“Wow. Wait. What? Did I miss something?” Sputtering and shaking her head in awe, Sunday stares at me with a grin to rival the Cheshire Cat’s.
Shit. Fuck. Shitfuck.
“So, uh, yeah.” I try to play it cool. “Do you happen to know that guy’s name? The tall one?” I grit my teeth, willing the heat in my lower belly to dissipate.
“Oh, ‘the tall one’, huh?” She says with air quotes and a snicker. “That, my shiny new friend, was your cardinal sin.” Quickly she closes the distance between us, loops her arm through mine, and practically skips us outside. “The one and only Poe Halliday. Rich, enigmatic, and sexy as hell.” She slips on her pink tortoiseshell Maui Jim’s as we step into the late afternoon sunshine. “Also, the object of Hali’s lust, which is why when he winked at you this morning, you became numero uno on her hit list, you bad girl.” She wags her finger playfully at me, then shrugs. “He hasn’t so much as sneezed in her direction in three years, but that hasn’t dampened the torch she carries for him. Poe and his boys rule the school and the town.”
“Well, that’s fucking fantastic, isn’t it?” I mutter. “I’ve been here one day, and I’m already the target of the Queen Bitch.” Spotting the Caddy with Spry behind the wheel, I give Sunday a tired smile and pull my arm free, telling her I’ll see her tomorrow and escaping before she has a chance to comment further. The cocoon of the car’s backseat a welcome retreat, I gratefully sink into the luxurious comfort with a sigh.
“Rough first day, Stella?” Spry’s sympathetic eyes meet mine as he glances over his shoulder.
“I’m pretty sure I have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into, Spry.” Breaking contact, I close my eyes, jam my earbuds in, and lose myself in the music.
Chapter Six
When I see her dancing on the aisle stairs, her glossy raven hair a stark contrast against Sunday’s silvery blonde, I shoot her a sly wink and wonder who she is and how long it’ll take me to get into her pants.
It’s not until she throws her head back and laughs with abandon that my blood sings with recognition, and I almost trip over Heller in my surprise. My recovery is quick, but I can tell, at least for a brief minute, my shock is written clearly on my face. I see the same expression mirrored on her beautiful features, followed by a slight blush of embarrassment, and she runs.
Good. She should run from me. Fast and far enough that I can’t catch her.
I can’t help my cocky grin when I think about just how much fun catching her would be, though. The memory of my hand wrapped up in that gorgeous, thick, dark hair makes me instantly hard. Groaning internally, I’m glad my white button-down is untucked and offers at least a little coverage.
Down, boy.
I force my focus back to the bit of fun two of my boys and I are having, continuing in our attempt to annoy the mouse of a stagehand. That’s part of being us—we get away with acting like the entitled, arrogant asses most people think we are. Nobody here would dare question anything my three best friends and I do, so we practically have free rein, which means we do things like this sometimes to remind ourselves that we’re still breathing.
Payne, Heller, Raff, and I have been best friends pretty much since birth. Our families have lived in this exclusive little town since forever and are viewed as pillars of the community. For the most part, on the outside, we look exactly like what we’re supposed to be—the well-bred first-born sons of the wealthiest and most powerful families in the state. On the inside, we’re anything but. Not one of us wants to follow the paths our families have laid out for us, and not one of us genuinely believes we have any means of escape. We know the day will come, not too far from now, when each of us is forced to conform to the expectations of our lineage and our lives will no longer be our own. We will be forced to marry the women, work the jobs, and father the children our parents dictate.
So, to pass the time and feel like we have some semblance of control, we are the bad boys of Folkestone. Some of us prefer ink, and some of us metal; I crave the fleeting pain of both. We drive too fast, drink too much, fuck whoever we want, and continually wish for a way out. Raff almost succeeded last year, though not in the way he hoped, when he rolled his Porsche Cayman GT4 down an embankment and totaled it. He spent four weeks in the hospital and has a jagged scar across his ribs that girls seem to love.
