Page 21 of Wicked Lord

Axel’s bloodshot eyes lifted to mine. “You don’t have to do that, Battenberg. This is my mess.”

“Our mess,” said Killian. “We’ve got your back, brother.”

“You’ve all been drinking.” I pointed at the lot of them, each with a solo cup in hand, except for Slate. A silver flask poked out from his pocket. “I’ll take Kyle, I’m pretty much done with this party anyway.”

“You sure?” Axel’s weary gaze remained fixed to mine.

“Yeah, it’s cool. Just consider it payback for the boxes.”

“But you already took me for din—” He snapped his jaw closed before his lips formed the last word.

I didn’t blame him. I doubted Kill would love the idea of his best friend and me hanging out, no matter the reason.

“I got him, Axel. Just accept my offer before I take it back.” I shot him a smirk.

“Fine, thanks. I guess I owe you one.”

Exactly…

Two hours later, Kyle Hammond sat hunched over in the passenger’s side of my Mercedes with an ice pack pressed to his temple. He didn’t speak or even seemed to breathe in my direction. Before I’d taken him to the hospital, the guys must have threatened him with God knew what because when the police officer came to take his statement at the ER, he told the man he didn’t recognize the guy who’d beat him up. Kyle claimed it was some party crasher.

I always knew Killian and his frat brothers had powerful connections, but I knew better than to ask any specifics. That was how the world worked for the social elite and the so-called Lords of Stonewall University.

When I pulled up to the Sigma Delta house, the gleaming streetlight highlighted a piercing blue stare. Axel’s gaze lifted to mine from the front steps of the ancient, gothic manor. Kyle leapt out of the car before I shifted to park and darted around the back of the house, avoiding Axel altogether.

I killed the engine and walked around my car as the big guy ambled toward me, deep lines entrenched across his forehead and dark shadows lining the soft skin around his eyes. He ran his hand through the tumbles of dirty blond hair darkening his brow and heaved out a breath.

“Thanks for that.” He hitched his thumb over his shoulder at his fleeing frat brother.

Leaning against the side of my car, I waved a dismissive hand. “No problem. And anyway, what are you doing up so late? I thought you had an early practice tomorrow?”

He quirked a light brow. “How did you know that?”

“I may have overheard you and Cordi talking earlier.”

“Are you spying on me, Battenberg?” The ghost of a smile brightened the remnants of his scowl.

“Of course not. I was just waiting to catch you alone for a minute so we could talk.”

His eyebrows knit as he regarded me. “About what?”

“An arrangement that could get both of us exactly what we want.”

He folded his big arms across his chest and leaned against my car, broad shoulder brushing mine. “Oh, yeah? And what is it you desire, Lorelei Battenberg? I’m not sure I want to know what goes on in that twisted little head of yours.”

“Isn’t it obvious what we both want, Ax? You want Cordelia and I want out of this bullshit arranged marriage with Brock Haversham.”

“That prick hurt you, didn’t he?” His gaze turned absolutely murderous once again.

“No,” I muttered. “I just don’t want to marry him, okay? You’re right, he’s too old.”

His lips parted into a rueful smile. “So what’s this arrangement?”

“It’s simple. You didn’t see how Cordi acted the other day when I told her you and I were going out for dinner. She was totally jealous. Girls are stupid. They don’t know what they want until they can’t have it anymore.”

“So you want me to pretend to be into you?”

“Exactly.”