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Her face debuted in my dreams last night, and she was my first thought when I woke up this morning.
A vigorous hour and a half in my home gym did nothing to chase her from my mind. All I did was tire myself out and deepen my obsession.
I rule everything in Brighton Academy, but even I have my limits. The alliance between B4 is necessary but fragile.
Stealing my friend’s girl will destroy us.
I make a mental note to visit the infirmary later and see if I have a concussion. Maybe head trauma is why I’m so attracted to someone I never noticed before.
I fired the nurse last night, but her replacement should be arriving on the ferry today. The board had full authority to choose the next medical professional, with the condition that he’s male. I don’t need Barclay banging any more of the staff.
My hands fall into my pockets. Unable to resist, I seek out Shanel again.
She’s standing next to a brunette.
And she’s not smiling anymore.
Those dark brows are slanted together in pure concentration. Plump lips flatten. She leans slightly forward like a sprinter waiting for the gun to go off.
I take note of the determined expression on her face.
What are you up to, Speedy?
Suddenly, Shanel’s friend stumbles forward.
Moving on instinct, I swerve aside to keep from knocking into her. Her arms windmill and pale fingers squeeze the coffee cup in her grip.
The top pops.
Coffee explodes.
Grunts of pain follow the smack of bodies colliding.
I glance behind me and see Fitz with his arm around the girl, a grunt of surprise leaving his lips as the coffee drips down the front of his shirt.
“I’m so sorry!” Brunette gasps.
Fitz flicks at the stain on his sweater.
“I have no idea what happened.” Brunette is talking frantically. “I was just standing there and…”
“Forget it.” Fitz pulls at his sticky shirt.
“I’ll pay for that.” With trembling fingers, Brunette fumbles for her backpack. She unzips the front of it and pulls out a weathered wallet. “I’m sure a little dry cleaning—”
“It’s fine.”
Brunette’s lips tremble. “I’m really sorry. Really.”
“Ugh.” Barclay steps over the puddle of coffee, his nose scrunched. “What a mess.”
I turn to Shanel again and find her staring at Brunette and Fitz—not with horror, but with disappointment.
An inkling that she’d just tried to push her friend at me niggles in my chest.
I head her way.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” Shanel murmurs as I get closer. “Why didn’t it happen?”
