I’ve grown so accustomed to the constant gossiping that happened around me, because of me, that it’s jarring to have the other students ignore me.
Avery Beaumont really is an evil dictator.
The dining hall is teeming with students, and I have to use my elbows as weapons to get a seat. I ignore the looks from the girls around me at the size of my plate—six pieces of French toast, thank you very much—and dig in like it’s my last meal on death row. I’m starting my third slice when Blaise sits down across from me and actually looks at me. In the face. I wipe my chin in case there’s syrup or cream splattered all over me, and I swallow roughly, trying not to lose what I’ve just eaten.
“Did you know that for the first time in my academic career here at Hannaford, I am sitting on a solid C in math? My dad called me yesterday and offered to buy me the Ferrari of my dreams if I get a B by the end of the year.”
It takes me two tries to speak to him. It’s far easier to speak when he’s not grinning at me and being charming. “So you want my help to get the Ferrari?”
He smirks and makes a slashing motion with his hand. “Fuck the Ferrari. I can buy my own if I want one. I negotiated with him, and if I get a B-plus he’s going to let me take three weeks away during the summer holidays to record my next album. I need a B-plus, Mounty. My career and my very soul need to get away from all of my parents’ bullshit.”
I nod sagely and sip at my drink, feigning a nonchalance I definitely don’t feel. He looks at me expectantly, and when I don’t fall over myself to offer my services to him, he sighs.
“What’s it going to cost me to get you to help me?”
A favor, Matteo’s voice says in my mind. What would I even ask of him, though? I put down my cutlery and push my plate away, giving my food a mournful look. I can never eat around these guys, and the look on Blaise’s face has butterflies dive-bombing deep in my gut.
“No cost. You need to ask for extra credit though; you don’t have enough time left to bring your grade up without it. You’ll need to come to every study session, on time, for the rest of the year, and you’ll have to ask Ash very nicely if he can stop pretending he needs my help so I can focus on helping you.”
“Done.” Blaise grins at me and starts eating his breakfast. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m debating if I should get up and leave when Harley steps into the dining hall with Avery’s arm tucked firmly into his. He sees us immediately and he frowns, his eyes darting between us both. I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile, but it only makes his frown deepen. Avery rolls her eyes, grabs a tray, and shoves it into his chest. I watch, curiously, as he fills it up for them both. I’ve never seen him dote on her like this. Usually Ash is the one who carries her things, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
They walk past us, and Avery only pauses long enough to kiss Blaise’s cheek and murmur agood morningto him as she passes. She doesn’t bother to look my way. Once Harley has Avery all set up and their food is portioned out, he stalks back over to us. Avery glares and shakes her head at him as he sidles up beside me.
As I glance up, the light from the chandeliers catches on the necklace around his neck, and I swallow. I don’t know why I’m shocked that he’s wearing it. If it means so much to him that he’d gotten choked up, then it makes sense he would want to keep it close. I can’t pull my eyes away from it until he speaks and breaks the spell.
“What are you two doing eating breakfast together? People will talk.”
Blaise leans back in his chair and looks every inch the rock star he is. He usually hides it well, like he puts away ‘Blaise Morrison: Lead Vocalist for Vanth Falling’ when he arrives in the gates of Hannaford and becomes the spoiled rich kid everyone expects him to be. I’ve only ever seen the brash musician when he’s around his friends. I get the feeling that this is the mask he wears to survive, that he protects himself and his music from this place the way Avery protects those she loves.
“The Mounty has just offered to be my own personal tutor for the rest of the year. We’re going to be practically inseparable, doesn’t that sound fun?”
My cheeks flush, and I give him a look. Adon’t-fuck-with-me-after-I’ve-agreed-to-help-youlook. The cocky grin I get in return is something poets could write sonnets about. It’s stunning and terrible and hot and heartbreaking.
“I could’ve helped you. Why didn’t you ask?” Harley grumbles. I look up at him, and he looks away from me quickly, like he didn’t want me to catch him staring. He is the most confusing guy I’ve ever met.
“No, you really can’t. What’s the problem, man? Avery’s lifted the speaking ban. Any other reason I should be staying away from the Mounty?” His voice is too smug, and the smirk he levels at Harley makes my heart stutter. It’s almost as if…they can’t be fighting over me. They both have made their feelings toward me perfectly clear this year. Harley shrugs coolly—aiming, I think, to look unaffected—but I can see his fists clenching. He puts his elbows on the chair next to me and leans forward like he’s going to whisper at Blaise. He’s loud enough that the students around him here every. Goddamn. Word.
“Just thought you’d be more afraid of spending that much time alone with your stalker.”
The blood drains from my head until I’m left feeling dizzy. There it is. There’s the reason I shouldn’t ever speak to Blaise without classwork in front of us. The sounds of sniggering and laughter start up around us from the students shamelessly eavesdropping. I stand up abruptly and grab my bag. Harley chuckles under his breath at me, but I refuse to look at him. He was right all those months ago. I need to bury my nerves better when it comes to him and Blaise. And Ash.Goddammit.
“Just get the extra credit work. I’ll help you during the tutoring sessions, but don’t talk to me otherwise.”
I stomp out of the dining hall to the sound of Harley’s roaring laughter and Blaise swearing up a storm at him.
* * *
Idecide to arrive at our study group late.
Well, I actually decide to skip the tutoring sessions altogether, but then I think about my college submissions and I cave. I don’t want to have to face Blaise again so soon. His opinion of me shouldn’t matter. I’m the Wolf, for fuck’s sake, but I feel a hot shame wash over me whenever I think about him. He really does think I’m a sad little groupie. Not an awesome, sexy groupie. I’ve met girls like that before, I’ve been to gigs and seen girls that are so powerful with how they hold themselves up and live their truths.
My truth is I’m an inexperienced, blushing idiot with responsibilities no student at Hannaford would ever understand.
I wish I hadn’t stayed quite so far away from guys back at Mounts Bay. Not that I wish I’d had sex with anyone, but if I’d dated guys or, fuck, kissed anyone before coming here, maybe I wouldn’t be so awkward about this. Maybe Joey’s little sweep wouldn’t have been such a big deal. I can’t think of a single girl in my last school who wouldn’t jump at the chance to fuck a Hannaford guy, and maybe even get some cash for her troubles.
Ash and Blaise are already at our table when I get to the library. There’s no laughing or joking going on this time, and Ash is taking stacks of paper from Blaise and flicking through them. My eyes narrow. It’s all just more evidence that he’s been lying about needing my help.
Blaise looks up at me with stark relief, and I take the chair next to him without a word, unpacking the bare essentials from my bag. “Thank god, Mounty, I thought—“
