Page 43 of Cry Havoc

It shouldn’t rankle me as much as it does, but Olivia is popular, with a capital P. I don’t know if there really is something that special about her or if people are just fascinated because the most infamous person on campus has a secret twin. Regardless, they can’t get enough of her.

At this point, I never see her without a crowd of admirers.

Drake has been doing his best to distract me, but he won’t acknowledge any talk of Olivia. Whenever I bring her up, he kisses me into submission if we’re around other people. If we’re not, he uses other methods to ensure my thoughts are far from my bitch of a sister.

I made one comment about us starting over and he ran with it, telling me to get ready like it’s a first date so he can sweep you off your feet like in the movies. I don’t know if I should be excited or terrified.

I wait for him outside of the dorm in a clingy dress that is definitely going to ride up my ass when I’m on the back of his bike. The tights I’m wearing underneath don’t do enough to chase away the cold, but I don’t care. For the first time in weeks, I did my hair and makeup like I actually care what I look like and wore an outfit that makes me feel like the girl I used to be.

Maybe seeing Olivia strutting around here like a runway model has inspired me.

Drake’s appreciative whistle as he stops the bike and pulls off his helmet is enough to make the hours-long effort worth it. My hair had been a rat’s nest of tangles that I had to deep condition twice to get it back in some semblance of order. Now it hangs down my back in a sleek wave that I hope won’t be disrupted by the helmet.

He grasps my hips before I can climb up behind him. “I’m not sure I should let you go out like this. Your dress is pure sin.”

“Feel free to join the rest of us in the twenty-first century, Van Koch. This caveman thing isn’t as sexy as you think it is.” That’s a total lie, but I keep a straight face as he studies me with a raised eyebrow.

“You sure about that?” His grip tightens. He pulls me closer until I’m caught between his thigh and the side of the bike. His body heat is in a sharp contrast to the cold metal. “I think it’s getting you more than a little turned on.”

His lips skate down my neck, making me shiver.

“You promised me dinner,” I remind him. “I’m not the kind of girl who gives it up without being fed first.”

He laughs before gently kissing me. “That dress says otherwise, but I’ll take you to dinner, anyway.”

Wind rushes over my face as we ride. There’s a cleansing quality to the cold, like some part of me is being blown away with the rush of air.

I’m almost disappointed when we pull into the parking lot of a swanky restaurant on the far side of Drumsville. Hanging vines cover the portico entry. The tables on the front patio are empty because it’s too cold for outdoor seating, but they’re still lit by flickering tea lights.

“Italian?” I say as we pull up. “Isn’t that a little basic?”

“It’s the nicest place in town, for whatever that’s worth. I figured we could use the distraction.”

Drake parks the bike and helps me off it, so I don’t inadvertently flash the people milling outside.

“How does my hair look?” I ask, taking off the helmet.

With a very serious look on his face, he reaches out to smooth the hair at my crown. Then deliberately musses it with his hand until I slap it away. “Perfect, as always.”

I push him away and use the side-view mirror to fix the flyaway strands, my own smile reflecting back at me. “Jerk.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Even though it’s been months, this almost feels like a first date. This is how it would have been if we’d started out the right way. Now we have a second chance at starting over, if I can just let go of the past.

“I think you’re trying to impress me,” I murmur as his hand settles at the small of my back and we start toward the door.

It’s too dark outside for me to see his face, but I hear the smile in his voice. “Is it working?”

“Ask me again once I’ve seen the prices on the menu.”

“Touché.”

The host just waves us forward as we step inside, despite the handful of people already waiting. Drake doesn’t even have to mention a reservation, as we’re immediately escorted to a table.

“Is there anyone in this town who doesn’t know who you are?” I ask as the host lights the candle on our table.

“Impressed yet?”

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