This day just keeps getting better and better.
And the cherry on top is Camden Whittier among our new company who, ironically, is wittier than no one in the entire history of human life. How he plays football—as the quarterback, no less, which I’m guessing means he has to remember how to do more than one thing at a time—has always baffled me.
Camden pushes his way through the crowd to stop directly in front of Kingston. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the new guy in town I’ve been hearing so much about. Why the fuck you here scammin’ on high-school pussy?” He doesn’t give Kingston a chance to reply. “I’m Camden Whittier, quarterback. But I’m sure you’ve heard all about me too.”
Like I said, high-school students really shouldn’t be allowed to speak—or at the very least, not without running their words by someone with a fully functioning brain first.
“Can’t say I have,” Kingston responds, and actual gasps are audible from the cheerleader section.
Are they gasping in shock because someone dareth talk down to their king? Or in hormonal fascination that someone taller, broader in the shoulders, and undeniably more handsome dareth talk down to their king?
Fortunately, I’ve never tuned in to their wavelength, so my jury will be out for a while on this mystery. But I’m betting on the latter.
Camden laughs it off, then runs shameless eyes over the length of me. “Yeah, guess I’d be busy too if I was living with Echo. They don’t make ‘em like that every day.” He licks his bottom lip and holds out a fist for Kingston to bump, which he doesn’t.
Camden lets his hand drop, trying to act nonchalant but failing. “Now that big bro’s away, maybe sweet lil’ Echo will finally come out to play.”
And people wonder why I’m anti-social.
I’m dangerously close to throwing up when Kingston moves to block me from Camden’s view. He takes a step forward and I peek around him, afraid of what I’ll see yet dying to look.
“Sod off, motherfucker, unless you want your arse kicked,” Kingston growls, an inch from Camden’s face. “I’d be happy to sort that out for you.”
“Yeah, Camden!” Savannah chimes in. “If I tell Sebastian what you just said, he’ll kill you when he gets back!”
I give Savannah a grateful smile, then turn to flee the scene as quickly as possible—only to discover there’s no room to escape. I just want to skip lunch, since it’s almost over anyway, and grab the books for my next class from my locker.
Somehow, despite my anxiety from the mosh pit I’m trapped in, I register a few more snarled, antagonistic words exchanged between Kingston and Camden before the latter storms away. But the pom-pom brigade remains, solidifying just how magnetic Kingston really is. Because any other time, they’d all be scurrying to follow the king of Kelly Springs High.
And just like that, my jury has reached a verdict. That was fast.
Chapter 5
Kingston coats his next words in spun sugar as he kisses each of the cheerleaders’ hands. “Such a lovely welcome. Thank you, my tartlets.”
They actually giggle, blush, and coo, thinking he’s just complimented them. But I actually know what “tartlet,” or “tart,” means in Kingston’s tongue, and enjoy an inside laugh.
Now that the crowd has thinned some, I pivot and start to walk the wrong way down the hall, writing off the books I need as a lost cause. I’ll just cut through the lobby, and maybe borrow a piece of paper and pen from someone in class.
But a hand that shouldn’t already feel so familiar catches my elbow. Somehow, Kingston has ditched his fan club and is dragging me toward a quiet corner.
“Are you all right?”
“Fine,” I grind out past gritted teeth. “I just want to get to class, so let go of me please.”
He releases his hold. “You need to eat first. I’ll walk you.”
“No need. Lunch break’s almost over.” I bolt away now that he’s unhanded me, but he easily matches my quick stride.
“What happened back there, with that mouthy tosser? You said nothing—not at all like the Echo I thought I knew.”
I stop dead in my tracks, and get a bit dizzy from how quickly I whirl around to face him.
“That’s just it: You don’t know me. If you did, you’d know I like to keep to myself and be left alone. So please, until the shiny newness wears off you—if it ever does—stay away from me. Or at least stay away from my school! I don’t want to get caught up in your swarm again.”
