Sol.
It was the name that whispered through the hallway before morning assembly that day.
It was the name on everyone’s lips at lunch.
Days later, it’s still the buzz of Redwood Prep.
Sol is back.
The fourth member of Redwood’s elite band of brothers is the definition of ‘tall, dark, and handsome’. With his tan skin, thick, curly hair and dreamy brown eyes, Sol definitely fits the attractive meter for someone who gets to hang with The Kings.
I wonder what his deal is. He seems like a down-to-earth guy, unlike Dutch and his band of brooding, god-like brothers.
The mystery surrounding him is thick. Why was he out of school for so long? Why do The Kings—and Dutch in particular—seem extra protective of him?
Deep in thought, I walk to my locker and see someone leaning against it.
“Serena!”
She glances up. Her eyeliner is extra heavy today. The black lining emphasizes her dark circles.
“Hey, are you okay?” I grab her shoulder. “You look like you haven’t been sleeping well.”
“I’m great.” She drums up the kind of smile I used to give Vi when the rent was due and my tip money wasn’t enough to cover it. “I heard about your epic takedown. Christa’s suspended and everyone’s turned against her.” She wiggles her fingers together and gives me tiny applause. “Very impressive.”
I close my locker and join her on the path to the door.
Someone knocks hard into my shoulder. I spin around and notice a pair of cheerleaders strolling past me. They shoot me frosty looks.
“Watch where you’re going!” I yell.
One of the she-wolves tosses her hair. “Stay out of my way, Cooper.”
“Who the hell is she?” I whisper as they flounce away.
“That’s Paris. She’s on a war path right now, trying to convince everyone that she’s bigger and badder than Christa.” Serena rolls her eyes. “There’s nothing I love more than a good Redwood Prep power struggle, but she makes it so obvious that it’s boring.” Serena yawns. “That’s why betrayal is the worst.”
“Speaking of betrayal, where have you been? I haven’t seen you around Redwood Prep lately.” I push the door to the main hallway. “I had to eat lunch alone.”
Her eyes dart away. “I wasn’t feeling too well.”
“Are you better now?”
“Yeah. Much better.”
Up ahead, there’s a disturbance in the crowd. Dutch, his brothers and Sol saunter through the middle of the hallway like the kings they think they are.
My jaw clenches in annoyance when I remember Dutch manhandling me during music class.
What a jerk.
I’m learning self-defense just so the next time he backs me into a locker or a wall or an empty stairwell, I can crack his arm off.
Dutch zeroes in on me. Even though he’s a distance away, that gaze still feels intensely personal and threatening.
I refuse to cower and glare right back.
Screw him. And that tight-fitting black T-shirt under his Redwood jacket. Even with the long sleeves hiding his tats and rolling biceps, the breadth of his chest is still evident.
My eyes drift higher—to the chiseled jaw, the straight nose and the eyes of pure amber honey.
It’s infuriating how beautiful he is. If the universe was fair, people with ugly personalities would be ugly on the outside too.
Dutch’s look of challenge turns sharper and it’s like his gaze is scooping my insides and giving them a good twist.
What is he? Edward from Twilight?
Maybe.
If someone told me that Dutch Cross feasted on the blood of his victims to stay alive for centuries, I would totally believe them.
My eyes narrow. I’m not afraid of you, you black-hearted prick.
Dutch smirks as if I just invited him over.
I prepare myself for his heat and dangerous magnetism. Through the corner of my eye, I faintly notice Serena retreating to hide behind me.
“What do you want Dutch?” I spit, tilting my head up to meet his eyes.
Dutch takes something out of his backpack and shoves it at me. “My Lit homework.”
I don’t take the paper he’s offering. “What about it?”
“Do you expect me to write a five-page essay?” He motions to his brothers. “We have a gig to prepare for, so in the meantime, you’re doing my homework.”
I know he’s just trying to torture me. The way Miller behaved, I don’t think Dutch even needs to do his homework to graduate.
My smile turns sharp and pointed. I grab the document from him.
“Sure,” I say in a syrupy-sweet voice.
Serena gives me a shocked look.
Even Finn and Zane look surprised by my response.
Dutch tilts his head, studying me. He knows me too well to think that I don’t have a comeback.
I step closer to the prick until my heels are kissing his sneakers. “I would love to.”
The wicked smirk on my face must make him second-guess his move because he snatches the paper out of my hands. “What are you thinking, Brahms?”
“Nothing.” I blink coquettishly. “I’ll do your homework so well that Miss Jamieson will think you’re absolutely in love with her.”
Dutch recoils.
I grin. Our Lit teacher doesn’t kiss The Kings’ butts the way everyone else does. If anyone crosses her in class, they get punished—no matter who their parents are.
My mind is practically bursting with ideas for inappropriate content to write in the essay. I’m ready to turn in a paper that’s sure to get Dutch sent to detention.
Sol speaks up. “Didn’t you say you had practice? Do you have time for this?”
Dutch considers Sol’s words. Then he points at me. “I’ll deal with you later.”
The Kings turn the corner and disappear into the hallway that leads to their private practice room.
I let out a relieved breath, glad that he and his brothers have a gig to work on. Dutch might be a delinquent in class, but—whether he admits it or not—he takes music seriously. That’s probably the only reason I walked away from that battle unscathed.
“Well damn,” Serena says, her eyes bugging. “What was that? I thought you and Dutch were okay now?”
“He’s as psychotic as always. Right now, he has me doing his part of our group project.”
“What? And you’re going to do it?”
“I don’t want to, but if I let him tank the project, my grades will get messed up too. I refuse to let that bastard ruin my GPA.” I walk outside with her.
