His response is merely a look that says he knows exactly what he did to me and it has nothing to do with the firecrackers.
“Leave it to Declan to exit the salon with a bang,” a deep male voice says from behind me.
I turn around. It’s Wolf, followed by Chase and Grey. The three massive football players stand shoulder to shoulder, filling the wide hallway behind me with Declan on the other side.
“Where there’s smoke, there’s Declan.” Chase’s lips twitch like he’s trying to hide his amusement.
Grey frowns as if he disapproves. Then again, he always looks grumpy.
“You can blame Maggie. She made me do it,” Declan says.
I point at myself as if he could be referring to anyone else. Declan steps closer and I back up against the wall so I’m not a football player sandwich. If the three guys behind me charge at their teammate for causing trouble, I’ll be trampled.
“Wait, Maggie?” Chase asks.
“I thought she was Miss Byrne.” Grey, ever formal, polite, and sullen, does not belong here.
“Maggie Byrne?” Wolf looks me up and down as if making a connection.
I give my head a subtle shake as if begging him not to recognize that Declan and I know each other, which has the potential to cause me to lose my job.
Guys, this is a secret relationship, er, friendship, and it needs to stay that way.
“The one. The only. The legendary.” Declan smiles proudly.
“This is Maggie?” Wolf says.
Are they confused? Upset? Shocked? I can’t tell. I should’ve been directing my telepathic begging at Declan not to blow our cover.
Wolf looks me up and down. In fact, my blazing cheeks suggest they all are.
This genuinely confuses me.
“Declan has talked a lot about you. But he never mentioned—” Wolf cuts himself off at a sharp glare from Declan.
“Eyes over here, Connor.” Declan’s tone is a low warning.
I see why when I risk a glance as Wolf’s eyes eat me up like I’m little more than a slice of Little Red Riding Hood’s chocolate cake.
“But you never mentioned—” Chase starts, then thinks better of it.
“She’s his best friend, boys,” Grey says in a way that suggests something I can’t quite define.
Yet those are my sentiments exactly. Or should be.
“That’s right. Maggie is off-limits. And this conversation is not to be repeated. We can’t have the headmistress find out we know each other. Conflict of interest,” Declan says authoritatively.
“Why? Because Maggie will automatically pass you? Not fair,” Wolf says.
“It’s in your best interest that I get a good review,” Declan says.
“I am not going easy on him just because we’re friends. Best friends,” I clarify, in case they have other ideas. “He faces the same Blancbourg scrutiny as the rest of you. Promise.”
“Fair enough.” Grey leans against the wall with his arms crossed. His foot vibrates like he wants this conversation to be over.
“Right. You’re friends. We get it.” Wolf grins.
“My best friend,” Declan adds, affirming my fear. No, it affirms my hope because I don’t want to mess things up. We’re just friends and that’s how it’ll stay ‘til death do we part.
