“You know, wecouldditch the dining hall and hop into Brooklyn’s SUV and drive into the city for a dinner at Santo’s on the patio.” I know they won’t want to do that, but it’s the type of suggestion I would have made last year, so I play the part. I don’t really want to drive into the city either. But I’m not exactly looking forward to the Welles campus dining hall.
“Pretty sure my food plan doesn’t cover Santo’s,” Lily says with a light laugh.
I squeeze her arm with mine and lean into her closer.
“My treat,” I say with a wink. “But maybe next time.”
I replay that small interaction for the rest of the walk to the dining hall. I hope I didn’t make Lily feel out of place. She’s not from a family like ours, one with stupid amounts of disposable income and little regard for how we spend. She’s practical and frugal and talented with the way she competitively swims. I’d trade places with her in a heartbeat. Though I’m not so sure I want the broken heart I see written all over her face.
Theo Rothschild, Anika’s brother, is the first person we see when we walk into the dining hall. He and his friends enter from the other side, and in a matter of seconds, Lily and Theo have a thousand wordless conversations with one simple glance, a look that leaves Lily looking at the floor and pale as a ghost. Anika made me promise not to tell, but she told me how much Lily likes Theo. It’s clear she was right about it being more than a crush, too. Anika set them up the night our lives were all ruined, and now she’s not here to fix it.
I’m rushing toward Theo before my brain has a chance to sort through the consequences of what I’m doing. If Anika isn’t here, then maybeIcan fix this one thing for Lily. Theo and I are close. Our families have been close for years. I know him, better than a lot of people. Theo is holding in so much anger over his sister’s death, and he’s putting it on Lily’s shoulders. If I can somehow untangle that for them, get them to lean on each other rather than fight, maybe I’ll feel better, too. What a selfish way to get to a kind gesture.
I’m steps away from Theo when my gaze shifts to his left and I’m hit with hazel eyes, brown wavy hair, and what looks to be about six-foot-two of broad chest, contoured biceps and full lips that slowly stretch into a smile as I stare at them.
“Theo, who’s your friend,” I say, sliding into Theo’s side and hugging him with one arm. My instant distraction by a guy IknowI have never seen before has me forgetting the reason I came over here in the first place.Refocus, Morgan. It’s not about you. It’s about Lily, and . . . oh my God, this man smells so good.
“Morgan Bentley, meet the new Welles QB,” Theo says.
Of course, he’s the quarterback. I mean,look at him!I bet Toby, who was our mediocre quarterback last year, is shitting himself at the sight of this guy. He’s twice his size, and judging by the way his arms ripple with the slightest flex of his forearms, I’m guessing he can sling the ball about twice as far.
My hand shoots forward toward our new quarterback on reflex. At least my social self hasn’t forgotten how to do some things. His mouth ticks up on one side and my heart pounds out about a dozen beats in a single second before his hand wraps around mine, swallowing it up. His grip is perfect—warm hand, no sweat, firm but gentle in just the right way. His nails are well groomed, which means he gives a shit about how he looks. The calluses on his palm tell me he works his ass off.
“James Fuentes, and I don’t have the job quite yet,” he says in a low voice with just a hint of rasp. He glances from me toward Theo. He’s being modest, probably because he doesn’t want word to get back to Toby.He’s not just gorgeous, but he’s nice and respectful.
Theo leans into me with a soft chuckle and I tilt my head so he can whisper into my ear.
“His dad’s the coach.”
I flash a glance to Theo at the news. His eyes fall slightly, I’m guessing because he didn’t think through what his commentary would mean to me. Brennan Wallace was the coach at Welles for several years, until I got him fired. According to the paper trail, he resigned on his own. According to the rumor factory that is Welles Academy, he was let go for having an affair with one of his students . . .me.Nobody has uttered my name out loud, at least not in a circle that I would hear. But they don’t have to say my name. It’s in the little things, like the off-handed comments about my taboo tastes.But the truth is, Coach Wallace was the kindest man I’ve ever met, and he listened to me the way I always wished my father would. When I was in a truly dark place, his was the open door I needed to keep my head above water. We were close, but not the kind of close that gossipy, privileged youths salivate over. He was a friend—a father figure. And helping me got him fired.
I swallow down the lump in my throat and roll my shoulders, straightening my spine. The smile I force is the biggest test of my life. If James hasn’t heard the rumors yet, he will soon. And being the coach’s son makes anything with him . . .complicated.
“James, nice to meet you. You boys come sit with us. Lily’s holding the big table near the windows.”Lily. That’s the reason I started this conversation. To help Lily. Not myself.
I glance to my friend, who looks terrified. Lily’s not as rehearsed at masking her emotions as the rest of us. That’s a trait learned from years spent at country clubs and dinner parties where the only purpose seems to be trying to one-up each other.
“We’d love to,” Theo says, his jaw rigid. I wonder if he regrets giving in so fast or is doubling down, determined to make this meal miserable for Lily. I won’t let that happen. I can do this one thing. I note his reaction, tucking it away into my mental file the way Anika would have. Theo’s not as angry with Lily as he thinks he is. He’s drawn to her. He needs her. They honestly need each other.
We all do.
I follow Theo into the cafeteria line, eying him as he aggressively fills his tray. He takes two apples, and I’m about to question his motive when an elbow nudges my other side.
“Give it to me straight. Is this stuff any good?” James points toward the pasta salad with a gaping hole scooped from the center and tongs resting along the top.
“Depends. Do you like your colon?” I twist my mouth and glance up. I expect to be struck by his eyes first, because that’s the first thing I noticed when we met minutes ago. But my lame joke makes him laugh, and it turns out that as sexy as his sharp jawline, narrow nose, and chameleon eyes are, it’s the combo of smile and breathy laugh that legit stops my heart and sends a rush of tingles down to my belly.
“So, I’m guessing it’s a pass on anything with tongs?” He quirks a brow. Also fucking adorable. If every expression is going to be like this, I’m doomed.
“Pretty much,” I answer, flashing a smile of my own.
My usual move is to get coy, to bat my lashes and lick my lips, drawing attention right where I want it. But something grips me from inside, a faint echo in my mind telling me not to go down that road. I hover for a few extra seconds, and it’s not until James flits his eyes over my head that I realize I’m holding up the end of the line.
“Oh, sorry,” I say, turning and squeezing my eyes shut while admonishing myself for acting like a pre-teen with a crush. This is not my normal mode of flirting. I’m thrown, and I’m not sure whether it’s because he’s so goddamn good looking or because I feel guilty indulging after giving myself the little “be a better person” pep talk before we came to dinner.
I renew my vow to help Lily and Theo when I get to the table in time to see Theo basically force his extra apple on Lily. He’s such an idiot. I’m sure he’s telling himself he’s giving her that apple to tease her and be a dick, but really, he doesn’t like that she’s not eating. None of us do, and he’s as worried as we are. But he’s too busy fronting to accept it. He’d rather be mean than feel something good about someone else.
“Fine. Starve.” Theo ends his apple incident with Lily by pouting as I take my seat across from him. I shoot him a glare and don’t let up until he glances up and sees it. I get an eyeroll, which lights that fire I get sometimes. I mash my lips together into a pissed-off smile and will my mouth to remain shut.