I gave Lance a brief smile before sitting down at the table and taking a bite of the omelet. It was delicious. He’d even added bell pepper, my favorite.
Lance leaned on the kitchen island, his sleeves rolled up and his hair still a mess from sleep. “You excited?” he asked. I chewed the food in my mouth until it turned to liquid sludge, mulling over my emotions before responding to him.
“Yes. I’m nervous though. It was easy to be the smartest kid in class at my old school—there wasn’t much competition. Here? I might not be able to keep up.” That wasn’t so hard.
Since the night I left to visit my father, Lance had been making more of an effort to ask about me and not Mama. I wasn’t sure what I preferred. In some ways, lying about Mama had kept him at a distance. I’d been crafting verbal shields around myself since I could talk. I was starting to realize that it was another way I tried to distinguish myself from Mama. People paid pennies for her soul. I never wanted to feel cheap.
Lance smiled like he understood my fears. “You’ll do great. And if you need extra help, I can tutor you. Decker can even point you toward student resources,” Lance replied.
“What are you volunteering me for?” a rugged voice asked. I turned to stare at Decker and nearly dropped the steaming cup of coffee in my hands. He looked damn good and was wearing a suit that should be fucking illegal. It was navy and complemented his tan skin and dark, haunted eyes. His hair was still wet from his shower, and he ran a hand through it with a yawn before sitting across from me. Lance set a plate and a cup of coffee in front of him before patting him on the shoulder.
“I was just telling Blakely that you’d help her find a tutor if she feels like she’s falling behind,” Lance said in an overly sweet tone. “ ’Cause you’re just so helpful and kind, right?”
Decker swallowed. “I can always tutor her. We are living under the same roof, after all.”
Lance’s eyes flickered between us as he coughed. “Right. Well, I’m sure she wants to keep things as separate as possible. Can’t be easy being the new girl when your teacher is your roommate,” my brother replied.
“Right,” Decker replied. “I won’t be your roommate much longer anyways. The house is ahead of schedule.”
“Right,” I echoed.
“Oh! I have something for you,” Lance exclaimed at me before fleeing the room. I heard his bedroom door slam shut and shuffling in his room.
Decker mumbled something resembling, “He’s way too hyper in the mornings,” before taking a sip of his scalding coffee. Steam kissed his skin, where I wished my lips were.
“I hope he hurries. I need to leave soon to stop at the front desk and pick up my schedule,” I said before taking another sip of my brew.
Decker glanced at the clock. “We don’t have to be there for at least thirty minutes, and I haven’t even eaten yet,” he groaned.
“Oh…” I began while standing up to take my plate to the sink. I felt every nerve ending in my body light up with energy, and it wasn’t until I turned back to face the table that I realized Decker was staring at me with his mouth hanging open.
“Is something wrong, Mr. Harris?”
“No. Nothing is wrong. Why are you wearing knee-high stilettos to school? Your feet will be killing you by the end of the day,” he said before sweeping his gaze up and down my legs. Grunting, he turned his eyes to a particularly dull spot on the wall, as if forcing himself to look away.
“I like wearing heels. Gives my power stance that extra oomph. Rose suggested it,” I replied with a wink, though he was so busy staring at the wall that he didn’t see it. I wanted to tell him that these shoes made it easier to hide my knife, but I refrained.
“I bet you one truth that you fall on your face before the end of the day,” Decker challenged.
“I thought we weren’t doing truths anymore,” I whispered back, and the room fell utterly silent at my statement. I couldn’t even hear Decker’s raspy breathing or the traffic outside. Decker’s eyes sliced back at me, and I felt like a giant bubble of gum that had just popped. All the air deflated out of me at the pained look in his eyes.
“Maybe,” he began before looking at Lance’s bedroom door and back at me. “We can keep the truths?” His offer was nothing but a whisper, but I felt the echo of his plea like it was a shout directly in my ear.
“I guess I’ll have to fall, first.”
Decker smiled. “You will. Maybe I should let you walk to school to up my chances, hmm?”
“I’d prefer to drive myself, by the way.”
“In Roxy? I doubt she’ll make the ten-minute drive. Why?” Decker asked.
“Lance has a point. I don’t want other students knowing that we live together. I’m hoping to stay invisible at this school, and arriving with my ultra hot biology teacher is bound to start some rumors.”
“You think I’m ultra hot?” His question was paired with a smirk, and I realized my mistake.
“You know you are. This isn’t news, Mr. Harris.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?” he asked.
“Just testing it out, feeling the roll of it on my tongue.” Said tongue rolled out to taste my bottom lip, earning a nearly inaudible moan from Decker.
Lance’s door opened, ending our little battle of banter. I turned my attention to my brother and plastered a smile on my face. “Here you go, Blakely!” he said excitedly before handing me a haphazardly wrapped package. I took it from his outstretched hands and stared at the pink wrapping paper with uncertainty as Lance bounced on the balls of his feet.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s like you’ve never seen a present before! Open it!” Lance instructed. I knew his words were meant to be teasing, but he had no idea how true it was. Mama didn’t get me gifts, didn’t think far outside of her own selfish needs. I’d had presents before; I wasn’t completely neglected. But it was always last-minute, clearance rack clothes in her size instead of mine.
I tore through the paper and gasped at what I saw inside. It was a brand-new leather messenger bag with a designer label I didn’t recognize but knew probably cost a small fortune. “Lance, you didn’t have—”
“You needed a bag for all those books you’ll be carrying. Figured you should go in style, okay?”
“It’s too much.”
“It’s not.”
“You’re too nice to me,” I choked out, relentless emotions bubbling up within me as I tried to swipe at the moisture brimming in my eyes. I didn’t want to sound pathetic, but thoughtful gestures were a foreign concept to me.
Lance walked forward and wrapped me up in an awkward hug, my new bag held between us. “Knock ’em dead today! If anyone gives you trouble, text me or Deck—Mr. Harris, okay?” he said with a laugh.
“Okay,” I replied before stepping away. I was about to go to my room and load up my new backpack when I caught Decker’s expression looking back at me. It was a mix of protectiveness and awe. I nearly fell over myself at the sight.
“We’ll leave in thirty minutes,” he choked out once he realized I was staring. Stupid, stupid girl. Lance was standing right there as I ogled Decker. I needed to get this shit locked down. I didn’t even have the energy to argue with him anymore; I just needed out of the kitchen.