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“I’ll be right back,” I say to Shannon, who’s staring at me like I’m insane, and then I follow Killian out of the cafeteria and outside of the SAC.
He waits until we’re down the street a little before he speaks. “What do you want?”
I laugh at the absurdity of his question. “Are you kidding me? I want my car back. What else would I want from you?”
We enter an alleyway behind the business school, now free from onlookers. He steers me toward the brick wall of the building, leading me with his hand on my shoulder. “Can’t help you, princess.”
“Then why would you ask a dumb question? Until Saturday night, I wanted nothing from you.”
What a lie. I’ve had a crush on Killian since freshman orientation when he loaned me his pen. He probably doesn’t even remember me, but I never forgot him. And now, I like having this little bit of power over him.
He smirks, and it’s incredibly sexy the way the corner of his mouth turns up, a dimple in his right cheek creasing his tanned skin.
“I’m not going to tell anyone,” I add.
His smirk widens. “Bullshit. You want something. Otherwise, you’d have talked by now.”
“Well, I told my dad the car was stolen, and his lawyer forced me go down to the police station with him to make a report.”
His jaw clenches.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t tell them anything. My dad didn’t even care about the car. He has tons of them.”
“Must be nice.” He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets and shakes his head. “You had me mistaken for someone else.” He says this as if he can hypnotize me into believing a lie.
“I know what I saw,” I counter.
“You don’t know shit. I was at The Sixth Floor on Saturday night with my team. Anyone can tell you that.” He leans in so close I can feel his breath on my lips, feel the anger and fear radiating from him. “No one will ever believe you.”
“Are you willing to take that chance?”
I press my hand to his chest to push him back enough to create some much-needed distance. Being this close to Killian is doing things to my body I don’t want to happen.
“Everyone has a price,” he growls. “What’s yours?”
“You.” I can barely get the words out without feeling like a fool. “I want you.”
He laughs. “Why?”
“I don’t mean sexually,” I correct.
His eyes narrow in confusion. “You make no sense.”
“I want to know why you stole my car.”
He removes his hands from his pockets and steps back. “No, not gonna happen. I keep my life private for a reason. All you rich girls are the same. You think you can hold this over my head and force me to do whatever you want. Well, I hate to break it to you, but you will never get me, princess.”
Killian turns away from me, and I grab hold of his thick, muscular arm. Just feeling his skin sends chill down my spine causing the tiny hairs on my arms to stand at attention.
“I want to come with you next time. Take me with you.”
“Take you where?”
“When you steal someone else’s car.”
He laughs so hard it shakes through me. “No way. Are you fucking crazy? My life isn’t a game.”
“Please,” I plead, my eyes searching his.
“Is your life that boring you need to hang out with the guy from the wrong side of the tracks just to get your rocks off?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
From my mother to my sorority sisters, my life is planned down to the minute. Growing up with money and entitlement doesn’t equal experience and fun. I want to live for once, and I can tell that Killian can give me the rush I desire.
“One time.” He runs a hand through his dark hair, pushing it out of his eyes. “You can come with me to a race. That’s all you get, and then we’re done.”
“When?” My body is practically on fire from excitement.
“Saturday. Have you heard of Tony Luke’s?”
“The cheesesteak place?”
He nods.
“Yeah, what about it?”
“Meet me there on Saturday around nine, and keep your mouth shut. This stays between us.”
I hold out my hand as if this is a businesses deal. He stares at it for a second before he shakes my hand, creating a wave of heat that shoots down my arm.
“Until then, keep your distance,” he says, releasing my hand. “If your sorority sisters ask why I needed to talk to you, tell them we’re working on a project together.”
As of this morning, Killian is in my macroeconomics class. He strolled into class late, apparently because he switched classes before the drop period, and now he sits a few rows behind me with Jamie in the back of the auditorium. The project he’s making up doesn’t exist, and I doubt anyone will believe me. But it’s worth a shot because a few white lies get me closer to Killian.
