“That asshole, Whitmore, ditched Violet at the dance.”
“You don’t say,” I said, feeling Ronan’s eyes on me. “So you swept in and rescued her and are now living happily ever after.”
“Not quite,” Miller said. “I hooked up with Amber.”
“Plot twist.Why?”
“My numbers were low, and I was drunk. It was a mistake.”
“Where have I heard that before?” I muttered.
Miller shook his head. “Anyway, that’s no excuse. What happened happened, and I’m going to make the best of it. See if there’s anything between us.”
Ronan snorted again, and Miller shot him an angry look.
“Clearly, you’ve been discussing this turn of events at length prior to my arrival,” I said. “Ronan, you don’t approve?”
He scoffed. “Amber put his dick in her mouth, so Miller thinks he owes her.”
“Fuck off, Wentz,” Miller snapped and tossed his guitar in the case and closed the lid. “I gotta go to work.”
We listened to him lock his guitar in the shack, and then he trudged out, head down, shoulders hunched.
“What was that all about?” I asked.
“Just what I said,” Ronan replied. “They hooked up, and now he’s trying to do what he thinks ishonorable.”
“I’m not acquainted with that word personally, but isn’t that a good thing?”
He toyed with his beer. “Where were you on homecoming night?”
“Weren’t we talking about Miller eight milliseconds ago?”
Ronan’s gaze was relentless. I started to make up a lie, but my vodka-soaked brain wasn’t cooperating.
“Running interference for Miller,” I said with a sigh. “I thought it would help. I guess not.”
Ronan’s eyebrows rose slightly—the equivalent of massive shock in anyone else. “Whitmore?”
I nodded. “I’d rather not talk about it. Except Amber’s night and mine have some surprising similarities.”
Ronan snorted a laugh and then was quiet for a minute, his eyes as gray as the ocean. “I was thinking about bringing someone here.”
I frowned. “Who do you know besides us? And Vice Principal Chouder doesn’t count.”
Chouder was in charge of student discipline. Ronan spent more time in his office than in an actual classroom.
“Shiloh Barrera.”
“Don’t know her. Or him.”
“Her.”
It was one syllable, yet the hairs on my arms stood up the way his low, rumbling voice infused it with something close to reverence.
“It’s fine by me, but do you need majority approval?”
“I haven’t asked Miller yet,” Ronan said. “I will.”
