I blow out smoke and grin, something dark curling in my chest, too wild to be rational.
“Too late, brother,” I mutter into the night, flicking my newly-lit cigarette off the edge of the balcony. The ember arcs through the dark like a shooting star, disappearing before it lands.
“She already tasted me.”
And I’ll be damned if that’s the last time.
TWELVE
TALON
Idon’t know what possessed me to agree to Mara and her ridiculous plot. But damn if she didn’t look good on that balcony. And the kiss?Fuck me sideways.
So, of course, I’m now moving across the crowded quad to go be the chivalrous boyfriend that I am and find my fake girlfriend so we can end up in a campus gossip Instagram post by tonight.
Fake or not, Mara’s mine now, and no one else on this campus gets to forget it.
Through a part in the crowd of people, I notice her striking black hair. My immediate thought is she looks so damn good, but then I notice a Psi Theta asshole leaning a little too close to her. The corner of his mouth tilts at something she said and it pisses me off.
Oh, fuck this. I lengthen my stride, realizing that what I’m about to do I may enjoy more than I should. But she asked for it. By the time I reach Mara’s side, the guy’s hand is hovering near her arm like he’s actually about to touch her.
Over my goddamn body.
I cut into their exchange with a bright, fake smile, wrapping a possessive arm around Mara. “Hey, Princess. Am I interrupting?”
The three-pump-chump prick blinks in confusion, looking between Mara and me, trying to piece together why an OCK officer would be calling the twin sister of a rival frat’s president “Princess.”
“Oh, I–uh, can we help you? Mara are you?—”
I don’t let him finish, my smile hardening at the edges. “Yeah, well, conversation’s over. Now, quit breathing in my girl’s space before I curb stomp you and mess up those pearly whites your daddy paid for.”
He pales, mouth opening and closing for a moment. “I…” he mumbles.
I continue to glare at him until he pivots and scurries off, nearly tripping over a few other students in his haste.
As soon as he’s out of earshot, Mara elbows me hard in the ribs. “You’re an ass. Poor kid is a pledge,” she hisses, cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment.
I chuckle and lean down to murmur near her ear, “That’s what you signed up for, Princess.”
“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, trying to shrug my arm off her shoulders.
I tighten my hold and steer us toward the dining hall, through the thinning late-morning crowd. “Whatever you say,Kitten,” I tease with a grin.
She lets out a frustrated huff but doesn’t try to pull away again. Fine by me. If she thinks I’m not going to milk this arrangement for all it’s worth, she’s adorable.
She wants a pretend boyfriend? I’ll give her the full experience.
The dining hall is packed and noisy at midday. As we collect our lunches, Mara casts a longing glance toward the corner where her friends usually sit. Not today.
I whisk her tray out of her hands before she can object and carry it along with mine to the center of the room. My crew’stable is smack dab in the middle of the action—exactly where I want us. A few of the guys already there exchange baffled looks as she trails behind me begrudgingly.
I drop onto the bench and pat the spot right next to me. Mara hesitates, but with so many eyes on us, she plasters on a tight smile and sits. The moment she does, I drape my arm along the back of the seat, effectively caging her against my side.
The others shoot me questioning grins, but I silence them with a flat stare before turning my attention to Mara. She’s busying herself with her fork, clearly intending to eat and pretend I don’t exist.
Cute.
I have other ideas.
