“Impartial judges? And just where do you think that we’re going to find those at a school where Quinn is the king?” This is the taller art student. He leans forward a bit when speaking, but I only catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. I just can’t pull my gaze from Quinn.
He’s obviously considering what I’ve said. His perfect face looks calm, but his eyes are stormy, and I know that he’s not sure what to say. Before I can gloat about this, though, he speaks. “Good thinking. I wouldn’t want someone to give you any help because they feel bad for you, Abigail. It sucks to be new, but it must suck more to be a pathetic little virgin.”
He reaches out his hand before I have a chance to really think about what he’s said. I hear Madeline suck in a breath, but I grab his hand and shake it. It’s the first time that we’ve touched since lunch, and there’s a spark of electricity that passes between us.
I don’t know if he feels it, but it feels like something magnetic holding us together. I squeeze his hand, but his muscles are so strong that there’s no way I could ever make him uncomfortable.
“I can’t wait to show you that you’re not the best painter at Trinity Prep.” We’re still holding hands, and I release his, but he squeezes me tighter, not letting me pull back.
His eyes are locked onto mine, and for a moment, everything around us falls away. Even though we’re in the middle of a loud and busy cafeteria, all that I can hear and see is him. He’s perfect, with a pouty mouth that I want to kiss and cheekbones that I want to carve from stone.
This man can not be my muse, but I feel it happening already.
“I can’t wait to show you what happens to little girls who think that they’re better than everyone else. My friend called me the king, Abigail, but there’s something that you need to understand. I’m no king. Kings are fair and impartial. They look out for their people and do everything they can to help them.”
He pauses and I shiver involuntarily. I suddenly want to pull my hand back more than anything, but he tightens his grip, holding me in place.
“I’m a god,” he continues. “I’m the fucking god of Trinity Prep, Abigail, and you’ve pissed me off. I’m not the kind of god to sacrifice his son. I’m looking for people to sacrifice for me, so you better be ready to throw your body on the fucking altar.”
Chapter Five
Of course, I can’t get away from Quinn. No matter how much I try to avoid him, we have multiple classes together, and I have to see him all afternoon while we work on our paintings. We’re even still sitting next to each other in class because Mr. Stanfield thought that it would be a good idea for him to help guide me since I’m new.
Even though I do my best not to talk to him, I can’t help but shake the way he looked into my eyes and the way my skin felt when he held my hand on Monday. Since then, I’ve spent all of my free time working on my painting, but I have a feeling that it’s not going to be up to par.
In the art room, we each have our own areas for working. There are partitions that can be moved as well as cloth curtains that can easily be opened or closed to give us as much privacy as we want, but I still feel exposed working.
That’s because everyone at Trinity Prep has heard about our bet and they keep leaning in to see what I’m doing. It’s after the fifth person has popped in their head to check on me that I can’t handle it any longer.
I rip off my smock and throw my brushes on the table, splashing turpentine in the process, but I don’t care. Sighing heavily, I leave my space, pulling my curtain shut tightly behind me before stalking up to the front of the room.
“Listen up!” I have to yell to make sure that everyone can hear me since they’re all working in different areas of the room. Mr. Stanfield is at his desk, but he leans back in his chair, an amused look on his face. “I’m tired of you guys coming in to see my work! You’ll all get to see in tomorrow afternoon, okay?”
Quinn slowly makes his way up from the back of the room where he has the largest workspace in the corner. I’ve been doing my best not to interact directly with him, but he has his eyes locked on me as he slowly winds his way between students up to the front.
“You don’t want to give them a little taste of what you have going on? I know that I’d love one.” He licks his lower lip and winks at me, and I immediately know what he’s talking about. I’ve never had someone after my virginity like this before, and I’m not sure that I like it.
“The bet was that we have until tomorrow.” I know that he’d love to get a peek behind my curtain, but I really don’t want him to see what I’m working on. No matter how confident I can pretend to be, I have a very strong feeling that his work is going to be better than mine. I shouldn’t be even the least bit excited about what that will mean for me, but part of me can’t help it.
I’m only human, after all, and he was definitely formed by the hands of an artistic god.
Quinn shrugs but doesn’t take his eyes off of
