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“You’re going. I’m going. Let’s go.” Neil stands across the kitchen, his arms waving towards the door like he’s flagging the way out.
Moving to the fridge, I grab out some deli ham and sandwich fixings then resume my spot at the counter. “I’m good. Go without me.”
“What gives? Yesterday you said we’d go. Besides, it’s a Saint Juliet tradition, and I need my wingman—the freakin’ star QB of the mighty Wildcats.”
“Don’t remind me.” I focus on making my damn supper and forgetting all about what I’ve signed myself up for.
“Come one, Cade. Do you know what this could do for your social status? Mine too. We could actually have a decent senior year, and I won’t have to hide in the janitor’s closet during gym class.”
I turn to look at Neil. “You said they stopped fucking with you.”
His shocked expression tells me he just realized what he admitted because he’d told me they’d stopped tormenting him. Obviously, nothing has changed—as usual. He stutters over his words, clearly guilty of lying to me. “I-I meant— I-I just think… it could help up our social standing.”
“Who is it?”
“No one. Just humor me and let me live vicariously through your glamorous, elite senior year, please.”
“Yeah, fuckin’ glamorous.” Not buying the bullshit he’s selling. And if I had to guess, he avoided telling me after the last fight I got in with a blockhead… when Principal Thatcher threatened expulsion if it happened again. But I don’t give a fuck. I won’t stand by and let them fuck with one of the few decent people at that godforsaken academy solely because they can. “Tell me who it is and I’ll go tonight.”
Hesitating, he drops into the chair, his eyes falling to his hands that rest on the kitchen table. I sit across from him, and though he never looks to me, he says, “It doesn’t matter. This year will be different. It has to be.” His voice fades out, making me want to put my fist through whichever asshole’s face it is that’s made him feel like shit. And I have a good guess who.
“It’s Topher, right?”
“You can’t do anything.”
Answers that question. But I need details even though they’re usually painful to hear. “What’d he do?”
“It’s not a big deal. Just drop it. He’s not worth getting kicked out of school over, and I really want you around. If you do anything, you’ll get expelled but not a damn thing will happen to that dipshit.”
It’s the truth. Topher’s pampered ass will most definitely have his pretentious Daddy buy whoever’s necessary to keep his deviant kid on the team and in the school. “If he screws with you again, I want to know.”
Neil hesitates for a second before nodding. “I can take care of myself you know.”
“Yep. But you shouldn’t have to.” Topher has nearly a foot of height and a good eighty pounds on Neil. Which is a common trait for all the guys Topher and his buddies jack with. They taunt me from a distance, but never go brute and get physical with me. And the last time (that I was aware of) when he bucked up to Neil, it felt good to beat the shit out of him until two campus guards pulled me off.
“Okay. So, let’s go have a good time now. It’s the last year we can partake in the ritual.” Neil perks up, but I’m not sure why. The annual last-night-of-summer party in the cemetery next to the school is never anything but a bunch of asshats drinking and previewing which jerks intend to be this year’s alphas.
“Give me a few to change.” Regrettably, I finish up with my food and head to my bedroom. I don’t give a damn how I look, but I have to get this freaking T-shirt off. Because every time I register it rubbing against my skin, I feel Morgan’s fingers trailing down my skin.
Tossing the shirt on the dresser, I stand and watch the fabric, waiting for it to come to life and wrap around my neck to choke the life out of me. Irrational? Maybe. But if anyone holds the power to hex a piece of fabric to choke the soul out of somebody, it’d be Morgan King.
5
MORGAN
I knew he’d be here. All that talk about not liking Saint Juliet, not wanting to be around us “rich” snobs is him being angry he’s only a part of the elite crowd by default. And he always joins in on the fun.
I lean harder against the mausoleum, the stone wall biting into my back, as I watch him saunter down the walkway. The perk of him being brought to the top of my make-his-life-hell radar—the physical attraction is there. There’s no denying he’s more than fuckable. From his dark-brown hair and even darker brown eyes, to his strong body, that he definitely puts some effort into sculpting… all factors that would usually piss me off also appeal to me. What a waste for such an impeccable physical specimen to be possessed by the personality of an asshole. But now, maybe I can put him to good use. Every inch of him. He wasn’t that bad years ago, and I’m dying to know how much he’s improved. Or hasn’t.
He’s yet to spot me, talking to the other waste of space that is attached to his side every moment of the damn day. There used to be a time when we were inseparable. Now, our worlds couldn’t be further apart. Yet, those worlds are about to collide. Or maybe implode. We’ll see.
Shoving off the hard stone, I make my way to them, stopping in front of Cade. A sly smile stretches across my face as my eyes drop to the black polo shirt covering the delicious muscles beneath. Damn, maybe I should get some because drooling over Cade Crawford isnotallowed. Even if he was a good fuck, I shouldn’t be this curious to find out if he still is.
Plastering on my best smile, I trail my fingers down the front of his shirt and feel his solid abs under the soft fabric. “Are you gonna let me wear this one too?”
The muscles in his jaw tighten, his lips remain closed. I can absolutely work with that. The less he says, the better. But it’s his eyes falling to my chest that truly delights me. Maybe I envisioned what he’d think when I picked out the strapless maroon minidress… and from the twisted look covering his face, I picked well.
Turning my attention to his silent, stunned sidekick, I wrap him in a friendly hug. “I haven’t seen you all summer, Neil. How’ve you been?”
