Pride was something else. Hurt was something else. This boy had hurt me, multiple times, and I couldn’t easily forget.
I wished I could.
With no response from me, Dorian’s head lowered, that silky blond brushing his brow. I wanted to touch it so bad.
I wanted to touch him.
I resisted the devil in all his dark temptation. Dorian may be willing to change, but that part of him would always be there. He’d always have the capability of massive destruction, even if he had changed.
He could always destroy me whether he wanted to or not.
Reaching up, he played with my hair, and I let him for a second because I was stupid.
The hair slipped from his fingers.
“Let me know when you have that,” he said, avoiding my gaze, and it took everything in me to let him walk away.
But in the end, I did.
*
Later that night, my brother surprised me when he asked if we could go see a movie. Typically, he played video games or brushed up on homework, and since I’d finished my project with Ares, I stayed in my studio most nights. It kept my thoughts about everything else surrounding Dorian Prinze away.
Needless to say, I said yes. Getting out of the house would definitely help. My brother decided to drive us in his Audi, and I noticed his gaze more than once in my direction while we drove. More specifically, his gaze lingered on my Windsor Prep hoodie and leggings. He frowned. “I wished you would have put something else on, or at least tried not to look like you just got off the couch.”
I had just gotten off the couch. I’d been eating dinner when he asked to go to the movie.
I flipped him off. He’d said something similar before we left. Actually, he’d made a big deal about it, saying I looked lazy, but he didn’t appear much different. He wore jeans and a polo.
“I’m not trying to impress anyone,” I said, hugging my arms, and he chuckled.
“Clearly,” he returned, and it took all I had not to knock his head forward. I did get him in the side, though, and it was nice that we were getting back to normal. I liked my brother not being sick anymore.
Gratefully, Bruno laid off while we continued to drive for the most part. I still got his eye, but when we traveled in the opposite direction of the movie theater, I sat up. Maywood Heights only had a couple movie theaters, and they weren’t this way. My brow lifted. “Where are we going?”
“The movies.”
“Newsflash. We’re nowhere near where we need to be going for the movies.” I angled around. Actually, we seemed to be heading in the direction of the academy.
Which was why I wasn’t surprised when that was exactly where we turned up.
We passed under the academy’s crest, then next thing I knew, my brother was pulling into the football stadium’s parking lot. My lips parted. “Bruno Sloane, why are we here?”
He didn’t answer me.
The first thing I noticed was the lights were on at the stadium. So bright they flooded the parking lot, which didn’t make sense. The school never had them on unless there was a game going. The second thing that stole my attention was that, yes, this was our destination. Bru parked his car, getting out. He came around, opening my door, and I stayed in my seat.
“Why are we here?” I asked, but only got my brother’s grin. I started to ask him about that, but he didn’t give me a chance.
My brother shot off running, like legit running. Unstrapping, I got out. His car chirped after I closed the door, my brother running backward.
“Come on, sis. You shouldn’t be slower than the sick kid!” he called, reminding me of Ares with the statement.
I really did need to work on my cardio and was huffing by the time I did catch up to him. My brother had disappeared in the direction of the players’ locker rooms, but I caught him when I got around the corner.
He wasn’t alone. In fact, I counted one, two, three boys, my brother the shortest.
But everyone was shorter than a Legacy boy. Thatcher Reed and Wells Ambrose surrounded my brother. They were chatting with him, laughing, but when the group spotted me, they eased around.