“My apologies. I only wanted to say hello. I had no idea that would happen. But that bloke, the quarterback? There’ll be more like him looming about now that Sebastian’s away. You’ve lost the plot if you think I’m going to stand for it, Echo. I may not attend school with you, but I’ll set about having eyes and ears everywhere.”
“No, you won’t, and it’s completely unnecessary. No one has ever, and won’t ever, notice me if you just keep your distance. You’re the attraction, Kingston, not me. So stay away. I’m begging you.”
He runs a hand through his thick, dark hair, somehow making it look even better, then laughs softly. “Do you honestly believe a word you just said?”
Screw it. I’ve already missed lunch, and I’m sure I’ll be late to class—for the first time in my life—so I figure I have nothing more to lose by continuing this conversation.
“I don’t make a habit of talking just to talk, so yes, I do believe it. Why?”
Kingston’s not stupid, nor is he oblivious to the attention he draws, so his question and puzzled look truly have me just as confused as he appears to be.
“Let’s see if I can explain this without cocking it up.”
He lays his right hand on my left arm and gives it a very subtle, friendly squeeze that I probably shouldn’t feel in my toes—or over every other inch of my body, like an eruption of volcanic heat. But I do, and it’s intense yet simultaneously soothing.
“Echo, you haven’t gone one day in this school unnoticed. You’re gorgeous, tall, fit as fuck, and not on the pull. That cute haircut, dark and sassy, and your huge blue eyes? Every guy in this place dreams about shagging you—they were just too afraid of Sebastian to make a move. And I plan to make bloody sure they’re every bit as afraid of me.”
Other than “not on the pull,” I understand everything he just said…which is why I currently feel the heat of my whole face blushing.
“Ah, so I did say it right,” he whispers, lifting his hand to run a fingertip down my cheek. “Even more stunning with a blush.”
The loud shrill of the warning bell rings out, causing us both to jolt. Thank God. He almost had me hooked in that web he was weaving. Almost.
“I have to go.” I walk away, backwards. “And you need to go back to your school…where I might be seeing you later.”
Can’t wait to see how that goes.
~~~~~
I’m proud to have earned a spot in AP Calculus, because I worked damn hard for the placement. But the fact that the class is held at the college has my nerves on edge—especially now, in light of recent events…and new, international visitors. Luckily, I’m still Sebastian’s little sister, so I’m hoping most of the people here will know that and, in turn, leave me alone. Plus, I have Savannah at my side.
At least, I did when I parked my truck. By the time I turn the ignition off, my seatbelt not yet unbuckled, she’s already out of the vehicle, yelling about spotting some friends.
Of course.
Having expected as much, I simply shake my head, brushing off the slight pang from her abandonment. Unlike Savannah, I take my sweet time getting out, not one bit interested in racing behind her to chitchat with a bunch of girls I barely recognize.
I’ve visited the campus once or twice in the past, but as I walk up the cobblestone path now, I feel my stomach roll. With lead feet and my head bowed, eyes trained on every step, I finally reach the classroom.
I’ll admit, I knew the odds of a run-in with Kingston—at this school—were high. It’s a s
mall campus. But I was hoping for some sort of a grace period…that lasted longer than this.
As soon as I open the classroom door, any optimism I’d been desperately clinging to dies a fast death, flat-lining before I even have a chance to survey the students inside. But I don’t need to. The chorus of giggles, followed by that potent accent, stretch across the room and make it perfectly clear Ms. Grace Period is indeed a sneaky bitch—and she’s impatient today.
I quickly spot an open seat in the very back row and scurry toward it, subtly scanning the room for Savannah but unable to keep my eyes from falling on Kingston. And apparently, I’m not much of a subtle “scurrier,” because he’s already staring directly at me.
“Hi,” I force out when our gazes lock. I even give a pathetic nod before ducking my head and sliding down in my seat.
