“You’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” he says, his eyes sparkling with humor.
“Shut up,” I say, turning away to hide my embarrassment. I mean, I fucking bled all over a guy’s sheets. That’s something so humiliating that even hearing his laugh can’t erase the embarrassment completely. My homecoming dress lies crumpled on the floor, too sad and pathetic to put on again. That sure as hell won’t save my dignity. Ignoring it, I stomp over to his dresser and grab out a T-shirt.
“What are you doing?” Devlin asks.
“Getting dressed,” I say, pulling it over my head. “I’m not wearing my dress and doing the walk of shame. Fuck that.”
Before he can answer, I turn and yank open another drawer, finding a pair of sweatpants. They’re ridiculously long and baggy on me, but I tie the drawstring and make do.
When I turn back to Devlin, a small smile plays over his lips, his expression infuriatingly unreadable.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says. “That’s weirdly hot.”
I grab my shoes off the floor and stuff my feet into them, ignoring Devlin’s snickers. When I look up, though, he’s not laughing at me, not in the mean way he has before.
“Come ‘ere,” he says, slinging an arm around me and pulling me in, pressing his lips to my forehead. I resist for a moment, but all I want to do is pull him back onto the bed, curl up in his arms, and stay there forever. I rest my hands on his hips, closing my eyes and breathing him in as deeply as I can, as if I can save this moment forever.
“What now?” I whisper, not daring to open my eyes.
“Shhh,” Devlin says, resting his cheek against the top of my head.
A minute later, knuckles rap on the door, and Devlin pulls away. Without a word, he turns and walks out into the hall. Taking a deep breath, I follow.
To our left, the twins stand with Dolly between them. She’s wearing full, fresh makeup and her dress from the night before, which looks as fresh as if she hung it in the closet overnight, but her expression is wary as she watches us as if waiting for some judgment.
Devlin’s judgment, I realize. I look to him, but I can’t read his expression. He gives them a cool look before turning to the other side. Colt is standing in the hall, having just knocked. Dixie stands behind him wearing her rumpled homecoming dress and holding her shoes in her hand. Her lipstick is gone, and her eye makeup is smudged. Her face is pale under her freckles, and for once, I can’t read her expression. She’s just… Blank.
Footsteps sound on the stairs, and Preston appears looking freshly showered and shaved, his short hair spiked up and a feverish excitement lighting his eyes. He stops when he reaches the landing, and his gaze skims over all of us in one sweep. A shit-eating grin spreads across his face as he stands there waiting, a hand on the railing.
Devlin looks back and forth between us all, and something snaps down over his eyes as if he’s just put on a mask. I can almost feel the temperature drop around him. The playful, dirty-talking, lustful Devlin is gone, replaced with the cold, cruel boy I’ve walked the halls with at school.
“Did you nail ‘em?” Preston asks.
“Yeah,” Colt says with a grin, turning to Devlin. “Did you?”
“Yeah,” Devlin says. “Sometimes you gotta throw a dog a bone.”
Colt’s smile grows wider, and he leers at me in Devlin’s oversized clothes, so casually callous that it makes me want to wrap my arms around myself and hide. His gaze that makes me feel like a commodity whose value he’s appraising. He holds up a hand for Devlin to high-five, but Devlin turns on his heel, facing my brothers. “Get out of my house,” he says. “And take your whores with you.”
“So I guess that truce was just… What?” I ask, too stung to put up any pretense of cool. “A ploy to get in my pants?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Devlin says. “Don’t be naïve. This was never about you.”
“Liar,” I whisper, staring up at him like he’s a stranger. He is. The boy in that room is not the same boy who stands here, not even looking at me.
Colt grins, the smile that never reaches his eyes. “Why don’t you run to daddy and have him fly you back to New York where you belong?”
“You,” I hiss, my words laced with poison. “You’re a liar, too.”
“Did you really think you could be on the same level as the Darlings?” he asks, giving me a pitying look.
“Our family has a name, a history of wealth and privilege,” Devlin says, looking past me to Duke. “We’re this town’s royalty. You think you’re rich, that you can compete with the likes of us? You’re just poor white trash playing dress-up.”
Colt pushes Dixie toward me, barely sparing her a glance. He’s speaking to me. To our family. “Go back to where you came from. You’ll never belong in this town, and you’ll never belong among the likes of the Darlings.”
Duke springs forward, but I dart between them, pressing my palm against his chest. “Let’s just go,” I say, keeping my voice low and steady. I turn back to Dixie. “Come on.”