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“What happened to staying away from the Rogues?”
“I never agreed to that, Victor.”
He threw an irritated look at the spot Cato was standing. “Why would you even want to hang around them? You’re still giving me dirty looks for hooking up with someone after knowing you for three whole hours? Those guys sell their services to the highest bidder, but they’re cool? Are you going to keep up this twisted logic after we’re married?”
“Most likely.”
Victor pinched the bridge of his nose, turning up to the ceiling for help.
Cupping his cheeks, I brought him back down, making him meet my eye. “Have you considered that maybe the reason I won’t dump the Rogues is because if I do, I won’t have a single friend on this campus? Besides Katie,” I added. “Who only half counts since she bullies me in other ways.
“You may not get this because you fit in wherever you go, but it’s hard to get sneered at in every room you walk into. They’re nice to me, okay?” I dropped my hands. “So I’m not shaking them loose—even if it causes problems between us. If it does, that’s not a great sign. A good fiancé would care more about me being surrounded by good friends. Not how those friends affect his reputation.”
Something flashed across his face, too quick for me to pick it up. “Ever think it’s your reputation I’m worried about?”
I smiled to ease the tension. “I have considered that, and if it is the reason, I might have to call you the s-word. Which would be weird for me to say and you to hear.”
“What’s the s-word? Shithead? Because you’ve called me worse.”
“No, it’s sweet,” I cried, swatting his arm. “I would think it was sweet if you were looking out for me. Come on, Victor. I’m not that bad. I can give you credit when it’s due.”
He screwed up his face. “Uhhhh...”
“I can! Look, I gave you a hard time before, but it’s been nice you walking me to and from class, getting your demon friends off my back. And yesterday when I fell off the chair, you were all gallant rushing me to the infirmary and waiting while Nurse Gale checked me out. It was sweet,” I drew out, “and I appreciate it.”
“This is the end, isn’t it? This is the sign of the apocalypse.”
“Oh my goodness, you’re such an ass,” I groaned.
Victor breathed a sigh, face smoothing out. “Whew, good. You’re back.”
“Get out of the way.”
A hard shove propelled me at Victor. He caught me, arms encircling instinctively and pulling me in rather than back on my feet.
“Iris, what is your problem? Were you always like this, or did I miss your transformation into Saylor?”
I faced her as she sniffed. Two of her friends flanked her, readying for the showdown outside anthropology that nobody asked for today. “You wish you were a Burkhardt, then you wouldn’t worry about your mother forcing a bottom-barrel fiancée on you eight years early to wipe away the stink of getting a girl pregnant.”
A roaring sounded in my ears. Pregnant?
“—not true! I didn’t get anyone pregnant. June left to study abroad, not to have my kid, and she’s as fucking tired of those rumors as I am. Someone started it to take the Wilsons down, but that’s not going to happen, neither is it getting between me and my fiancée.”
“Aww, you sure about that? Because she looks upset.”
I swallowed hard, struggling to smooth out my expression.
“Did you not know about the youngest Wilson, or do you not even know what’s happening right now? You’ve got a blank, stupid expression on your face. Are you still messed up from that hit to the head, Rubber Duck Butt?”
I found my voice. “I am a little achy, thank you for asking. But luckily, I didn’t have as bad a fall as the one that fucked up your face, so I’ll recover.”
Iris’s friend snorted. She cut it off quick, slapping a hand over her mouth, but from the red-hot rage on Iris’s face, she wasn’t pleased.
“You’re not very smart, Sinclair. How many ways do we have to say it? We’re over our limit of gold-digging Dregs latching on to the first Royal dick they find to save them from the double-wide trailer in Duck Butt, Nebraska. You don’t belong here, so leave,” she gritted, erasing the distance. “Sooner or later, we’ll stop asking nicely.”
Victor moved between us. “Back off, Iris, and that is me asking nice. Find out from Thompkins, Thasher, Johnson, Madden, Brown, and Jones what happens if I ask again.”
“Victor, it’s okay.” I grasped his arm and draped it over my shoulder, smirking at the spark of anger in her eyes. “Iris is lashing out because her family is today’s headline, and the photo they used is not her best angle.”
