The Peer and the Puppet (When Rivals Play, #1) (56)

Jamie grinned, and I shoved him back. “Shut the fuck up.” To Vaughn, I said, “Where did they go?”




Tyra lived just outside of Blackwood Keep with her father where the cost of living was astronomically lower.

Jamie had ditched us to hook up with one of the cheerleaders while Vaughn and I found ourselves outside of Coach Bradley’s home.

“You don’t think this is a little much?” I questioned.

He shrugged and moved onto the porch. “We’re already here.”

As soon as we reached the front door, it opened to show a pissed-off Tyra. She was tiny as shit, barely looked more than a hundred pounds, and the bangs she wore made her look twelve instead of seventeen, but she glared at Vaughn as if she were twice his size and height. He stared back down at her with unchecked cockiness. I had to admit she was beautiful with her smooth dark skin, large brown eyes, and sable hair. Vaughn, along with every red-blooded male at Brynwood, was still kicking himself for letting her escape his notice this long. Knowing the sharks were circling, waiting for his scraps, he definitely wouldn’t be tossing her back into the water anytime soon.

“You can’t just show up here,” she fussed. “My dad is upstairs sleeping.”

“I gave him an expensive bottle of scotch from my dad’s cellar. He drink it?” Coach always celebrated a win by drinking heavily after, and it seemed Vaughn had exploited that fact. I would have laughed except I knew it wouldn’t be appreciated by Four’s little friend.

“There was half a bottle left on the kitchen counter.”

“Then he isn’t waking up anytime soon.” Without another word or permission, he pushed past her and disappeared into the house.

I stood there feeling awkward as shit until she sighed and said, “I guess you can come in, too.”

“Thanks.”

She stepped aside and quietly shut the door once I was inside. I looked around, but when I didn’t spot Four, I glanced over my shoulder.

“She’s in the kitchen,” she offered.

I didn’t hesitate once she pointed me in the right direction. I found my new obsession half-heartedly mixing cake batter in a large glass bowl with my jacket discarded on the stool next to her. Vaughn was sitting at the island dipping his finger into a smaller bowl filled with frosting.

Tyra marched into the kitchen and snatched the bowl away, but Vaughn simply pulled her into his lap. He spread the frosting on her neck and proceeded to suck it off right there in front of us.

“Vaughn Franklin Rees, you’re embarrassing me!”

“I knew I shouldn’t have told you my middle name,” he said with a low growl before licking the last of the frosting from her skin. “This is good buttercream, Ty-ty.”

Four was mixing the batter faster now to likely drown out the sound of my friend molesting hers.

I cleared my throat. “Is there somewhere you can take that?”

Tyra glared at me while Vaughn stood with a grin. “Absolutely.”

“I need to help Four finish the cake,” Tyra protested.

“Ever can help her.” Vaughn glanced between Four and me. “We wouldn’t want to make his birthday girl uncomfortable.”

“Vaughn,” I warned.

He shrugged and stood with Tyra in his arms before carrying her out of the kitchen.

A moment later, we heard Tyra screech, “No, not upstairs. My dad!”

The sound of Vaughn’s heavy footsteps running up the stairs followed, and then a door slammed.

Four sighed, the first peep she had made since I walked through the door, and turned to me. “You do know that what you did was idiotic, right?”

I shrugged. I wouldn’t brag because it was pretty fucking stupid, and I no longer had the excuse of being only thirteen anymore.

“Ever heard of Greg Plitt?”

“No.”

“He was a celebrity fitness trainer who died earlier this year. Want to know how?”

“No.”

She ignored me and said, “Plitt was killed trying to outrun a train for some stupid energy drink commercial.”

“Yeah, well I had something he didn’t.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that, hot shot?”

“You.”

We both noticed her blush but neither of us spoke on it.

“Can you take me home?” she requested timidly.

“What about your cake?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t think she’ll be done up there anytime soon,” she grumbled.

I had the feeling it was more than just the unfinished cake that upset her. “You don’t approve.” When she shot me a quizzical look, I gestured upstairs. “Vaughn and your little friend.”

“Her name is Tyra, and I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t know him.”

“Which is obviously why I don’t trust him,” she countered.

“Doesn’t matter if you do or don’t. They’re having fun, and it’s not any of your business.”

“It will be when she’s crying on my shoulder.”

“You assume she’ll be the one hurt. Why?”

She shifted her weight onto her hands planted on the countertop. “Last week, two girls were suspended for fighting because they thought they had a claim on him.”