I snort. “So people can think you were shitting your brains out for a week?” I laugh, thumping a fist against the table. “Just say you had your period, babe. Nobody asks follow-up questions about that.”
Raf doesn’t react, but Wes arches a brow, like he’s genuinely surprised I’ve survived this long with the things that come out of my mouth.
Ava rolls her eyes so hard she must see the back of her skull. “Do you knowanythingabout women?” she scoffs. “A period doesn’t require a week of bed rest.”
I shrug. “I know enough to make them come so hard they can’t walk after.”
The blush that spreads across her cheeks makes my dick thicken instantly.
Yeah, definitely not making it to lunch time.
Wes groans and rubs his temples. “Ford, can you keep it in your pants for like ten fucking minutes?”
“Not if she keeps wearing skirts like that,” I reply, licking my lips as my gaze rakes over her bare legs. “That’s like putting steak in front of a starving man and telling him to go vegan.”
Ava shoves her cup away and slouches back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Just so you know, you’re not even in my top ten most annoying problems right now.”
That stings a little, but I hide it with a grin. “Then you need better problems, Ava baby.”
Raf finally speaks, voice low and still rough with exhaustion. “Play your role, we protect you. Step out of line, deal’s off.”
Ava straightens in her chair, defensive. “Yeah, yeah, I got it,” she mutters, waving a hand dismissively. Her eyes bounce between the three of us like she’s waiting for someone to call her bluff. I consider doing it just to see what would happen, but Wes is already on his feet, grabbing his bag and heading for the door.
“Let’s go,” he barks over his shoulder. “We’re late.”
We all grab our shit and fall into formation, piling out the door and starting down the stairs. On the last landing, I fish a cigarette out of my pocket and light it, taking a long drag before deliberately blowing the smoke straight into Ava’s face. Sherecoils instantly, but I just sling an arm around her shoulders and steer her down the rest of the stairs, ignoring her sputtering.
“Welcome back to our world, Doll,” I say, leaning in close enough that she can’t avoid the stench of smoke on my breath. She wriggles in protest, but I tighten my grip.
Outside, the cold gray morning hits us as we step out of Sutton Hall and start down the path toward the quad. The reaction from the rest of the student body is immediate. Heads turn as soon as we come into view, like someone dropped raw meat into a tank of piranhas. Whispers ripple through the crowd in our wake as we stride in the direction of the quad.
“…thought she was gone for good…”
“...is she really back with them…?”
“…maybe she was in rehab…”
I fucking love this part.
The attention, the spectacle. The way the entire campus watches, wishing they were privy to the details of our lives and knowing they never will be.
Let them look. It’s better than any PR campaign we could’ve staged.
We stop at the main intersection in the quad where all the walkways split off, the four of us planted dead center like it’s our personal stage.
Wes glances at his phone to check the time, then says, “I’ll get coffees.”
He peels off toward the coffee cart, leaving me, Ava, and Raf standing in a tight little triangle while the morning crowd flows around us.
The late autumn air’s cold enough that Ava rubs at her biceps for warmth, probably wishing she chose something warmer to wear than that flimsy turtleneck. When she starts to shiver, I pull off my leather jacket and drape it over her shoulders. Sheglances up at me with her eyes narrowed, half-surprised, half-suspicious.
“If you freeze to death, the whole plan falls apart,” I say with a wink. “I’m just being practical.”
“Yeah, sure,” she scoffs, but snuggles into the warmth anyway.
She looks way too fucking good in my jacket.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bryce Hamilton charging across the grass like someone just fired a starting pistol. He nearly trips over a pigeon in his hurry, arms pinwheeling for balance before he manages to recover. His hair is somehow even more aggressively platinum today, like he dunked his head in bleach before breakfast, eyes wide and frantic as he skids to a stop in front of us.
