Bad, Bad Bluebloods (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #2)(81)

Miranda, too, is acting a bit strange, asking me all sorts of questions about what I’m doing with the guys. She’s not dumb enough to think I’ve actually forgiven them, but to her credit, I think she may be a tad worried about what I might do to her twin. I give her the best answers I can, and hope she can forgive me when the time comes.

The following weekend, Miranda tells me that Creed’s stolen the key to the athletics center, so he can use the hot tub. Technically, it’s just for student athletes who need the heat to soak sore muscles, and its use has to be approved by the school nurse.

When I find him in there, he’s just lounging in the bubbles with his eyes closed. I say nothing, tossing my towel onto the steps, and climbing in. He hears the splash of my foot hitting the water, and groans.

“Miranda, I said you could use it later. What part of—” He stops talking as he opens his eyes and sees me there, submerged to my knees and standing on the circular bench seat. I lower myself into the heat as Creed’s lids droop to their usual half-mast status. “Well, hello there.” The guy sounds so relaxed and cavalier, like he hasn’t a care in the world. I wish my life were like that. Pretty sure his isn’t either, but at least he puts up a good front.

“You don’t mind if I join you, right?” Creed shrugs his pale shoulders, and I can’t quite keep my gaze from tracing down to the fine planes of his chest. He really has a beautiful body. “You’re not dating anyone right now, are you?”

“What would you care?” he replies smoothly, but not in a cruel way. This is just how he is, insouciant and lazy and haughty.

“Just curious if there might be some angry Blueblood girl after me for being half-naked in a hot tub with her boyfriend,” I say, and one of Creed’s brows goes up.

“Half-naked?” he says, narrowing his eyes to slits. “If you think I’m only half-naked under all of these bubbles, you’re more na?ve than I thought.”

My mouth gapes as Creed smirks at me, and my eyes immediately drop down to try and catch a glimpse … Guess he decides that vague references aren’t enough, and stands up, flashing me his full, um, glory. Holy freaking crap, I think as Creed moves around the bench to sit close to me. We’re not quite touching, but it feels like it, especially knowing he’s not wearing anything at all.

“And if you get caught in here by a staff member?” I choke, trying to avoid thinking about the nice, hard length of his dick … No. No, no, no. Forcefully, I yank my mind from the gutter.

“Then I’ll stand up, flash them, and they’ll be so uncomfortable at seeing a student’s cock, they’ll let me off with a mark or two.” He’s so full of himself, it makes me want to pick. But that’s not what I’m here for. I’m trying to rebuild the relationship we had last year. “What I want to know is why you’re here, and your boyfriend isn’t.”

“Boyfriend?” I ask, and I think of Windsor a split-second before Zack. Why or how that happens, I’m not sure, but it pisses me off. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You just kiss Zack Brooks for fun?”

“I kissed you for fun last year,” I say, and it’s the wrong subject to bring up because Creed goes immediately silent. We sit there together in the heat and the bubbles, both staring in different directions. When he looks back at me, he tucks his fingers under his chin and stares me down like he’s interrogating me.

“Why are you talking to me anyway? You said you missed me. Fine. But don’t pretend you’re over what happened.”

“I punished you,” I tell him, and he cringes. He knows I’m talking about the journal, and about the email to his mother. “We’re even now. I want to move on, Creed. Your sister is my best friend, and your mom is my sponsor, and … we had a lot of fun together, didn’t we?” He says nothing, just stares at me. “What I’m trying to figure out is when it changed for the three of you. At first, I could tell you truly hated me for who I was and what I stood for. But I think that after you made that bet and started spending time with me, things changed. Now I’m wondering if you three are pushing me away this year to protect me.”

Creed snorts, but he doesn’t respond, and I’m feeling suddenly worked up, like I’m onto something.

“That’s why you’re being standoffish and weird and mean, but it’s also why you haven’t come at me with everything you’ve got. Some part of you, even if it’s buried deep down … maybe doesn’t hate me quite so much as you want to?”

He ignores me, but I’m suddenly shaking and sweating all at once. It’s true, isn’t it? As hard of a time as I’m having feigning interest without feeling true feelings, they had the same problem last year. This fucking sucks. If my dad’s health weren’t on the line, if my career at Burberry wasn’t … would I stop the bet with Harper now? It suddenly feels like overkill. I’m almost glad there’s no way to back out of it. These boys need their lesson to come full circle.

“The girls aren’t going to stop until you’re irreparably damaged,” Creed says, sighing. He glances over at me and his lids open more than usual, exposing those gorgeous blue eyes of his. He takes me in appreciatively. “You’ve caught the attention of the Infinity Club, Marnye.” Oh god, he just called me Marnye. “Leave, and stop torturing us.”