I expect him to reply, but he doesn’t. He does, however, attempt to wave, barely able to lift his arm since he’s surrounded by literally every female in the room—besides me, and whom I assume to be the professor’s aide, although her eyes are glued on him.
Savannah’s high-pitched laughter drowns out the rest of the gaggle, and I notice her hand is resting a little too comfortably on Kingston’s arm.
Are you kidding me? Savannah’s only in this college course because I did her work to get her here. And why? Because she didn’t want me to be alone—which is exactly what I am.
I pull a notebook and pen from my bag, take a deep and calming breath, and sit back, anxious for the professor to arrive and get things underway.
But my eyes again find themselves tangled with a pair of metal-gray ones. Kingston’s turned toward me…and is that a sympathetic, half-smile he’s wearing? Don’t feel sorry for me, buddy. I’ll soon have the highest grade in this class, and plenty of room to stretch out back here, should I choose to do so.
My spine stiffens, eyes bulging as I watch him stand, giving all his groupies a farewell smile as he makes his way to me.
No. No, no, no!
I drop my gaze, focusing intently on my notebook, and start doodling. But I feel his presence the instant he slides down in the chair in front of me. I don’t look up, my grip tightening on my pen.
And suddenly it’s pandemonium, all surrounding seats being filled with yapping girls asking asinine questions about London and the Queen. As if he’s met her. He’s just a normal, everyday student, like the rest of us!
Okay, maybe not just like the rest of us. His voice alone is one of a kind.
“Hello, Echo.”
His breath whispers over my forehead, and I can’t stop myself from looking up. His face is inches from mine, his body completely turned and leaning my way.
“I already said hi,” I mutter before quickly returning to my squiggly lines.
“Yes, you did, but I was unable to give you the proper greeting in return.” The playfulness in his voice only causes me to scribble faster.
“So, did you really party with the Prince?” someone asks.
“Oh my God, I heard your family is royalty! Is that true?” another tart butts in.
He ignores them both, his hand coming into view right as a single finger lifts my chin, forcing me to look at him once again. “You have my full attention now, so…hello, Love.”
I swallow, unable to grasp exactly what the pounding in my every vein means.
Hello, I manage to mouth.
Our gazes never sway from one another, not even a blink exchanged between us, until Savannah asks, “Is it true? Are you royalty, Kingston?”
I break eye contact first, and find room among the group for some unsubtle sarcasm. It’s the least I can do, considering he did bring an unwanted spectacle to my locker and dig through my underwear drawer!
“Wow, royalty?” I bat my lashes exaggeratedly. “Can you pencil me in for a high tea later?” I give him a tight, irritated grin, then focus back on my notebook.
His silent stare lingers; I can feel its heat radiating into me. When a chair squeaks, I glance up to see he’s already turned back around in his seat to finally answer Savannah.
“No, not as far as I’m aware.”
A moment later, the professor arrives. She instantly demands everyone settle down and leave the new foreign exchange student alone.
Unsurprisingly, not many listen to her instruction. Throughout the entire class, my attention is constantly diverted from learning to the whispers around me, all about Kingston. Most of them are orchestrated by none other than my own best friend, who couldn’t care less about acing the class. Oh, and is dating my brother!
By the time we’re dismissed, my annoyance has reached an all-time high. Savannah had ignored my many signals that I was ready to leave, so I left without her.
I drive away from the college alone, giving less than a single damn whether Savannah and Kingston were able to procure a ride.
Chapter 6
By the time I race home from school, change into leggings and a sports bra, then dart even faster through our woods to my tree, I’m completely riddled with guilt. I’ve never acted like the bitch I did today. But then again, I’ve also never had my patience absolutely obliterated.
And that is how I’m justifying leaving Savannah and Kingston stranded.
I grab the two strands of silky pink fabric tied securely to one of the tree branches and start to climb, needing to lose myself in my secret spot and routine. Silk dancing is my favorite—a solo act in which I’m the choreographer, the performer, and totally at peace.
