Bad, Bad Bluebloods (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #2)(86)
“Fine, but shit, this is stupid,” he grumbles, growling a little under his breath. “You’re going to get yourself fucking killed, Marnye.”
The scary part about his statement is that … he’s almost right.
The academic battle royale at the end of the year almost kills me. I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, and my test scores are so alarmingly close to Tristan’s that it comes down to just a few assignments. Namely, that poor essay score and test grade he earned himself by messing with me. If he hadn’t done that, he might’ve won.
“Congratulations, Marnye!” Miranda cheers, throwing her arms around my neck and giving me a squeeze. Andrew is holding balloons and chocolate, while Zack’s got a case of beer and a congrats card, and Windsor spins a freshly delivered pizza on his palm that he snatched from the end of the year pizza party in The Mess. Nobody actually hangs out at the pizza parties: students just jack food and run. The staff doesn’t even mind. Why should they? Today’s the last day of exams, and tomorrow is the official last day of school and the graduation gala.
None of us will be there however because we’ll all be on a four hour drive to Lake Tahoe, and the Royal Pointe Lakeside Lodge and Guesthouse. It used to belong to the founder of the academy, Lucas Burberry, but was gifted to the school’s foundation after his death. It’s worth over seventy-five million dollars, and houses a massive dock that’s become a hangout for the super-rich. Most of the students at Burberry have parents who keep boats there.
My friends pile into my dorm, and we pass around the pizza, beer, and sodas while a movie that nobody’s watching plays in the background. Vaguely, I wonder where the Idols are right now. The girls have backed off quite a bit since the drowning, but I don’t think that’s out of charity or because they feel bad. Oh no, I imagine things are about to get way worse for me.
Windsor lays on the bed with his head in my lap, and I get these strange tingles all over my body. I know he’s just naturally flirty and touchy-feely, and the last thing I need is another guy to worry about, but there’s something about the prince that makes me feel strange inside. Good strange, too.
Zack watches us, but he hasn’t said anything since that day in The Mess. Part of me hopes that he’s just biding his time and waiting until after the graduation getaway to make a move. The other part of me is unsure if she wants him to. Because … what about Creed or Zayd? Tristan … is a separate source of anxiety all on his own. I’m interested in him, and I have been for a while, but I didn’t want to admit it because one, he’s a total fucking asshole. And two, I can’t decide if he’s going to marry Harper to please his family or run off into the sunset with Lizzie Walton.
Either way, that doesn’t leave a lot of room for me.
I push those thoughts aside and try to enjoy myself—and my victory over Tristan because, come on, how great is that? Eventually, we all fall asleep, and I wake up a few hours later tangled up with Andrew, Miranda, and Zack. Windsor is nowhere to be seen, but when I get up to go the bathroom, I notice the door to my room is cracked, and decide to see if he’s outside.
He is, watching the sun come up. I sit beside him, and we just hang out there for a while in silence.
“You know,” he says, glancing over at me. I’m shivering a bit in the cold morning air, so he scoots closer and pulls me into his lap. The movement makes my tummy feel like I’m on a rollercoaster. “I think I might actually like it here. Usually, I stay at a school for however long it takes me to meet and date all of the girls, and then I do whatever I have to do to get kicked out.”
“Sounds pretty lonely to me,” I tell him, and he shrugs. I can smell him now, like daffodils, with undertones of ebony wood and blue cedar. I’m not sure if it’s a cologne, or just his natural scent. Either way, it gives me butterflies.
“I’ll come back here next year,” he repeats, and I smile. “I mean, at least for a short while.”
“I’d like that,” I say, and we continue to admire the sunrise.
Later, I’ll find out if the Idols are going to actually show up at the party … or stand me up. My entire future is on the line here, my dad’s health is on the line, and it’s just too much to put my faith into boys who’ve already betrayed me.
“Windsor,” I start, and he nods in acquiescence. “I don’t want to assume things are going to go badly tonight …”
“But if they do, jump in the pool and give you mouth to mouth?” he asks, and I grin.
“Yes, please.”
“Now that,” he declares, before standing me up and lifting me along with him, “was a metaphor.”
There are academy cars arranged to take students to the lake, but now that the year is over, the gig is up and everyone just wants their cars back. Andrew is so freaking sweet, and lets me drive his Lambo again, even though I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten more than my fair share of justice out of that favor.
He rides in the back with Windsor while Miranda sits in the passenger seat; Zack takes his own car, and the Idols—who are still car-less—ride with one of the other Bluebloods.
“Why aren’t you driving some fancy ass sports car?” Miranda asks, turning around to look at the prince. “You’re practically famous for buying and then wrecking the best of the best.” Windsor grins, but when I look up at the rearview mirror to see his reflection, a strange shadow crosses his face.