Mayhem At Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #3)(5)

“Get dressed, my queen,” he says, looking at me for the briefest of moments with pure tenderness in his expression. He closes his eyes, as if to regain his composure. When he opens them, they’re sharp with cunning and thick with violence. “We have a big day ahead of us, after all.” He releases me and turns to head for the shower, dropping the robe with—likely—the sole purpose of flashing me that muscular ass of his.

Dick.

Then again, when I close my eyes, I can hear his wedding vows in my head. The words were whispered softly against my ear as he moved inside of me with deep, slow strokes, loving and rife with romantic intent.

“Bernadette, you are the driving force behind everything I do. You always have been. I can’t thank you enough for that. Without you, I wouldn’t have had a reason. A reason to live. A reason to fight. A reason to succeed. You’re the oxygen in my blood and the electricity that makes my heart beat.”

My cheeks flush as I shake my hands out.

There’s a reason Victor didn’t want to say his vows aloud at the wedding.

They were meant for me and me alone.

But … are mine supposed to stay secret?

Because I’m not certain that I’m meant for him and him alone.





“Callum scared the fuck out of some kids at the aquarium,” Aaron says, pulling into the parking lot that edges the beach. It’s winter in Oregon, so not ideal beach-going weather, but then, it never really is. Saying beach is a bit misleading; coast would be more appropriate. The water is always too cold to swim in, but on a warm day, you can enjoy the surf teasing your ankles.

It’s sunny out and we’re renting dune buggies. I’ve never done that before, despite the fact that Newport is a mere two hours from Springfield, an easy getaway spot for local families. Pamela has never taken me anywhere. I hear talk that Penelope and I went to Disney World once when I was three. But then, I have no memory of that, so does it matter? Besides, if I had to make a bet, I’d say my dad was responsible for such a trip.

Pam just isn’t the type to take two little girls on a kiddie vacation.

Anyway, renting a dune buggy for eight hundred bucks a day is such a Fuller High thing to do. Oak Valley brats probably own the company that manufactures the fucking things. Prescott kids … usually just steal them.

“How so?” I ask, raising a brow as I glance over my shoulder at the girls. They’re strapped into the bench seat together, with Heather in the middle. Victor looked like he was going to burst a vein in his neck when I told him I was riding in the Bronco with Aaron. But then he looked at Heather, her eyes narrowed, mouth turned down in a deep frown, and he knew he had little choice.

If my little sister doesn’t like Vic, we’re going to have problems.

“He hid behind the shark tank and leapt out!” Heather explains, her green eyes lighting up with joy. “We thought it was funny, but he made a little girl cry.” She grins big, but then her smile fades and she narrows her eyes at me. “You would’ve seen it if you’d been at the aquarium. Aren’t you and Vic bored in the hotel room all day?”

“I, uh,” I start, trying to wonder how I ended up essentially becoming the parent to an eight-year-old. “We’re on our honeymoon, Heather.” She wrinkles her nose at me and leans over to whisper something in Kara’s ear. They both giggle as they stare back at me, and I raise an eyebrow. “Do you want to fill me in on what’s going on?” I ask as Aaron chuckles and shuts the Bronco’s engine off.

“All I said was that you were probably kissing all over each other,” Heather quips, giving me this sassy little look that reminds me of, well, me. She really thinks she’s figured me and Vic out. God help her that she doesn’t ever understand us. I want her to spend her life with someone … normal. Painfully normal, really.

“Oh, you guessed it,” I say, and all three girls groan and roll their eyes as I open the door and hop out onto the sand-covered pavement. The wind swirls my hair around my face as I stare out at the nearly-empty beach with a peaceful sigh.

This is what we all needed: normalcy.

“There’s certainly a lot of sand here,” Oscar says, sitting on the hood of the Camaro in a black t-shirt and long, dark shorts. It’s so weird to see him wear anything but a suit; it always catches me off-guard. Remember how you saw him naked and vulnerable above you? How he made love to you and then ran off like a colossal prick? Did that catch ya off-guard, too, Bernie?

The girls take off past me, squealing and kicking off their shoes as Aaron struggles to keep up with them, yelling warnings about staying away from the water. I turn to Oscar with an angry fire burning in my belly.

“Yeah, it’s a beach,” I snap, drawing his attention around and over to me. It’s only been nine days since we ruined Aaron’s couch together; it feels like a fucking lifetime. And yet, I’m still furious over the whole situation. I know we’re both trying to pretend it didn’t happen, but I only know my own motivations for doing that: I’m embarrassed. That was an intimate moment to share with someone, and Oscar ruined it for me by running off and refusing to tell me what was wrong. “Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one? Because you sound fucking stupid right now.”

Oscar scowls at me, breaking that placid asshole look he enjoys wearing as a mask on his handsome face. I feel a spark inside at his expression though. I mean, it’s proof that he’s feeling something, right?