offering, I would’ve expected Connor would be thrilled to go skinny-dipping with the bubbly cheerleader.
I mean, anyone with a dick, an attraction to a female body, and a pulse would be, right?
But while I glimpse over at the pool, flexing my fingers when I notice that Lindy’s zeroed in on Connor, watching him like a tiger stalking its prey, a quick peek back at Connor reveals that he’s watching me closely.
“Me? Someone inside told me they saw you heading out back. I couldn’t leave you alone with all this riffraff. Not you, Miss Smith.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m fine.” And I fuckinghatebeing coddled just because the accident of my birth means that being a Smith in Harmony Heights comes with all these damn rules and expectations.
His lazy grin quirks up a little as his eyes dip down. “Hell yeah you are.”
I don’t know what he’s looking at. My parents would never let me out of the house in anything other than a cutesy, demure sundress no matter how much I itch to throw on a pair of jeans to go out in public. I can’t even store a change of clothes in the backseat of my beamer since Dad has one of his employees check the car—whoops, I meandetailit every couple of days. Even if I managed to outsmart them, the Order has eyes everywhere. When you’re basically considered property, what you want doesn’t matter. For now, I belong to Mr. and Mrs. Roger Smith. If the Order has it its way, I’ll be passed over to Adrian Heller during the August ceremony. I learned long ago it’s not worth it to fight my predetermined destiny; I’ll fight my battles, but only when I know I have a chance at succeeding. I’m not going to win this one, and the most I can do is ignore the way that it doesn’t seem like any of my future will belong to me.
There has to be a way to change it. For my sake… for that of my best friend… I can’t marry the King’s nephew. I sure as hell don’t want to, and when one of Adrian’s closest friends eyeballs the little bit of cleavage I have before letting his gaze travel down the length of my lower legs… he’s fucking with me again. He’s gotta be.
He usually is.
I don’t know why Connor gets his kicks picking on me. Probably for the same reason that Adrian’s been Loni’s biggestbully since kindergarten; another of the countless reasons why my stomach sinks to my dainty fucking sandals whenever I think that I’ll have to let him touch me one day. Still, if there’s a single person in Harmony Heights that I don’t have to put on my prim and proper Offering act for, it’s Connor Heyward.
Just like how I can see the real him behind the charming mask, he can see the girl I wish I could be—mainly because I lost my patience with his smirks and his winks and his ability to push every last button I have back when we were in middle school. Years later, I’m nottheHaven Smith whenever he pops up to bother me. I’m not the pristine Offering whose only worth is in her name and her virginity. I’mme, and if that makes these run-ins not as annoying as they used to be… well, I only have two months left before the Order makes me someone else.
Unless—
I shake my head, acting as though I don’t notice the way his dark eyes are drawn to my chest. It’s Connor. He talks a big game, but he’s basically harmless. He flirts with everyone, and I’m not any special just because I don’t fall for it.
Because I don’t.
Because Ican’t.
“You’re looking good. I know Bas said he was making this an open invitation kind of shindig, but I didn’t get my hopes up. Never thought you’d come slum with the likes of us.” He takes his eyes off my boobs long enough to glance at my hands. “You don’t have a drink. Let me go get you one.”
“Trying to get me drunk?”
He laughs. “It’ll take a lot more than a single drink to loosen you up enough to do what I have in mind.”
As if I believe that. Besides, he knows better to even joke about that. Guys in Harmony Heights might be able to sleep with whoever they want, but until there’s a wedding ring on myfinger, I’m not allowed to let anyone touch me in the way that Connor is implying.
And, no, last summer’s fling with Jason Michaels doesn’t count. Everything we did was over the clothes, and though I might’ve lost my head and let him go even further, he left Harmony Heights—and me—before it got that far.
That’s what happens in a town like ours. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t from here, or that he was only visiting for the summer. As far as Jack Collins is concerned, I’m spoken for. I’m meant for his nephew, and though I don’t know for sure, I’d put down all the money in my trust that Jack got wind of my relationship and put an end to it.
Since then, I’ve bided my time, hoping that Adrian finds the balls to stop the facade that he’ll actually marry me, and I can find one of the Owed I might actually be able to stomach marrying. I know I’m not getting out of an arranged marriage. To do so would be to leave Harmony Heights, to abandon my parents and Loni, and the life I’ve always known.
That’s something else I can’t do, and a reminder why I drove out to Bas Reynolds’s house in the first place.
“I’m not here for jokes, Connor. I’m here for my friend. Have you seen Loni?"
Someone has to save her from her bad decisions, and since we were kids, that’s been me. I want to think that she’s learned her lesson, that since she’s been openly dating Desmond St. James—another of the Heirs, and the one that, rumors run, is going to Claim Loni during August’s ceremony—she would know better than to risk her future as an Owed on a mistake.
