Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals, #1)(24)

“You don’t.” I stop walking, crossing my arms over my chest. I feel utterly exposed—but it isn’t my clothes flapping in the wind. It’s my soul.

He tilts his head. “Why on earth would you think that? You want me. Your heart beats for me.” He keeps walking. “Hell, I ignore you for a week, and you look tortured—”

“I’m more tortured when you do pay attention to me,” I mutter.

“I kiss Savannah and you flinch. I kiss you and you get wet.” He glances at me out of the corner of his eye.

Is he checking to see if I’m blushing? Because I am. My face is on fire.

“You’ve been mine since we were kids.”

I know.

“The only difference between now and then?” He unlocks his car. In the silence, he smirks at me. “Go ahead, ask.”

I’m too tired to fight. “What’s the difference?”

“Now, I don’t really give a fuck about… any of it.”





11





You’ve been mine since we were kids.

He drags me to a party. Well, he drives there and then disappears inside, letting me sit in the car and contemplate public suicide. Eventually, I work up the nerve to walk in the front door. I’m surprised at the loudness of the music. The neighbors must riot.

I can’t be afraid. Small. I push my shoulders back and inhale, vowing not to take shit from anyone. Hell, if Caleb is the one to bring me here, I’ll make sure people know it. With that in mind, I search for him.

He’s in the kitchen with a red cup in his hand. He lifts it toward me, dark gaze lingering on my throat, but I shake my head. Getting drunk is the opposite of a good impression on the new family. I’d love to walk in there just before midnight, sober as a nun.

Eh, that probably won’t happen.

Riley and Eli come in with a flood of other people, and she makes a beeline toward me. She hooks her arm around my neck, pulling me close. “Sorry. Eli said you guys weren’t able to go. I didn’t know. Ooh, is that a keg?”

She releases me and grabs a cup.

“Margo, are you drinking?”

“No,” I say. “I—”

“Little Miss Perfect doesn’t drink?” Savannah saunters into the room, wearing far less clothing than I would’ve imagined for mid-September. “Surprise, surprise.”

I shake my head and turn away. Pretty sure I haven’t done anything to deserve the title Little Miss Perfect, especially since I’ve only been at Emery-Rose for three weeks.

She’s not worth the hassle. Not to mention, Caleb still has my phone hostage, and Riley has disappeared.

Savannah grabs my arm. “Margo.”

I twist back to her, tilting my head. “Can I help you with something?”

“Stay out of my way, would you?” She releases my arm, taking a sip of beer. She watches me over the rim.

All I can do is shrug. “Not sure what you mean, Sav.”

“I mean—”

Liam comes in the room. “Sav,” he greets her. He eyes me.

I don’t back down. I haven’t had a true interaction with him, and I’m desperate to make a strong impression on someone.

“Good game, Liam,” Savannah says. “That pass at the end? Brilliant.”

I roll my eyes. I’m surprised their coach let him play after he and Caleb fought. He has a bruise on his cheekbone that looks like smudged dirt.

“You miss it, Margo?” he asks.

Savannah sniffs. “She wouldn’t go to a game.”

I shift my weight. “Well, I was supposed to meet Riley there, but…” My gaze goes past Liam to Caleb. Do I want to admit that Caleb and I had a weird moment at the park instead of going to the game? Not in front of Savannah, that’s for damn sure.

“See? Lame,” she says to Liam. “I’m surprised Applebottom showed her face with Eli.”

Liam shrugs. “I’ve got no part of that, Sav. And I’m not much for gossip. Excuse us.” He takes my arm and steers me away, deeper into the house.

“What are you doing?”

“Talking to you.”

I point at the bruise. “Is that from Caleb?”

He grunts, finding an empty room and gesturing for me to enter. He closes us in and leans against the door. “So. Margo.”

“Liam.”

He rolls his eyes. “What’s up with you and Caleb? Guy’s been acting cagey since you showed up. No offense, but do we have to worry about him being off his game?”

“His game, as in…”

“Lacrosse,” he snaps. “Special practice starts in a month. He’s the captain. If you’re fucking him—”

“He started it,” I interrupt, willing my face to not turn red. “I’m not really sure why you’re talking to me. I try to stay away from him.” Without success, I don’t add. Sometimes I feel like Caleb is attached to me by an invisible string.

I cross my arms. “Let’s just say, for example, Caleb saw you bring me in here. Should we test this theory?” I gesture for him to move away from the door and glance at my watch. “He’s going to—”

The door flies open. Caleb’s gaze swings between Liam and me, and all the space between us. His scowl deepens. “What the fuck?”