I wrinkle my nose. “There are an endless number of hotties on the planet at any one time. I’m sure you can find a replacement for the starring role.”
Her face twists like she’s in physical pain. “The poor boy does look lonely.”
The boy looks like he could have the pick of half the school and knows it, but I nod along with her summary.
“You’d be doing him a favour,” I tell her while a spark of light dances in her eyes. “Just a sec.”
With a quick twist, I let down my hair, turning to the wall as I ruffle it into a bird’s nest. Next, I fasten the buttons I usually leave open, and smear my lipstick outside of the assigned area.
“Ugly wing-woman reporting for duty.”
Clare is caught in such a wave of laughter at my transformation that I think she’s aborted the idea. Then she twists a lock of her blonde hair around her finger, purses her lips, and bounces from her seat to stride across to the exalted group. “Hey, Wilder. Heard you got dumped. Found anyone to lick your wounds, yet?”
The boy stares at her like she’s an alien and I scurry to her side, slinging an arm low around her hip.
Nothing like a little dab of lesbian action to perk up their waning interest. Even Zane glances at the placement of my hand before glaring at the floor like it poisoned his father and fucked his mother.
Wilder steps closer, looming above us—the perfect vantage point to stare down Clare’s top, which he does with enthusiasm.
“If you like,” she continues, “we could come along to the party tomorrow night to cheer you up.”
“Oh, yeah?” He stares at her face, lingering on each feature for an extended length of time before moving to the next. When his gaze lands on her cleavage again, he licks his lips.
A jolt of excitement hits me on her behalf. That’s a definite gleam of interest.
“You like to experiment?” he asks, eyes locked to her tits until it’s so uncomfortable I shift my weight to my back foot just to break the tension. “What about it?” His gaze bounces over to meet mine, his face contorting into a grimace. “Oh, not you.”
He curves Clare into the side of his body as I step back, his callousness stinging. My friend pulls an apologetic face and I shake my head.Don’t worry about me. Get some.
“But you’re more than welcome to come tomorrow night,” Wilder continues. His lips drop to Clare’s ear, and he murmurs something too soft for me to catch. When he finishes, her eyes have a dazed expression.
Meanwhile, I take my seat, cheeks warming with colour. It’s not like Icare.I’d made myself look bad, but the reaction is outside my control.
Tears glimmer in my eyes, brimming against the lower lid before they spill down to wet my face. One trickles to my chin, dangling there, tickling while another hits my top lip, my tongue instinctively darting out to catch it, the taste salty and bitter.
I don’t evenlikeWilder. What he thinks of me only matters if it affects my friend, nothing more.
But my face keeps doing what it’s doing, and experience has taught me I can’t short-circuit the routine. I raise my chin so at least gravity doesn’t work against me and meet Zane Beaumont’s intense gaze.
His blue eyes darken like the skies two seconds before a thunderstorm hits, near to black. His fingers grip the edge of the desk, knuckles whitening.
My torso shudders, each heartbeat pounding harder. I whip around to face forward as the teacher enters and Clare slips into the seat beside mine, giving my leg a squeeze on the way.
After long seconds spent telling myself he’s not interested—royalty doesn’t gaze with longing at the ugly peasant girl—I risk another glance.
Zane still stares in my direction, but he’s not making eye contact. Instead, his gaze rests below, fixed to the tears dampening my cheeks.
CHAPTER TWO
ZANE
“What party?”I ask as we amble along the corridor after class, en route to the car park.
Wilder earns a glare until I grow sick of the grin on his face and glance at Maddox instead. His arms are around his girlfriend Evie, his attention absorbed by watching her watch whatever’s on her phone. When he registers I’m talking to him, he just shrugs. No help.
“Why are you planning a party?” I try instead. “And why in god’s name are you holding it at my house? You remember I’m on home detention, right?”
“That’s exactly why it’s the perfect place. Otherwise, we couldn’t invite you.”