The sunshine is warm on my face. I tilt my head to the sun. Dutch is definitely going to get me back for defying him, but it was worth it. I feel like I just climbed a mountain.
“I’m proud of you,” Serena says, dropping an arm over my shoulder. “You’re holding your ground, even if you’re not gaining any. People around here don’t survive an attack from the Cross brothers. But you’re still here. That’s a big deal at Redwood Prep.”
I turn her assessment over in my mind. She has a point. I’ve gone toe-to-toe with Dutch already. He tried to kick me out of Redwood and I survived. Maybe there’s a part of me that’s gained a little confidence from that.
My phone buzzes.
Hunter: I’m in the parking lot.
I bite down on my bottom lip as a surge of nerves crashes into me. I’d almost forgotten that I’d agreed to meet Hunter after school today.
“My ride is here,” I tell Serena.
Her eyes crinkle. “Ooh, you got a hot date?”
“Definitely not. We’re just friends.”
“The lady doth protest too much.” She flashes a smile at me.
I wave. “I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch.”
“Have fun.”
I hustle to the parking lot. Hunter is there behind the wheel of a classic convertible.
My mouth drops. “Sweet ride.”
“Thanks. She was a fixer-upper. Worth every dime I sank into her.” He climbs out of the car and opens the door for me.
“Such a gentleman.”
“Rick would kill me if I was anything else.”
I sit in the passenger seat, my gut churning and my pulse fluttering.
Okay. This feels date-like.
“Ready to go?” Hunter asks, getting into the car and flashing me a handsome grin.
My heart pounding, I nod.
As he drives past Redwood Prep, I notice Dutch walking out of school. His amber eyes narrow when he sees me in Hunter’s car. The muscle in his jaw pops.
I feel a strange urge to hide, like I’m doing something wrong. But that’s ridiculous. I’m single and unattached. Even if I wasn’t, it’s not like I owe anyone—especially not Dutch—an explanation.
Hunter grins over at me. “Your uniform is cute.”
“Thanks.” I shake off the look on Dutch’s face and try to focus on Hunter. “What are you thinking to get for Rick?”
“I don’t know. Something he’ll actually use, I guess.” He runs a hand through his hair and then leans that hand against the door.
Hunter has tattoos too, but they’re not as chaotic as Dutch’s. His tats are of a simple angel wing along with some numbers.
“What’s our budget?” I ask.
He smirks boyishly. “Cheaper the better. I’m a lowly mechanic’s assistant, you know. We’re not rolling in the dough.”
I laugh. Hunter laughs too, his brown eyes twinkling. When the sun hits them, the color turns to warm cinnamon. Unlike Dutch’s eyes. Even in the darkness, Dutch’s eyes glow like a predator’s, golden honey with flecks of black and…
Why am I thinking about Dutch when I’m supposed to be with Hunter?
I clasp my hands together. “You smell good for someone who works with car oil all day.”
“I showered twice. And I used a new spray.” He chuckles.
I inhale. The scent flowing from him is quite aggressive. Unlike Dutch’s cool and crisp fragrance. For someone so overpowering, Dutch smells like a spring rain.
Damn it.
I’m thinking about Dutch again.
I put up a mental block and force myself to focus on Hunter for the rest of the ride.
A few minutes later, we browse around the mall. I’ve never shopped for a guy before and I’m starting to wonder if Hunter made a mistake asking for my help. I’m completely out of my element.
“Young lady, would you and your boyfriend like to try out this perfume sampler?” A clerk in front of a store waves us down.
I quickly correct her. “We’re not dating.”
She blinks. “Oh. Well… you can still check it out.”
I shake my head and we move on.
“You made that pretty clear.” Despite the playful grin on his face, Hunter stares at me intently.
I let loose a nervous chuckle. “Look over there. That store is having a sale on work boots. We should check it out.”
I’m relieved when he doesn’t pursue the topic and follows me into the shop.
Hunter’s a nice person. If anyone should be stuck like a burr in my brain, it’s him. So why can’t I kick Dutch and his obnoxious face out of my head?
“I think this’ll work,” Hunter says, dragging me out of my thoughts.
I blink rapidly and notice that he’s pointing to a pair of boots. We make the purchase and I follow him to the escalator.
“Do you want something to eat?” Hunter offers.
I check my watch. “Can’t. I’ve got a shift now.”
“I’ll drive you,” he offers.
In the car, neither of us say much. It’s not an awkward silence, but it’s definitely a sign that we’ve run out of things to talk about.
Maybe I’m getting in my own head, but—as much as it’ll disappoint Breeze—I don’t think I’ve got that kind of chemistry with Hunter.
When we get to the diner, Hunter pockets his keys and joins me on the sidewalk. “I’m going to order something for my brother to eat.”
“Oh yeah. Sure.”
He holds the door open for me and I walk inside, inhaling the smell of greasy burgers, fries, and smoke. The bells jangle as the door comes crashing closed behind us.
“What’s good here?” Hunter asks, turning to me.
I start to answer when I feel the air turn charged. The hair on the back of my neck sticks up and my heart bangs against my ribs before I’ve located the cause.
I whip my head back and forth, searching for… I’m not sure what.
But then I find it.
Or more accurately him.
Dutch and his brothers are sitting in a booth, looking straight at me.
Jinx: Cinderella Ran Away With A New Boo
Prince Charming better keep a firm grip on that glass slipper because Cinderella is running barefoot into another man’s arms. Our resident New Girl was seen hopping into a classic steed, all smiles and flirty eyes at Knight In Shining Armor. Who will win our fair lady’s heart? And will the fight on our hands be to the death? I sure hope so.
Until the next post, keep your enemies close and your secrets even closer.
– Jinx
