Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
“Hey, can I catch a ride to the game?” Lucas follows us out of the gym. He’s become a near-constant shadow these days, but I don’t mind the company. He’s chill and keeps his eyes on his own paper. That’s good enough for me.
“Sure. But be ready to go in an hour,” I answer. “We’re swinging by Sloane’s place first.”
He looks startled. “Does the headmaster know that?”
“Nope, and I can’t be sure he’ll even let me through the door, so this should be fun.”
Lucas snickers. “Awesome.”
If it were up to me, Sloane would meet me in the parking lot and her dad would never be the wiser. But she wants, and I quote, “to test the waters.” So I’m pretending I’m just the chauffeur, and I guess she’s hoping if he doesn’t rip my head off at the mere sight of me, it’ll serve as a promising omen that one day he might actually let us date.
I don’t share in her optimism.
In the dorm I manage to bargain an essay for car keys from a guy on our floor, because I feel weird asking Silas to borrow his ride. We might be teammates, but the two of us just can’t seem to click and I’ve given up on trying.
Lucas and I pull up to the headmaster’s cottage on the outskirts of campus with eight whole minutes to spare. I am absolutely nailing this prompt and punctual shit.
Sloane is quick to answer the door, and my heart speeds up when I see her. I am such a goner for this chick. It’s like I can’t get enough of her. Since we made it official, we’ve met at our spot every day after school. I text her every morning after I open my eyes, every night before I close them, and pretty much the entire time in between, and yet it’s still not enough.
Tonight, she’s looking goddamn delicious in a red crop top and a pair of cut-offs. I can barely pry my gaze away from her legs even as I glimpse Headmaster Tresscott in the background set down a coffee mug to intervene.
“If you jump in the car now, we can ditch the kid and skip the game,” I tell her.
“Best behavior,” she scolds me with a hushed voice, as her dad approaches with a firm scowl in place.
“Where are you off to?” he demands of her, while keeping one mean eye fully trained on me.
“Sandover’s playing Ballard,” she says with an innocent daddy’s girl voice I’d find hilarious if it wasn’t so scary how well she pulls it off. “I told you.”
“You said you were going with friends.” He drills his attention squarely down on me. “I didn’t realize you and Mr. Shaw were acquainted.”
I give him a placid smile. “I’m just the driver, sir. Fenn asked if I could do him a favor.”
Tresscott hums a disapproving sound, arms crossed. As admittedly lenient as the headmaster’s been to this point, considering our last meeting, he’s made his impressions known. In his eyes, I’m the hacker ne’er-do-well who’s been expelled from every school he’s ever attended.
If I were him, I wouldn’t welcome my presence on Sloane’s doorstep either.
“Hey, Dr. Tresscott.” Cheerful as ever, Lucas nudges his way to the threshold and offers a jovial wave. “I’m the court-appointed chaperone this evening. There’ll be no mischief, shenanigans, or tomfoolery on my watch, sir.”
The headmaster’s frown dissipates instantly. Lucas has that effect on people. And turns out he’s a clutch wingman.
“Mr. Ciprian. Good to see you. I hear you’re working on an exciting robotics project for Ms. Redman’s class. I look forward to your presentation.”
“Nearly there, sir. Working out the bugs.”
As they chat, the headmaster allows us to venture deeper inside. But only as far as the foyer, where a short strawberry blonde with freckles pokes her head around the corner.
“My sister,” Sloane says, throwing her arm around Casey as she walks over. “Casey.”
I introduce myself with a nod. “RJ.”
She smiles impishly. “I know.”
I shoot a glance at Sloane. “So it’s like that. I see.”
“Being early was a good move,” Casey tells me. “Major bonus points. Keep it up.”
I tip my chin at her, chuckling. “If you’ve got any other insider tips for me, hit me up.”
Her amused grin grows wider. “I might.”
Sloane shushes her, but their father is still well distracted by Lucas’s infallible charisma. Like Fenn said, the kid belongs to the exclusive club of males not at risk of being shot on sight for crossing the property line.
Not that the headmaster isn’t justified in his precautions.
It all starts to make sense. Fenn’s inscrutable obsession with Casey. She’s gorgeous, of course. The genes in this family are fucking insane. But she also exudes this sincere gentleness and charm. I’d know better than to ruin her life if I’d passed her on the street, but Fenn is apparently caught in the throes of an identity crisis where he imagines himself someone who could lie amongst the tulips and still leave the flower beds untrampled. I doubt it, but who I am to say?