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Seriously, what is it with this guy and him being able to make me smile so easily.
“I give compliments occasionally,” I say.
“Yeah, but you seem like a hard girl to win over, so it kind of feels like, I don’t know, an honor or something.”
“It is. But being a hard girl to win over isn’t a bad thing.”
“I know. But you need to let people win you over sometimes; or else, how are people supposed to get to know you?”
I frown. “Sometimes it’s easier not to.”
He pauses for a beat. “You sound a lot like my brother.”
“Which one?”
“Blaise.” He searches my eyes. “Was that the answer you were hoping for or not? I can’t tell.”
Shrugging, I relax back in my seat. “There could be worse answers, I guess.”
He chuckles softly, but his laughter hastily fades as he sneaks a glance around the room. Then he lowers his voice. “How did it go this morning with Blaise? He hasn’t texted me yet. Did he make it to school?”
Remembering how Blaise mentioned his siblings not knowing how bad Alex has gotten, I decide to be as vague as possible. “This morning went okay. We picked up Alex, got gas and stuff, then he dropped me off at my car. He didn’t come to school, though. Said he has some stuff to do or something.”
“Oh.” His lips thin as he presses them together. “Alex was okay, though?”
“He seemed okay,” I lie again, wishing I asked Blaise what I was supposed to tell everyone this morning. It’s the first rule of telling a believable lie: make sure your stories line up. “I actually didn’t talk to him too much. Alex, I mean. In case you haven’t heard, he’s not a huge fan of me.” The last part comes off teasing.
Sometimes I’m such a fantastic liar that I freak myself out. I didn’t used to be this way. Before my mom died, I cried every time I tried to lie. My parents used to laugh at me, saying I was going to turn into the most honest person in the world with how terrible of a liar I was. And look at me now. I can lie without missing a beat and rarely does anyone get to know the real me.
Rhyland sighs. “He does seem to have some sort of vendetta against you, doesn’t he? That’s just Alex. All of us Portersons have our one quirk that rubs people the wrong way.”
“Just one?” I question with a smirk.
He chuckles, his eyes crinkling around the corners. “Okay, maybe we have more, but not all of them are completely bad.” He rests his arms on top of my desk and leans in toward me. “We have good traits, too.”
I toss a glance at the people openly staring at us. “And are people staring at us because of your good traits or your bad ones?”
He peers around the room, his mouth curving downward as his eyes land back on me. “It’s probably because of both.” He fiddles with a leather band on his wrist. “Some people fear us because of our last name. Some people want us because of who we are. Honestly, either way, we have a hard time trusting people. It’s why Jaxon barely talks to anyone, why we don’t have any close friends, why we rarely date.”
A soft laugh escapes me. “I have a hard time believing the last one.”
When his gaze lifts to mine, curiosity sparkles in his eyes. “Why not?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because everything about all of you—well, except for maybe Jaxon—screams player.”
He presses his hand to his chest, mocking offense. “I am so not a player. I barely flirt with anyone.”
“Liar. You flirt with me all the time.” Despite my seriousness, I’m on the verge of laughing.
“I mildly flirt with you,” he corrects, grinning.
“Liar,” I tease. “All you do is flirt. And Blaise has flirted with me too. From the moment we met and he tried to hit on me. But seriously, he has the worst moves ever. How he’s ever gotten a date is beyond me.” Okay, maybe he’s not totally bad.
I mean, the sucking-on-my-neck thing felt pretty damn good. And I did see a sweeter side to him today.
Rhyland suddenly barks out a laugh, causing even more people to stare at us. “Jesus, you’re amusing,” he says through his laughter.
As the bell rings and the teacher starts to call roll, I slant forward and whisper, “Why’s that so funny?”