One of us was with him every day of those four weeks.
His parents were there twice.
I gave up the idea that this life was something I wanted long ago, but I also thought I gave up on the idea of being able to leave it behind. Then a chance run-in with a beautiful dark-haired stranger who rose to my unspoken challenge showed me a brief glimpse of the other side; what it was like to feel alive. Of course, being interrupted by my mother was a mood killer. When my phone rang, I wanted nothing more than to drop it to the ground and crush it under my heel. I felt physical pain as the stranger pulled her strong, feminine body away from mine and smiled at me with that sexy mouth.
Just thinking about the silky feel of her lips is making my boxer briefs uncomfortably tight again.
Fucking hell.
The memory of her hasn’t faded since that afternoon at the airport, and that pisses me off. Seeing her here now pisses me off even more. I don’t get attached. Ever. The only reason to fuck a girl is to get off, and then they cease to exist in my world. Don’t get me wrong, angry or not, I will finish what we started and get her out of my system. I don’t have to like her to fuck her, and when I’ve had my fill of those lush curves, I’ll drop her just like all the others.
The fourth in our little circle, Payne, is down in the third row with Roxy and Aylie, so after we jokingly take our bows, we jump down and join them. My oldest friend sees something of interest in my expression and looks at me questioningly. Scowling back at him, he lets it go, his hands up in mock surrender. He knows I’ll talk when I’m good and ready.
I’m trying like hell to come up with a nonchalant way to ask the girls if they know who Sunday’s with, but before I get the chance, the pit viper known as Hali Torsten slithers her way over to our little group, swaying her hips provocatively.
“Poe, that was just amazing,” she breathes, staring up at me all doe-eyed. “You’re so funny!” She giggles, the sound instantly grating on my last nerve.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that she’s not a good-looking girl; most guys would probably give their left nut to have her look at them the way she looks at me. But I’m not most guys. I know precisely what drives Hali, and the twisted vein of malice and hate that runs through her. There is no way I would ever have anything to do with her, though our parents seem to have other plans.
Shaking her unwelcome touch off my arm, I nod slightly toward the exit. Taking my cue, Payne and Heller lead the way, then me, with Raff, Roxy, and Aylie bringing up the rear. The warning sound Hali makes as we walk away isn’t lost on me.
That’s going to bite me in the ass later.
Once out in the hallway, our group splits up as we all head off to our respective classes. Since Payne and I share the next period, we walk together in silence for a few minutes.
“So. You know who Sunday was with earlier?”
“Who? The dark-haired hottie?” Payne asks with a sly grin. He knows me way too well to fall for my shitty attempt at being casual. “That would be Stella Bradleigh.” I suck in a breath.
Bradleigh? The Bradleigh Heir is back in town? If that’s true, my mother is going to lose her mind.
“Why, you interested, Halliday?”
“As more than a toy? Never. Looks like she might be fun for a night or two, though.” I shrug it off as we enter the classroom and slide into our seats.
“Sure,” he draws out the word like it’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. “If you say so, bro.” Payne laughs and shakes his head.
Aiming my best glare in his direction only makes him laugh harder, so I spend the rest of the class ignoring his dumb ass instead.
Every year,
tradition dictates that the entire senior class has the second period free, and it’s usually spent catching up on homework, sleep, or gossip.
From our alcove in the courtyard, I spot her under a tree on the other side of the green space. Watching her while she watches everybody else intrigues me, and the conversation around me fades into the background.
Calm and quiet, she still commands attention, a strange combination of badass and soft uncertainty. Almost like she’s been kicked in the gut one too many times and isn’t a hundred percent sure she can get up again, but sure as hell is going to try.
The rapid tapping of angry high heels on cement pierces through the fog of my musings like gunfire, and I catch movement from the corner of my eye.
Shit. Hali. I wonder if she knows?
She doesn’t pay me any attention as she leads her handmaidens of mayhem straight to Stella. Payne notices too and nudges me with his foot.
