“I like to think I am,” he drawls. “I’m also Colt. Colt Darling.”
“Of course you are.”
He quirks an eyebrow, smiling wider. “So you’ve heard of me?”
“No, I meant, of course your name is Colt. I bet you wear cowboy boots with your uniform.”
“Sometimes,” he says, swishing his hair out of his eyes with a toss of his head. He’s got that lazy, easy charm, like a teen Matthew McConaughey. “So, you got a name, or should I just call you New York?”
“Crystal Dolce.”
“Sweet.”
“I assure you, I’m not.”
Colt laughs this slow, drawling laugh. “Let’s sit together.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
He gives me a lazy smile. “I’m funny, remember? I’ll make you laugh.”
“Can I laughatyou?”
“I’ll be laughing, too,” he says. “Guess you’ll have to settle for laughing with me.”
“Is that how things work around here?” I ask. “We’re either with you, or against you?”
“How else could it work?” he asks, sauntering into the classroom in that slow, easy way of his. My eyes are drawn in, captivated by the confident walk, and the next thing I know, I’m checking out his ass for a second when he’s in front of me.
This shit has got to stop. Before it begins.
He sits down at a desk and pats the one beside him.
“Why do I get the feeling I’m going to be taking someone else’s seat?” I ask. “I’m sure you don’t sit alone.”
“They’ll deal,” he says. “Sit.”
I want to disobey, but the thought of sitting alone in a class full of strangers, of enduring their stares and whispers of speculation as I did last period, has me sliding into the seat. It’s not like anyone else is going to ask me to sit with them. And as much as I hate to admit it, I’m flattered by his attention. He’s adorable, with that playful smile, drawling southern accent, and the swish of golden hair he keeps playing with.
“Good girl,” he says, squeezing my knee under the desk. The touch of his hot, calloused hand on my bare knee makes me jump, and I move my leg away, but the sensation is not exactly unpleasant. This is so not good. My brothers have already started shit with this family. Being attracted to any of them is the worst move I could make.
I’m startled by the little thrill that goes through me at the thought of defying them.
I couldn’t do that, though. We’re the Dolces. We stick together. Nothing in this world is more important than that, and there’s not a guy in this world who could come between us. Definitely not this too-charming-for-his-own-good guy who I’ve already been warned is a player who will take what he wants and leave me to pick up the shreds of my dignity.
I do my best to ignore Colt for the rest of class, a boring English lecture aboutRomeo and Juliet, which I read like ten times at my old school.
“Want me to come to your balcony tonight?” Colt asks halfway through class.
I roll my eyes and put a finger to my lips.
A second later, a piece of paper slides across his desk onto mine. Colt’s handwriting is scrawled across it, big messy letters that speak of zero effort.I hear you live next door to Devlin.
I write one word and nudge the paper back.
So?
I know where you live. I could come to your window.