Being so abundantly mature, I imagine it, their nipples slipping right out from underneath those see-through teddies and landing in the grass while each one screams in horror.
Who I haven’t seen, though, are the Golden boys. My first thought is that they’ve decided to skip the festivities this time, but no sooner than I think those words—
“Who the hell are you supposed to be?” There’s a laugh in West’s deep voice when he startles me, and it grows watching my snack bag slip from my hand. I only got to eat a few pieces out of it, and now it’s in the freakin’ dirt.
When I turn, thinking I’ll only glare at him, I suddenly wish I’d kept my eyes straight ahead.
Bare chested and solid, he’s oiled all the way down to that damn V. He looks like some sort of strip-o-gram fantasy and the thought of it has me rolling my eyes at him. You don’t get to be a complete ass and sexy, too. Just isn’t right.
He’s dressed as Egyptian royalty—black and gold, striped headdress that rests on his shoulders and matches our school colors. Then, a black kilt-like thingy, trimmed in gold. On his feet, a pair of black and gold sneakers that don’t go with his digs, but somehow make him look even hotter. I’m willing to bet that what’s on his feet costs more than my house.
I peer out across the cemetery and spot Dane and Sterling already raising hell, both wearing the exact same getup.
Freakin’ hot douche bags. All three of them.
At Dane’s side, and dressed as Cleopatra, is Joss. Her braids are down tonight, and they look like part of the costume. She’s so pretty it hurts, and I always get the impression Dane thinks so, too. I also find myself hating Joss least of all, because she seems mostly neutral.
Not any help, but not so much part of the problem.
“You gonna answer me or just pretend I’m not standing here?” West perks up again.
He sounds less … venomous than usual. Almost happy.
Almost.
“Aren’t nightmares supposed to disappear if you ignore them?” I shoot back, sipping my water, because it’s all I have left.
In my peripheral, I see the gleam of white teeth when he smiles. “Come on. Don’t be like that.”
I scoff and roll my eyes, but don’t engage.
“How’s Scarlett?” he dares to ask next, and this time, his comment has earned him a hard glare from me.
“Don’t ask about her. Or anyone else in my family,” I clarify.
The sound of West’s quiet laughter grates my nerves, but I hide it.
“Damn, Southside! You always such a bitch?”
“Only in the presence of other bitches,” I shoot back.
He’s still laughing, which nearly makes me smile. Only a freak would laugh at being called out of their name.
Something’s happening inside me. There’s this buzzing, some kind of energy that goes haywire when West is around. As much as I’d like to think it’s all bad, that would be a lie. The part of me that’s twisted like my mother sort of enjoys the raw, unbridled interaction, neither of us the least bit concerned with niceties or holding our tongues.
Whatever comes to mind, we just say it—sharp edges and all.
“You know what I think?” West asks, cutting into my thoughts as I watch Lexi from a distance. Her hands just shot up into the air, which means she’s still on a winning streak.
“What’s that?”
“I think you hate that your sister actually likes me,” he shares. “You hate that I got inside her head, but most of all, you hate that she missed it.”
My gaze leaves Lexi now, landing solely on West as the dim light of the lantern beside us outlines his pecs.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, already feeling heat seep beneath my skin.
He smirks again but takes a swig from his drink before answering. “She missed that I’m not one of the good guys.”
A surge of air fills my lungs and I’m looking at him, but not seeing him. Instead, my mind goes back to that night, the block party. I envision how Scar lit up at the sight of him, and even more so when he dropped a hundred-dollar bill into her jar.
“And what you hate even more,” West adds, “…is that you missed it.”
I feel sick to my stomach. Because … he’s right.
I did let him slip under the radar. My first impression—even my second impression—was all wrong. He’s nothing like that scorching hot exterior suggests. Inside, he’s nothing but emptiness, haunted corridors, and darkness.
Just like me.
“When are you gonna just admit it?” he asks with a humorless laugh.
My brow gathers. “You care an awful lot about what I think, while what you should be worried about is your girlfriend staring us down like she wants to set us both on fire,” I shoot back.
At those words, West’s gaze wanders across the graveyard to where Parker’s glaring with the heat of a thousand suns burning in her eyes. I don’t hate that it gets under her skin seeing West standing so close. Bitch deserves it.
“Fuck Parker,” he says with immeasurable disgust.
Caught off guard by how boldly he’s just spoken, I snap a look in his direction.
“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” he continues with a widening grin, “you ready to admit it?”
Frustrated for too many reasons to name, I roll my eyes. “Admit what, West?”
“That you want me,” he answers quickly. “That you made a mistake turning me down a few weeks ago.”
He’s so focused on this conversation that he’s turned to face me full-on now. I also notice he hasn’t blinked even once since I peered up at him.
My heart does this weird thing I can’t explain, but I give nothing away, keeping my expression even.
“Well, I suppose I’ll admit all that around the same time you admit you’re an ass and have secretly wanted me, since day one. So, I guess that would be, mmm … never?”
Laughing at the ridiculousness