But today, the images of Kingston, with his contagious smile and riveting words, run in a constant loop through my mind. If I’m being honest with myself, I did act like a stubborn bitch. It isn’t his fault he’s the new attraction—a superficial fascination for most of the town—any more than it would be Sebastian’s for all the attention I’ve no doubt he’s getting at his new place.
I close my eyes, focusing on each glide of the delicate fabric through my hands and the familiar feeling of it wrapping around my body in artistic comfort. And almost instantly, all else ceases to exist. The music I’ve picked for this routine begins to play in my head, overpowering the musings of Kingston. I spin my body, twisting my legs and using the satiny strands to ascend, then descend, in a series of tedious flips.
I dance in the air as though I’m an extended limb of the giant tree, swaying in the wind, until the muscles in my arms and legs beg for a reprieve. I slide down until my feet safely touch the ground, grabbing the towel I’d brought along to wipe my face.
His reverent praise comes out of nowhere.
“Magnificent.”
Caught off guard, I drop my towel with a squeal.
“How did you find me?” I yell accusatorially. “This is my place—where I go to be alone!”
“Is that so?” His raspy taunt wraps around me as he steps out from the shadow of the tree he’d hidden behind to spy.
“Yes!”
“But you do enjoy knowing I was watching,” he murmurs, moving closer. “Admit it.”
“No, I don’t!”
His flirty grin broadens, becoming a smirk as I argue my half-truth. I can feel my cheeks heat. Again.
“Lying doesn’t become you, Echo. And you’re terrible at it.”
I growl, rolling the tension out of my neck. “I’m not lying, you presumptuous, infuriating—”
“So you aren’t turned on, knowing I was here—that I watched you, and found you to be absolutely mesmerizing?” He lifts one brow, a provoking glint in his steely eyes.
My breathing hitches, and I struggle to recover quickly. “Not even a little bit.” I strive to keep the nerves from my voice; luckily, my anger comes out sounding more like strength.
He takes another step closer, his penetrating gaze holding my own prisoner. “There are some truths you can’t hide.” He dips his head, slowly lowering his eyes to my chest.
I peer down to where his stare is fixed. Sure enough, not only are my nipples hard, but they’re poking shamefully against the thin
material of my sports bra.
“Stop looking!” I whip around and sprint to my T-shirt lying a few feet away.
His heady chuckle mocks me as I fight the material over my head. “Oh, but I can’t. You see, I adore the bottoms too. Beautiful arse, Love.”
Jesus. I don’t have anything else to put on! So my only choice is to face him once again, my breasts now somewhat concealed and therefore the lesser of two evils.
My eyes close momentarily on my deep sigh. “Okay. I’m sorry I was rude at school today and didn’t offer you a ride home. Now can you just stop being so mean?” I despise the vulnerability tinging every syllable, but I’ve never felt more exposed—literally and figuratively.
He steps farther into my space, his brows dipping as his smile is instantly replaced by a perplexed frown. “You, my darling Echo, are truly an enigma. I tell you how exceptional you are—your body, your movements—and you think I’m being cruel? I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to understand anything, except that I’d like for you to stop doing it. Your vulgar remarks and observations about my body make me…uncomfortable. And any attention at my school, and especially the college, makes my skin crawl.”
He doesn’t speak, so I continue, the tautness in my shoulders subsiding more with each word of release. “Look, this is the one spot where I feel at ease. And whether you meant to or not, you invaded it.”
I snag my towel off the ground and turn toward the trail that leads back through the woods, even more flustered now than when I got here.
“Wait.”
He catches me by the arm and spins me to face him. “My apologies. I won’t come out here again, and I’ll try to keep my compliments to myself. It’s just so bloody hard. I know I’m making a shambles of trying to get to know you, Echo, but that’s all I want to do: get to know the breath of fresh air that lives but a room away. How about we call a truce?”
Filthy Foreign Exchange Page 4