“Think we should do something about that?” he asks, his voice low.
“Let it play out. What is she to us anyway?” I can feel Payne’s disapproving stare as I lean my head back against the wall, feigning disinterest.
Curious to see how she handles herself, I watch covertly while the conversation of my friends continue to swirl around me. I’m too far away to hear what’s being said between the girls, but if body language is any indicator, it isn’t good. Stella stands, her back ramrod straight and her face stony, getting right in her adversary’s face.
Good for you, Bradleigh. You’re going to need that attitude here.
Her little dismissive finger flick makes me chuckle quietly, and I glance away quickly as Payne and Heller both turn at the sound.
When I look back, the scene has moved closer. It looks like Stella may have tried to walk away and now has her wrist caught in an overly manicured death grip. Even from here, I can almost hear the bones grinding painfully together and wonder what sort of mark that’s going to leave on her porcelain flesh.
“Fuck, dude, she’s one of us. We can’t just let Hali rough her up like that.” Payne’s voice is quiet but stern.
“We don’t know what she is to us yet, and I’ll wager neither does she.” My tone makes it clear the matter isn’t open for discussion, but Payne, choosing to ignore me, moves to stand just as Sunday arrives on the scene. Lowering himself back down, the two of us watch the drama unfold.
Whatever the silvery blonde adds to the already volatile mix has to be really unflattering. Hali looks like she would happily set both Sunday and Stella on fire at this point, and that makes me laugh for real this time. The sound must carry through the breeze because Hali looks over, noticing that both Payne and I are watching. The way her expression changes like melting wax disgusts me.
Such a fake-ass bitch.
The distraction allows Stella to pull her arm free when she realizes the focus is no longer on her. Shaking her head in disgust, she starts to walk away, but Sunday, being Sunday, can’t just let it slide. She hooks her arm through Stella’s, and whatever parting shot she lobs at Hali has the nasty bitch trying her hardest to hold on to her vapid smile while her eyes betray the barely contained rage directed at the two girls in front of her. Dark and light head back into the school arm in arm, and the guys and I close ranks and follow shortly after.
Heller and Raff are waiting for me at the end of the day. The two of them leaning nonchalantly against the bank of lockers is causing the usual array of admiring feminine smiles and giggles. Heller ignores it for the most part, but Raff, always the flirt, eats it up.
“Bro, why do you encourage them?” Heller punches him in the arm.
“Why not?” Raff winks at a group of girls walking by, setting them all off tittering like a flock of little birds. “I know they don’t have a chance, and you know they don’t have a chance, but they don’t need to know that.”
“Rafferty Essex, giving hope to desperate girls everywhere.” I punch him in his other arm as I join them, and the three of us laugh as he takes an elaborate bow in the middle of the hallway.
I dump my books in my locker and moving as a single unit, we make our way through the school. As we start down the hall that leads toward the exit doors, I’m greeted by the sight of long dark hair spilling halfway down to a luscious ass, and legs for miles, somehow made even sexier in the over-the-knee socks some of the girls choose to wear instead of tights. Never has a pair of socks looked so damn hot. Once again, my dick swells at the sight of her.
For fuck’s sake, why does she have this effect on me?
Sunday, who is walking backward down the hall, sees us coming and smiles knowingly, her eyes flicking between Stella and I. Stella herself appears to be glued to the spot where she stands. I can almost hear the magnetic hum between us as the guys and I approach from behind.
When we get close enough, I make sure my arm brushes against hers on my way past, and I can’t stop myself from turning and looking over my shoulder to see her reaction. I feel the challenge rise in my eyes again, and again hers spark back at me in response. The pull between us is undeniable, and I wouldn’t stop the jackass smirk that lifts the corner of my mouth even if I could.
