I pour another. One for me. One for Jasper. He takes his and leans against the bookcase. I sink into the leather chair by the desk, elbows on my knees, glass dangling between my fingers.
Since middle school, it’s been the three of us—me, Jasper, Dredyn. The sinful trinity. I’d bleed for either of them. I have.
The doorknob rattles, and in strolls Dredyn, red mark on his jaw, knuckles raw, that wolfish curl to his mouth. He clocks the two tumblers on the desk and helps himself to the bottle.
“So, this is where you girls are whispering?” he asks.
“Watch it,” I say without looking at him.
He clinks glass against glass like a toast to his own ego. “Relax. Thought you’d be proud. She stopped screaming when I kissed her.”
“Jesus, Dre?—”
Jasper lifts his hands, signing with that crisp, no-bullshit efficiency that always makes me feel like I’m the sloppy one.“Youcrossed a line.”He jerks his chin toward my glass.“You’re hiding. You know it.”
I force a laugh. “I’m not hiding,”
Dredyn saunters closer, rolling his neck. “You’re sulking because your fake girlfriend looked wrecked when she left the locker room.”
That does it. I stand so fast the chair skids back and slams into the wall. We’re chest to chest in two strides. He’s taller, broader, meaner. I meet him anyway. “Keep your fucking hands off her.”
His eyes go bright—there’s that spark he lives for, that hit before the punch. “Can’t promise that.”
Jasper wedges himself between us, one palm to my sternum, the other to Dredyn’s. He shoves us back with a grunt. “Enough.”
“She asked me. We play pretend, it pisses off Daddy Senator, and keeps Chase out of her hair. Easy.”
Dredyn strolls to the desk and props a hip against it. “Here’s what I think,” he says, tipping his glass at me. “Your fake thing put a leash in her hands—she liked yanking it. We should let her keep tugging. Just make sure it’s ours.”
Jasper signs, sharp,“We don’t do the leash thing.”His eyes hook mine for agreement.
“Yeah, that house-girl tradition? We never played that game. That shit is for our fathers’ generation”
“I want to keep her in our orbit,” he says simply. “Not PTO’s. Not Chase’s. Not Daddy’s.Ours.”
Jasper signs, “She chooses.”Then again, slower so neither of us miss it. “She. Chooses.”
Dredyn nods. “Fine. She’ll choose.”
I snort. “And if she doesn’t choose you?”
“Then she’ll still choose OCK.” He taps his chest. “Which means she chooses me anyway.”
“Christ, Steele. You thinking with your head or your dick?”
He tilts his head, amused. “Says the guy who’s been fake-boyfriending her all week, walking her to class like a golden retriever.”
“That’s a cover,” I bite out. “Insurance.”
“For who?” he asks. “Her? Or your pride?”
Jasper shifts, puts his glass down, signs tightly, “Stop.”Then he adds, almost an afterthought that lands like a grenade, “If she wanted you, Dredyn, she would’ve asked you.”
“You’re just butthurt she didn’t ask you . . . the guy she’s been tutoring for months,” Dredyn says.
“It’s all pretend.”
Dredyn takes that apart with a single look. “Uh-huh. I’m not asking your permission, I’m telling you: I’m done watching you parade her around while you pretend not to want to bite.”
