Page 9 of Spin the Damn Bottle

Jason whips out his phone, his thumb flying over the screen until he places a call on speaker. The person on the other end replies after four rings, his voice low and authoritative. “Jace."

"Father. I do apologize for disturbing you during your work day. Mr. Bone is being problematic."

Now I almost feel bad for the poor headmaster. He looks about to piss his pants.

"You want me to have him replaced?" Mr. Alden offers without asking for details.

Jesus, these people are something else. I can't even imagine having that much power. No wonder Jason believes himself untouchable.

"Not for the moment. Can we just clarify what the board's position would be on moving my girlfriend to Glass?"

“The Astrella girl?”

I gape, openly shocked. Jason's father knows of me?

"Reyes," he corrects. "The school hasn't bothered to find who set the fire yet, so she could be in danger. I'd rather have her near me."

His father hesitates only one moment. "Remind Mr. Bone his jurisdiction doesn't extend to Glass—and won't extend to any Heritage-affiliated businesses if he doesn't remember his place. And take care of her. We don't need her father displeased with us."

"Uncle," Jason says. "And thank you. Say hi to Mother."

"You call her if you'd like to say anything. I'm in a meeting." Mr. Alden sounds gruff, but he did answer in the middle of a meeting. Father and son appear to share the strange ability of seeming both cold and caring. "Anything else?"

“No, I'll let you get back to work. Thanks for the clarification.” Jace hangs up and tucks his phone back into his pocket with a tilt of his head to the headmaster. "Did you catch everything, or do I need to disrupt other board members?"

The poor guy’s Adam's apple bobbles meekly. "I'll arrange the transfer, sir."

Sir. It's all I can do not to laugh.

"You do that." Jason wraps his arm around my waist, pulls me close and kisses the side of my head.

I let him make his point. It’s only for show.

The moment we’re out of the office, though, I wiggle out of his embrace and remind him of something we both need to keep in mind after this performance. "I'm not your girlfriend, Jace."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jason shoves his hands in his pockets and walks out of the faculty building.

As soon as the automated doors leading to the courtyard open, a crisp coldness hits my nose, and I inch forward, grinning.

The first snowfall of the season. It was too warm earlier, so I doubt it'll stick, but I'm delighted all the same.

"You like winter," Jason guesses, watching my childish display of enthusiasm.

I grimace in distaste. Even in my red duffle coat, with thick socks under my Docs and fleece-lined tights, I'm freezing. "I'm a summer girl through and through, but there's something about snow."

I enjoy watching it fall, and waking up to a white morning the first time it sticks is a vision out of a fairy tale or a dream. It never fails to make me smile.

"Have you seen it from high up in the mountains? The Alps, or Aspen?" He asks, guiding us toward his driver, who waits in front of the burgundy Bentley.

As far as cars go, it's one of the most modest ones among those who keep a driver just to take them from their dorms to the school. If I've learned one thing at Cross, is that those with true wealth don't tend to flaunt it too hard.

I could wait for a bus, but his car is already here, and I see no harm in getting in. It means nothing, other than the fact that I prefer convenience. Besides, I just agreed to move into Glass—getting a ride from him is nothing in comparison.

"Right. The Alps. I go every other day." What kind of person does he think I am?

Jason chuckles, and holds his hand up to the driver, who’s just walked out of the front of the car. The man—young, attractive, and dark haired—nods and return to his seat.