Focusing again on my friends, I clap Raff on the back, and we shove through the doors into the lot. Telling the guys I’d talk to them later, I slide behind the wheel of my Vantage AMR and take a few minutes to adjust myself, figuratively and literally. Leaning my head back against the red leather headrest, I pound the steering wheel a few times with the flat of my palm.
Why am I letting this girl get under my skin?
She may be hanging out with the crowd a Bradleigh would be expected to, but I don’t think that’s why she’s doing it. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know what being a Bradleigh Heir even means, or how my being a Halliday affects her.
And I’m positive she has no idea what she’s gotten herself into.
Chapter Seven
My dreams are filled with shrieking shadows and a dark fog of memories, stitched together by sharp teeth and jagged nails. Waking, sweaty and agitated, to the sound of my frantic breathing, I grab my phone from the charging dock on my nightstand and wince when the screen shows me it’s only 4:17 a.m. Weighing my options, I decide to get up and shower, thinking maybe I can get a head start on some of my homework. I’ve only missed the first three and a half weeks of classes, but the curriculum at Woodington is more demanding than the online courses I had been taking back in New York, so I still have a lot of catching up to do.
My aunt finds me two and a half hours later, camped out at the kitchen table, furiously scribbling in a spiral-bound notebook while munching on a piece of peanut butter toast. I have to give it to her; she didn’t pry when I got home from school yesterday, choosing instead to accept my flat two-or-three-word answers when she asked how my day had been. Immediately after dinner, I pleaded exhaustion and went to my room, where I read and listened to music until I fell into my horror show of fitful and disturbing dreams.
Somehow, the look on her face this morning tells me the matched set of baggage I’m carrying under my eyes is going to make it much harder to avoid in-depth questions this time. Just as I brace myself for the inevitable, the door chimes go off, and I’m saved by Spry ushering Sunday into the room, looking entirely too cheerful for this early on a school day.
“Morning, New Girl.” Reaching across the table, she grabs the half-eaten toast out of my hand and finishes it. “Morning, Miss B.”
Sure, Sunday, you can finish my breakfast.
I sigh dramatically.
“I don’t suppose you’re going to stop calling me New Girl anytime soon, are you?”
“Nope.” She shakes her head with a big cheerful grin on her face, popping the P emphatically.
“You two know each other?” I ask grumpily, rolling my shoulders to try to ease some of the tension, either from my shitty sleep or being hunched over my homework.
“Everybody knows Miss B, Stella. She’s famous around here.” I swivel my head toward m
y aunt, surprise widening my eyes. Cecily snorts out a laugh.
“That’s reaching a little.” Shaking her head wryly, she hands my far too chipper friend a napkin to wipe the crumbs from her lips. “I think infamous might be closer to the truth.”
While I am now super curious about that statement, exploring it further will have to wait until I feel less like a crusty, sleep-deprived asshole. Cecily and Sunday chat with each other about the locals I’ve never heard of while I haphazardly shove my books into my bag. Grabbing my friend by the arm, I lead her forcefully from the room mid-sentence, yelling goodbye to my aunt and leaving her staring after us in surprise at our hasty exit.
“In a rush to get to school or something?” Sunday asks, laughing at my scowl.
“Just didn’t feel like answering questions about how my first day was,” I grumble.
The entire ride to school is filled with angry chick rock blaring from the silver Range Rover’s upgraded speakers. Once Sunday parks in the student lot at school, though, she shuts off the ignition, and there’s no more noise from the car stereo to fill the silence between us.
She turns to face me and leans back against her door, crossing her arms and waiting for me to say something. I know she’s looking for an explanation for what happened yesterday after The Aud and later with Poe in the hallway. Fidgeting with the hem of my skirt, my knees become the most fascinating thing ever. For the next thirty seconds, I stare at them intently while silently begging for her to just leave it alone. Sneaking a peek from the corner of my eye, I can see she’s not giving in and is still sitting there, watching me with an exasperated expression and giving no indication that she plans to vacate the SUV anytime soon.
Fragile Things (Folkestone Sins Book 1) Page 5
