I’m only here for one reason.
Zaya is dancing with Jake. The song is slow, but the arm he has at her waist is stiff and a little awkward, like he isn’t sure how much pressure to use. There is enough space between their bodies that a determined person could easily push in between them.
Obviously, they haven’t screwed yet.
The sense of relief I feel just annoys me even more.
Swinging Sophia into my arms like a rag doll, I glide us close enough that Zaya would have to be blindfolded not to notice us coming closer.
Hopefully, selective mutism doesn’t go along with selective blindness. I stole her voice, not her goddamn eyes.
Zaya makes a point of ignoring me, going as far as turning her head away when I get close. But I’m too attuned to her to miss the tension that tightens her shoulders and raises the little hairs on her arms. She is as aware of me as she always is.
I know, because I’m just as aware of her.
The music changes as the band picks up speed for a faster song. I watch the way Zaya moves out of the corner of my eye, her body swaying with the beat in a way that is unlike any other girl here.
I tell myself I’m watching her for a sign of weakness, some hint that it’s finally time to move in for the kill. But I try and fail to tear my gaze away.
“What’s with you?” Sophia bites out in annoyance as she follows my gaze. “I thought you were here with me.”
I swing her around, the movement fast enough that she stumbles and ends up facing away from where Zaya and Jake are dancing. “Shut up.”
I’m not surprised when she clamps her mouth shut, but just a little disappointed. Sophia has never been a challenge. If I say jump, she’ll already be in the air when she asks how high. I could tell her to suck my dick right now, and she probably wouldn’t hesitate, even with most of the town here for the show.
It’s boring. This has always been boring, but that bothers me more now than it ever has.
Maybe the problem is that everyone always assumes Sophia and I will end up together, including her. People treat us like a foregone conclusion, as if I don’t have any real choice in the matter. She thinks I don’t know that she warns other girls away from me and writes my name all over her notebooks like a lovesick idiot.
I don’t do anything because I’ve never cared enough to address it.
Maybe I saw ending up with her as a necessary eventuality, too. It wouldn’t be a terrible match, all things considered. Her family is wealthy and well-placed. She might be a vapid and vindictive idiot, but that describes most people in this town. And she isn’t too terrible to look at if you’re into that hair bleach seeping into the brain look.
But I’d never made us official, and not just because I was putting it off. I keep Sophia hanging on the hook because she makes things easy, but I’ve never really wanted her.
At least, not in any way that matters.
Whatever I feel for Zaya is too complicated to dwell on for long stretches of time. I like to focus on the simple parts. She owes me a debt, and I own her ass until it’s paid.
But now the bitch is standing in between me and my damn inheritance.
Remembering that infuriating little fact makes me want to stride across the ballroom and wrap my hands around her throat. But I don’t have to worry about that urge. When I glare over Sophia’s shoulder, there is only an empty space on the dance floor where Zaya and Jake had been.
They’re both gone.
Eighteen
“This house is ridiculous. Why does one family need all this space?”
Jake shakes his head in disbelief as we walk down a deserted upstairs hallway, his question obviously rhetorical. He stops at an impressive portrait of some Cortland ancestor from a hundred years ago that stares imperiously down at us from the wall. “My dad makes good money, but this is something else. How rich are these people?”
I shrug in answer. Not just because of the cone of silence, but I also don’t have an answer to his question. I’ve wondered, myself, just how much the Cortlands are actually worth. Grandpa used to say they were all cheats and fakes, but I don’t know how much of that was the dementia talking.
Regardless, the Cortlands have ruled like kings on the mountain since our town was founded. It really doesn’t matter how much money is actually in the bank when no one ever denies them anything.
Jake turns a corner, but I don’t immediately follow him. I recognize this part of the house. We’re about to enter the wing where the family has their bedrooms.
We definitely shouldn’t be here.
It was one thing when Jake asked if I wanted to find some place quiet. Maybe I even hoped he wanted to make out a little. But I don’t have any interest in snooping around Cortland Manor when I would never live it down if we were caught.
I’ve seen enough of this house to last a lifetime.
Jake turns back to me with a question in his eyes. I shake my head and gesture in the direction we just came, back to the party.
His smile teases me. “Aren’t you even a little bit curious?”
I just shake my head again, more resolutely this time.
But Jake doesn’t take the hint. Or if he does, he makes a conscious decision to ignore it. Grabbing my wrist, he pulls me down
