I want to think that, but when Connor tilts his head slightly, glancing up at the sky over our head, eyes darting to the rows of windows on the second story, I know better.
“Let me guess. The reason I can’t find her is because she went upstairs.”
“Maybe.”
Fuck. “With Desmond?”
Connor lifts his hand, scratching the back of his neck. “I was actually just talking to my good pal Des in the kitchen. But then I heard you were searching for something out back, and I only hoped it was me.”
He hoped wrong. “Who told you I was here?”
“Oh, sunshine,everyoneknows better than to hide the fact that you’re out here alone from me.”
I wrinkle my nose. I have no idea what that means, so I just say, “What’s with this ‘sunshine’ crap?”
Connor nods at my dress. “You can’t expect to wear such a pretty yellow dress and not get a new nickname.”
Connor and his nicknames. Yeah, I should’ve known better. He has this thing where he’d rather use any other name than the one a person prefers. Kind of like how Desmond has such a stick up his ass, hehasto be Desmond, so, of course, Connor shortens it to Des.
Seems like I’m ‘sunshine’ for now.
“Whatever. I need to find Loni.”
Before it’s too late.
Connor clicks his tongue. “Sorry. That’s a no-can-do. Loni is definitely occupied.”
She’s occupied. She’s upstairs. And she’s not with Desmond.
Shit. “Is she with Adrian?”
The tiniest hint of surprise crosses his features before he shrugs. That in and of itself is all the answer I need.
I huff out a breath. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Unfortunately, I know he’s not. And that right there is why I got dressed, drove here after suffering through the third degree from my mother about where I was going after dark, and went searching for Loni before she got herself into trouble.
Adrian. Of course she’s with Adrian.
He might be my supposed fiancé, but I've spent years watching Adrian Heller pretend that he hates my best friend. Years watching Loni act as though she didn't care. Years watching them look at each other when they think nobody is paying attention and seeing exactlyhowthey do it.
Nobody puts that much effort into hating somebody, not unless they're trying very hard not to admit that the truth of the matter is very different. And then, some time since senior year began, that hatred turned to something else entirely.
Loni might be ‘dating’ Desmond, but I know her. She’s in love with Adrian, and that can’t end well for either of them.
Especially if they’re on the second floor… I’ve heard stories. Rumors. When one of the future Owed grabs a girl at one of these parties, he’ll take her upstairs where he can get to know her better. They won’t ruin an Offering, but there are so many girls—like Lindy and her crew—who want to snag one of the higher-ranked members to better their own position in the society.
Not every woman in the society is an Offering. Not everyone is part of the Used, either; the society’s answer to legalized prostitution, it’s what happens to any Offering who gets ruined before they’re Claimed. Plenty are regular members living regular lives… but not me. Not Loni. And certainly not the King’s nephew.
They shouldn’t be up there, but it doesn’t occur to me to accuse Connor of making it up. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not a liar, and Loni… I know her well enough to accept that it wouldn’t have taken a lot of persuasion on Adrian’s part to get her alone.
And though I can’t quite explain why I say it, I point out to Connor, “Adrian is supposed to marry me after he’s branded into the Order, you know.”
In the next breath, something changes in Connor’s expression. He doesn’t lose his easy smile, even if the cornersof his mouth go tight. His eyes lose some of the warmth that’s usually there when he’s messing with me. Instead, he becomes another one of the cold, cruel Heirs as he makes his quick retort: “Yeah, and we both know that you’re not the one that Adrian really wants.”
Ouch. I mean, he’s right. I don’t want Adrian, either, but I also don’t want him to destroy Loni.
“Obviously—”
