“Yep. Off-limits. Maggie is just your best friend. Keep telling yourself that, cowboy,” Wolf says over his shoulder.
“She’s just your best friend. Your pretty friend,” Chase mutters as they walk away.
The wallpaper glue must’ve seeped through the floral design because I’m stuck. Adhered to the wall. I’m convinced I’ll never be able to move again.
“Hey, don’t listen to them.” Declan startles me from wondering how I’ll be able to conduct daily life functions from my new home in the hallway.
“Don’t listen to us about being pretty or—?” Wolf starts.
“All of you, vamoose,” Declan orders. “And not a word of this to anyone.”
Muttering and tittering among themselves, they obey.
If it weren’t for the lingering smoke from the firecrackers, I’d think Declan’s cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. “Should we be concerned that a fire alarm didn’t go off? A sprinkler system?” I sense something unspoken between his words.
Miraculously, I remove myself from the wall and stalk closer, amused by this turn of events. If I’m not mistaken, Declan is being protective of me. Defensive. Possessive?
“Is it because you know I’m hot?” I ask, repeating his earlier question and directing it at him.
His jaw lowers and lifts. “I’m sure there’s a fire extinguisher somewhere nearby.”
“You’ll have to ask the headmistress and talk to her about how you plan to clean up this mess.”
“What mess?”
“That your teammates are aware we know each other.”
“They won’t tell.”
“Sounded to me like you’ve told them about me before now. Me, your best friend.”
Declan’s eyes flash. “They’re a bunch of animals.”
“A bunch of attractive animals,” I say with a grin to see what’ll happen.
“They clearly thought the same of you.”
“Let me guess, you don’t like that.”
“Not. At. All,” he grinds out.
“Well, I’m not going to do anything to risk my job, or yours, so you don’t have anything to worry about from me. But in response to your question when you came out of the salon, you know what they say about the company you keep.” With a wink, I sweep down the hall as if my long skirts bustle around me and my hair flows back with the wind.
I’m not sure where that bold bit of flirty drama came from, but I’ll regret it later when I’m trying to sleep. For now, I’ll pretend that for once, I’m not the average girl next door. Rather, I’m the belle of the ball.
Oh, but wait. We have class this morning, so I turn around and return to Declan’s side. He remains where I left him in the hall, blinking slowly as if struck dumb, then gives his head a shake. “Couldn’t stay away, huh?”
My mouth waters and my head spins slightly as if I’m lightheaded. Hungry. I suddenly want another midnight snack.
Focusing for the rest of the day requires repeated reminders to close the tabs in my brain. But when Declan speaks, a new one opens up, querying why the subtle lilt of his accent makes me lean in.
Focus, Maggie.
Then another pops open when I notice the size of his hands and the calluses. We’re only in our twenties, but I’m surprised he doesn’t wear a ring. Well, a non-Super Bowl one.
At lunch, he asks, “Do you want to know what my favorite kind of cake is? Maggie cake. Like Patty Cake.”
“Like the nursery rhyme? I think it’s Pat-a-cake.”
