So he came to these fucking parties Alistor threw, because it was a steady stream of free booze and loud noises to drown out everything else.
Everyone thought they knew who and what he was—trash who had only gotten into BMA because they needed to fill a spot for the “less fortunate.” But he’d gotten in because he was smart, and it was that intellect that secured him a spot. And he wasn’t going to fuck it up.
He was an outsider, a “townie.” He had lived a hard life, didn’t have Mommy and Daddy’s money to fund spending sprees. He had to work for every little fucking thing he got, and he’d beat anyone’s ass who rubbed him the wrong way.
Yeah, that’s why they stayed away, because he’d have no problem popping some fucker for looking at him cross-eyed.
Reese supposed his size aided in the fear department. At six-foot-three inches, he prided himself on being healthy and in shape. He didn’t have a whole lot of control of many things in life, but that was one of them. But it wasn’t just that. Having a drunken, abusive father who came home from benders more times than not and tried to use him as his personal punching bag tended to make anyone want to be able to protect themselves.
But those fucking days ended two years ago, right after Reese put up with enough shit and showed his old man exactly how it felt to get knocked around.
A “hardened life”—that's what these little BMA bitches murmured about him. He snorted at that thought. Fuck the lot of them. They’d never know what real struggle was.
He weaved his way through the bodies and headed into the kitchen. He needed a beer and a shot, and not in that order. After getting the shot first and tossing it back, he grabbed a red plastic cup filled to the brim with the amber liquid and guzzled it down. He needed to be drunk to hang out with these assholes. He got another refill, ignoring the way the girls looked at him.
They wanted him for one reason. He was a bad boy, and not like the little rich pricks they hung around.
He searched the party, expecting to see Nate. That rich fucker who was so unlike Reese they should have been enemies, but who had somehow become his best friend. The asshole was loaded, as in his family founded and built the elite Black Mountain Academy. But he wasn’t like the other snobs who attended. Reese couldn’t even place why they clicked, but hell, stranger things had happened in life, like Reese attending a private school for starters.
He even tolerated Nate calling him “Trenton” like the swimming jock Nate was.
After giving up the search to see if Nate had shown up, and not bothering to text him to verify, Reese was about to head out back, maybe smoke a joint and let the chatter of the party fill his head, when he saw her.
She stared at him, this down-to-earth but fucking pretty little thing who stood out just as much as he did.
Keira Sheppard.
The good girl at BMA who was shy and reserved, and who stared at him an awful lot. But he didn’t get the vibe from her she wanted to fuck him because he was the local trash. She seemed more curious than anything else. And in turn, that interested him, even though it shouldn't. Girls were not on his radar. Getting good grades, a recommendation for college, and leaving this fucking town and starting his life elsewhere were what he needed to focus on.
He looked away from her, but he found his focus sliding back to Keira more times than should be comfortable. She wasn’t looking at him now, and he took that moment to just stare, to take in her features. Fuck, she seemed out of place, standing off to the side with her back to the wall, that red cup pressed to her chest. She brought it up and took a sip, and the grimace on her face after she swallowed had him smirking.
She hated it but was trying to fit in.
He should look away, but for the fucking life of him, he couldn’t. And he didn’t miss the guys watching her, checking her out. He was pretty sure she had no clue they were eye-fucking her, but whether she knew it or not, the opposite sex sure as hell noticed her.
And that had this weird feeling slamming into him. He narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth at the uncomfortable feeling. He noticed a prick looking at her up and down, then saying something to his buddy, who in turn checked her out. He obviously couldn’t hear what they said, but he didn’t have to hear them to know the obscene fucking things they said about her.
He should go up to the little assholes and bust in their teeth for talking trash about her. She deserved better.
I don’t even fucking know her, have never even spoken to her.
That didn’t seem to matter where this possessiveness and jealousy came in. It was definitely misplaced, but not something he’d been able to push away.
He growled low to himself and turned around, heading to the back, because his head was getting all muddled and clouded with shit he shouldn’t be focused on.
Keira Sheppard wasn’t his, and he shouldn’t be concerned what anyone said about her or who she was with.
And as he thought those things, tried to beat that reality into his head, he still couldn’t stop the images of her playing on repeat in his mind.
3
He’d caught her staring at him. More than once. Humiliation was a pretty strong feeling inside her, enough that she couldn’t get her face to stop feeling like it was on fire.
Was that the first time he caught her? Probably not, because she felt like there was this magnet and she couldn’t help but be drawn to him. It was insane. They didn’t even know each other, and never even said one word to the other. But there was… something about Reese Trenton that had every impure thought filling her head.
She didn’t miss the way the other females in the room were just as transfixed by him as she was. How could they not be? He was not only gorgeous, but smart as hell. But of course the rumors about his home life were what filtered through the school, the fact that everyone thought of him and his family as trash. The fact that they said he was a charity case.
But she didn’t care about any of that.
She’d met more trash at Black Mountain than anywhere else.
She found herself searching for him when she couldn’t find him in the kitchen, and saw him out through the patio doors, smoking a joint. He was tall, dark, and mysterious, his black hair, olive skin, and black eyes making her think maybe he had Italian in him.
Keira forced herself to finish the beer and found herself going back to the kitchen for another. It wasn’t that she needed it or even wanted another one, but she already felt the heat from the alcohol and wanted it to last. It made her feel like she didn’t stand out so much.
There were a few people waiting in line for another drink, the person at the front of the line doing a keg stand as everyone chanted and cheered.
The sliding patio door opened, and she glanced over to see Sebastien Van Cleeve walk in.
One of the richest students at school.
A certified psycho.
One of the “untouchables.”
Everyone who wasn’t part of his clique looked away, not wanting to make eye contact. They parted like he was oil and they were water. He walked by her, this blast of cold air leaving him and surrounding everything and everyone in the kitchen, leaving this icy touch that could have frozen limbs off.
Everything about him and his crew seemed fake to her, like they had their own secrets, their own hidden agendas.