“Nothing is going to happen to me.” She rolls her eyes. “Just do what you have to, and I’ll do what I must. This girl is going to need someone when you’re through with her. Might as well be me.”
Why do I feel that The Society isn’t the only one pushing me into a corner? I don’t want Stone to get in over her head. She’s important to Finn, which means she’s important to me. As Linc said, she’s family now, and we protect our own.
“Fuck it. You can help me with Scarlett but on my terms. Understand?”
“Whatever you say.” She gives me a little salute and a wry smile.
Something tells me I’m going to regret this.
If I had to recruit someone to get close to Scarlett and be her support system, Stone would be the last person on my list. Kennedy would have been a better choice. She can put on the charm and melt any heart. Scarlett wouldn’t even know what hit her. Ken is that good at making friends. But if I asked Ken to do me this solid, she would start asking questions about things the guys and I have gone to great lengths to hide from her.
I feel like shit because we’re all keeping such a big secret from her. Ken is one of us. Family. And us lying to her face all the time feels fucking wrong. But in the same way I want to protect Stone, I need to protect Ken more. She’s like blood to me, a sister I never had. Making her an accessory after the fact isn’t exactly the familial bonding gift she deserves. I’d be an even shittier friend if I did that to her.
Unlike Kennedy, Stone was kidnapped into this fucked-up fray by The Society themselves. We didn’t have a hand in that. Well, maybe a little. Finn coming clean to her was his decision to make, not The Society’s. And I guess recruiting her to help me with Scarlett is mine. I just hope I’m not making a mistake by encouraging her to get involved more than she has to.
“So, how are we going to do this?” Stone singsongs a little too excitedly for her own good.
“We’ve got Harper’s class next. Scarlett will be there. All we have to do is sit next to her and play it by ear.”
“That’s it? That’s your big plan?” she asks, not masking her utter disappointment.
“It worked for your boyfriend, didn’t it?” I tease. “Maybe I’ll get lucky like he did.”
“Don’t count on it, Easton. You’re no Finn.”
Don’t I know it. My best friend might have been a total klutz when it came to wooing a girl, but he sure managed to carve his way into the Southie’s heart. I doubt I’ll have that type of luck with Scarlett.
We get into class, and just like clockwork, my eyes scan the room to find her. I see her trademark ponytail in the fourth row from the back, and as I suspected, Scarlett is all by her lonesome, just the way she likes it. Little does she know that today she’s going to get some unexpected company.
We walk up the flight of stairs, and Stone sweetly asks if she can grab the seat by Scarlett’s side. I’m not as courteous and sit down without waiting for her approval.
“Thanks,” Stone says as she takes her own seat on the other side of Scarlett. My little church mouse is all but trapped between us.
“I’m Stone, by the way. You’re Scarlett, right?” Stone flashes her teeth at Scar, going for a nice approach.
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. Stone isn’t nice, and Scarlett doesn’t need nice, either. She needs some pressure.
Scarlett just politely nods before bowing her head to grab her book bag from the floor, pretending to get something instead of making small talk to the girl at her side. Stone turns to me and shrugs.
‘You suck as a wingman,’ I mouth.
‘Bite me!’ she mouths back.
If you want a job done right, you gotta do it yourself.
I sprawl my legs wide until they graze hers. She grabs my knee and closes my legs shut.
“Do you mind?” she growls.
“Not at all,” I goad, widening my legs further.
I watch her grind her teeth, but she doesn’t touch me again.
Pity.
I melt into my seat and just take her in. In drab clothing, Scar looks like she’s ready to be locked inside a nunnery. I mean, what respectable twenty-three-year-old college student wears shit like this?
Scarlett, that’s who.
Since it doesn’t look like Stone is going to say anything more now that Professor Harper has started her lecture, it’s up to me to ruffle some feathers. I begin to play with her dangling ponytail, the skin on the nape of her neck breaking out in goosebumps. I like the fact that anytime I touch her—even if only to fiddle with the silky strands of her rich chocolate brown hair—her body responds to me. It makes me imagine how I could provoke it to respond in other ways.
Less innocent ways.
“Stop it,” she hushes under her breath.
“Is this distracting for you?”
“Yes, it is. Keep your hands to yourself.”
“Why? I’m having so much fun playing around with you.”
She tilts her head to face me, her dark eyes beaming with fire.
“I’m not your toy.”
I lean into her neck, her sensitive skin turning a lovely shade of red with only my breath touching its surface.
“Oh, but you are, Scar. My favorite toy,” I admit, my voice deeper than I anticipated.
“I’m trying to concentrate,” she gulps, her gaze fixed on my Adam’s apple, averting her eyes from mine at all costs.
“So am I, and you’re ruining it.”
She’s wearing her favorite cherry blossoms perfume. Sweet and inviting—an aroma so contradictory to its owner, and yet so her.
“You can’t keep doing this, Easton. Harassing me in class like this all the time. I can report you, you know?” she threatens, tilting her chin up to stare me in the eyes at last.
I grab her chin lightly, pulling her to me until we are breathing the same air.
“I don’t think you will. You like it when you have my attention.”
“What do you want, Easton?” she asks, not denying my statement. “Just say it so we can both get back to our lives.”
“I haven’t decided yet. But I think you know where my head is at.”
I lick my lips and breach the small gap between us. The scent of her cherry blossom perfume seeps into my skin, and I wonder if her lips will taste as sweet. I’m trapped in this moment I’ve created, the world around us disappearing in a flash. It would be so easy just to lean in to capture her trembling bottom lip in mine.
Just stay still, Scar. Just a little longer. Just a little longer, baby.
Her breasts heave up and down from under her beige sweater, her heart drumming to the beat of mine. I’m about to throw caution to the wind when her open palms suddenly push against my chest with all her force. She fumbles with the notebook on her lap, but within seconds, she has everything in her book bag and runs away from class just like she did last week.
“Smooth, asshole,” Stone castigates, as she, too, picks up her stuff to follow Scarlett.