A low, smooth voice at my back has the baby hairs on my neck lifting. The minions’ attention snaps to behindme.
Uniforms are an attempt to make everyone look the same. In this case, they come up short. All three guys coming down the stairs toward us are good looking, but one stands out. You’d feel this guy’s magnetism in ablackout.
He’s tall, with ropy arms his navy jacket can’t hide, and broad enough he could carry the entire school’s baggage without breaking a sweat. He has an angled jaw and cheekbones, brown eyes a little too serious to be kind, and dark, wildhair.
If Kellan is this school’s preppy king, Tyler Adams is its rebel prince. He has the easy grace earned by being a senior, gorgeous, and amusician.
When he speaks, everyonelistens.
When he plays the guitar, everyoneworships.
“Tyler,” Carly breathes. “Wanna give me a ridehome?”
I don’t wait around for the answer but use the distraction to dodge all of them and head to mycar.
I want to get the hell out of this toxic place before I burn itdown.
I shift into my silver Audi, turning the key in theignition.
It doesn’tstart.
My forehead falls to the steering wheel as I remember the minions’ black-streaked arms. They probably rummaged under the hood for the shiniest parts to stab at with their manicuresets.
“The Little Mermaid. A girl who has everything but it’s still notenough.”
My attention snaps toward the guy leaning in the passenger window, and I immediately regret leaving itdown.
If Tyler Adams and my co-star Kellan share top billing on the “senior boys every junior girl would give their BMW to bang” list, it’s for differentreasons.
Kellan’s full of charm, the golden boy who comes from money and radiates ease and promises of goodtimes.
Tyler’s gorgeous. Talented. Mysterious. He comes from nothing and doesn’t blink before takingeverything.
But no matter how fascinating he is, it’s alie.
“Being the daughter of a king doesn’t mean her life is perfect,” I answer at last. “If you think so, you’re dumber than youlook.”
He rubs a hand through his dark hair, the chunk of blue at the front that sets him apart. “But you told me I had a great future. You put on a scarf and held my hand and ogled my fateline.”
“It was a charity carnival. I wasfourteen.”
“I paid five bucks for that spiritual advice. Don’t tell me I wastedit.”
I hit the start button once more. It makes a grinding noise until I slap a hand against thedash.
Please, don’t let me be stranded atschool.
When I blink my eyes open, Tyler’s nodding through the windshield, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, the jacket alreadygone.
I don’t want Tyler Adams under my hood. But if I have to call my dad, it’ll invite questions as to why my almost-new car won’tstart.
So, I pop the hood before rounding to the trunk for my toolkit, dropping it at his feet after I find it. Tyler yanks off his loosened tie and holds itout.
I take the tie from him, draping it around my neck forsafekeeping.
I don’t notice his height, his hard body, the careless way he rubs a hand over his neck as he surveys what’s under my hood with a relentlessintensity.
“You know why Carly fucks withyou.”