“I’m going to find Dixie,” I tell my brothers. “I’ll find you guys later.”
I hurry away, leaving them to figure out the parking issue with the Darlings. I’m not going to get caught up in this ridiculous power struggle over a parking space. I want nothing to do with it, especially until my heart stops flopping like a fish every time I hear Devlin’s name, or see his smile, or remember the smell of his skin as he leaned close…
I do a great job of avoiding Devlin first period, but when I arrive in lit, Colt pats the seat beside him. He sits sprawled in his chair, his legs out in the aisle like a desk can’t contain him. “Sit, Sugar,” he says with a big, easy grin.
“I can’t,” I say with a tight smile.
“Your brothers have you on a short leash,” he says, still grinning like it doesn’t matter. But I hear an edge of challenge in his voice, a tone that scares me more than Devlin’s heart-stopping glare. Because as much as Devlin intimidates me, Colt tempts me. He tempts me to do something reckless, something deadly.
“It’s not my brothers,” I say. “It’s your cousin.”
Turning, I hurry to an empty desk. Just as I’m about to sit, Colt slips into the seat.
“Seat’s taken.” He grins up at me, that challenge still there, growing stronger now. I stare back at him, not moving. The truth is, I want to accept that challenge. I want to step over the line, do something wild and dangerous. I want to defy Devlin, to prove he doesn’t scare me, even though he does. To show myself, if I can’t show him, that he doesn’t control my life.
But that would be asking for it.
“What are you doing?” I demand of Colt.
“Seat’s taken,” he says again, leaning forward and bracing a forearm on the desk. Hard, ropy muscle threads along his arm, fine threads of golden hair shining against his tan skin.
“Fine.” I sigh and move to sit down in the next row, but he slips around the back of his seat and drops into the one I’m aiming for. By now, we’ve drawn the attention of a few people. They all watch, waiting for something.
Maybe the signal to start barking at me.
Fuck. I’d better bore them before that happens.
“What do you want?” I hiss at Colt, gritting my teeth and trying not to look around at the expectant faces in the class.
He pats the seat beside him. “You can sit here.”
“I’m not sitting beside you.”
“Okay.” He smiles up at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Despite the lazy, stoner vibe he puts off, there’s something calculating and hard in his gaze. He won’t give up, I realize. Not until I obey.
And really, what will it hurt? This is silly—running around the class playing some stupid game of musical chairs. I can just sit where I did yesterday and ignore Colt. I spin, flicking my hair over my shoulder at him, and march over to the empty seat. I drop into it before he can reach it. I’m being as immature as he is. I could have just sat beside him where he is. But if the only power I have is to make him come to me, that’s what I’ll do.
A second later, he slides in next to me. “Hey, Sugar,” he says. “Glad you came around to my way of thinking.”
The relaxed, easy grin belies the iron will I saw behind those grey eyes a second ago. But I won’t forget it’s there.
“What do you want?” I whisper, leaning low and turning my head toward him so prying eyes can’t decipher my words.
“Can’t a hot guy want to talk to a pretty girl?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to my irritation.
“Not when their families want to kill each other.”
“You want to kill me?” he asks with feigned surprise.
I grit my teeth. “Right now?”
Colt laughs, a big easy laugh. He may look no more harmful than a big, friendly golden retriever, but I saw the determination in his eyes. I know there’s more to this guy than meets the eye.
If he’s going to play that game, then I’ll play along. I don’t know his reasons, but if he doesn’t want people to know he’s more than a laid-back flirt, who am I to blow his cover? I know all about hiding behind a facade, about having to be a certain way because that’s what people want and expect. And I know that if he wanted to share more with me, he would have done it instead of deflecting with a flirtatious comment.
So, I let it go. When he nudges me during class, I look down to see a sheet of paper edging onto my desk, his lazy scrawl covering multiple lines.
If our families want to kill each other, we could def be Romeo and Juliet.