“Oh stop it,” Jordan snapped. “Rafe, quit acting so shocked. We discussed this. Besides, you guys were a one time thing, right? Just an adrenaline fuck after Vi’s fight?”
That…waswhat we’d said. Wasn’t it?
“Wait, you discussed this? As in our sex lives?” I scowled at both of them. “Not cool.”
Easing off Jordan’s cock, I shuffled to the edge of the bed, keeping the sheet tucked firmly around my naked body as I searched for my clothes. Seriously, how had they ended up spread so fucking far around Jordan’s room?
“No need to act modest on my account, Cinderella,” Rafe purred, all snark and malice. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen—or tasted—before.”
Against my better judgment, my cheeks heated and my stupid-ass brain took me on a trip down memory lane.
“Just because my judgment was impairedoncedoesn’t mean it ever will be again,” I replied with ice and venom, locating my skirt and shimmying it on under the sheet. It sounded hard to do, and it was. Still, I refused to give Rafe the satisfaction of seeing me naked again… despite what he’d walked in on.
Jordan groaned at our bickering, slid out of bed—clearly not giving two shits who saw his naked ass—and tugged some pants on. “You two are as bad as each other. So, what was important enough to pick my lock and bust in here?”
Rafe frowned at his friend. “I didn’t pick the lock, bro. I have a key.” He held it up to demonstrate. “It just seemed rude to use it without knocking first.”
My jaw dropped, and Jordan scrubbed a hand over his face while clearly fighting a laugh. “So, what is it? Vi and I were right in the middle of something.” Jordan’s eyebrow raise would have said it all… had Rafe not just seen it for himself.
Ugh, fuck. Now I’m blushing.
“Clearly,” Rafe commented, scooping up my bra from the floor near his feet and dangling it from his fingers. Fucking hell. “I came to let you know that the charity case was missing, but I see you found her already.” His dark gaze rested on me for way too long, like he could see through the sheet with X-ray vision or some shit. Or maybe that was just a convenient excuse I was telling myself to justify the way my nipples hardened under his stare.
“Thanks, I was looking for that,” I snapped, stomping across the room to snatch my lace garment from his hand. Unable to stop pushing his buttons, I gave him my back and dropped the sheet—allowing Jordan a full frontal view of me in nothing but a plaid skirt. Bit porno? Yep, totally. His tortured groan and wicked smile backed it up, while I slipped my bra back on and tried, then failed, to fasten the hooks.
“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered under my breath after missing the eyelet for the second time and totally ruining the sexy thing I’d been aiming for.
Warm fingers pried the fabric from my hands, and I froze.
“You look like you need help, Cinderella,” Rafe murmured in my ear, and damn it if my whole body didn’t quiver as his fingertips brushed my spine and his breath feathered my neck.
Yeah, that had backfired.
“Thanks,” I snapped, jumping out of his grip the second I felt my bra hook close.
He huffed a small laugh. “Anytime.”
Wow, like that wasn’t a loaded statement.
“One other thing, Jordy,” Rafe continued, like he hadn’t just chucked a roman candle down my pants and set it on fire. “I just heard who some of the special guests are for the Spring Ball.”
I frowned, trying to follow what he was talking about as I tugged my blouse on and buttoned it up with shaking hands. “The school dance?”
Jordan gave me a nod. “Yeah, it’s tradition to invite important guests—some crap to do with alliances and politics because Arbon tends to secure the majority of royals as students.”
“Most, but not all. So, often invitations to the Spring Ball are extended to other royals or aristocrats,” Rafe continued, giving a small grimace. “I just heard Meghan is going to be attending with her guardians.”
Jordan heaved a sigh, but I had no idea who Meghan was.
A cold chill of dread pooled in my belly. What if Meghan was Jordan’s betrothed?
“It gets worse,” Rafe said, and Jordan pulled a pained face. “I also found out that Zach’s somehow managed to secure an exchange student position here for the rest of the academic year.”
This one I knew. Jordan cursed, running a hand through his hair, then he clenched a fist like he wanted to punch something. Or someone. Probably Zach.
“Has anyone told Mattie?” he asked, showing—once again—that he was constantly thinking of everyone else. So cute. “She needs to know.”
“I’ll go tell her,” I offered, tugging on my socks and locating my left shoe.
