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We set our trays on the table, but before I can take a seat, Kingston fists the hair at the nape of my neck and plants another searing kiss on my lips.
He’s full-on smiling when he pulls away, catching a glimpse of my likely dazed expression. “You’re mine, Jazz, and vice versa. I don’t give a fuck what label you use, it’s not going to change what this is.”
My face heats as I sink into my chair. I’m sure if I turned around right now, every set of eyes would be trained in our direction.
“O-kay then.”
I take a bite of my turkey club. I'm sure it's delicious because all the food here is, but my brain isn't communicating with my taste buds. It's too busy trying to convince my vag that I can’t mount the man next to me in front of all these people.
A piercing scream echoes from behind us. We all turn
around just in time to see Peyton shaking out of her fuckboy’s hold and stomping away. Not before she levels me with a withering glare, though. As Lucas Gale follows her like a lost puppy, he sends me an even harsher expression.
“Damn. What’d I do to get his panties in such a bunch?”
Bentley laughs. “That, baby girl, was jealousy rearing its ugly head.”
My brows scrunch in confusion. “Why would Lucas Gale be jealous of me?”
“Not you, per se,” Bentley says. “Your boy, and then you by association. That fucker has had a hard-on for the kings for as long as I can remember. He wants the power, and he knows he can't have it. No matter how far he crawls up Peyton's ass, the only way he'll ever be a king is if one of us steps down. His grandfather and father were kings. He should've been one, too, but there are only three from each graduating class. There's never been an exception, which is why Peyton’s attempt to expand the court is such a joke.”
“Why did you guys make the cut when Lucas didn’t?”
“Because our grandfathers were the three founding fathers,” Reed explains. “That trumps everything.”
I shake my head. “I still don’t get what the big deal is. You guys don’t seem to wield that much power.”
All three guys smirk. Even Ainsley joins in.
“What am I missing?” I ask Ainsley.
“You don’t see it, Jazz, because you’ve never given them the power over you from day one. You’d have to buy into the order for them to successfully reign. But here’s the thing: You may think it’s a bunch of bullshit, but everyone else at Windsor believes it’s the law. They’ve all been conditioned since their freshman orientation, maybe even before then.
“Even Headmaster Davis won’t reprimand them unless they break the no violence policy. Even then, as long as there aren’t too many witnesses, he’d turn his head. Same with the teachers. You don’t fuck with the royals, especially the kings. As sexist and antiquated as it is, if the court is ever divided, the ones with the dicks will always have the final word.”
“Well, that’s a bunch of crap,” I mutter.
“It is,” Ainsley agrees. “But, in this case, it might be a good thing. If someone didn’t have that power over Peyton, that girl would be even worse than she is. If you ask me, the boys are being too kind by ignoring her bullshit.”
“You know what, Ains,” Kingston says. “I think you’re right. I think they need a reminder of who’s really in charge, especially after the shit Peyton pulled with Jazz at the party.” He looks to Reed. “Headmaster Douche is out of the office for that boosters’ luncheon, right?”
Bentley grins. “I like where you’re going with this.”
“What are you going to do?” I ask Kingston.
Kingston smacks a quick kiss on my lips and stands. “Watch, baby.”
Reed and Bentley follow him as they walk toward the royals’ table. Peyton and Lucas are still missing, but the remaining six look terrified as the guys approach. I slam a hand over my mouth as Kingston sweeps his arm out, knocking three trays onto the floor at once.
Ainsley laughs. "Oh, shit. He's really going for a dramatic flair, isn't he?"
The entire room is frozen. Silent. You could legit hear a pin drop right now.
“What is he doing?” I whisper.
Kingston’s eyes flash to that Christian guy. “Clean that shit up.”
“Excuse me?” the guy balks.
