Page 84 of SNOB

Ryung’s words ricochet through me, that moment at the rink rushing to my mind. The way Mac went down was harrowing. Especially knowing it’s my fault. But there’s a comfort in knowing it brought us closer together. Our darkness always does, even with that guilt still heavy on my chest. I just don’t know if he feels the same.

Mac doesn’t lift his head, tapping at his phone. “I’m focused on other things right now.”

“Looks like I’ll have to rely on Gray for our next game.” Ryung lights up a cigarette too. It’s amazing how these guys have enough cardio to perform on the ice. “Where is Gray, by the way? I haven’t seen him.”

Ryung’s question makes me lift my head. Seeing how Mac reacted last night, it’s a question in my head too.

Mac doesn’t respond, his eyes still on his phone.

“Weird,” I chime in, hoping for an answer. “And where’s Greta? Did we ever find out what happened to her after she got arrested?” I found her on social media but she hasn’t answered any messages I sent.

Mac leans over. "How far along are you on your project?”

Straight to business. “Almost on three,” I respond. It’s hard keeping up with his workload with classes, but a sense of fullness comes with it. Art, classes, Mac. My present could very well be my future. It’s a hell of a step up from graffitiing the streets of The Valley with Angelo.

“Then you have time tonight.”

My brows furrow. “For what?”

“Your mother wants to meet you.”

The world tilts. My heart stops.

My head whips to him, the rest of my thoughts fading. “You—you got a hold of her?”

“Easy to do when she bought your painting.” He turns to me, locking those iron eyes on mine and things don’t feel so scary anymore. “Sun House. Six o’clock.”

“Is that the time for murder?” Hannah and her entourage pass by, glaring daggers at me.

Her outfit is as revealing as last night's, like she’s trying extra hard to get Mac’s attention. This time she’s opted for a white mini skirt that hits mid-thigh with a matching crop top.

“How does it feel being the last person to see, Beau, Ember?” Her voice is loud, drawing attention to us. My lips flatten, jaw tightening, her voice like a buzzing mosquito.

“Don’t,” Mac says, his eyes still focused on me. “Don’t react.”

“Easy for you to say, you weren’t in that video,” I remind him. My eyes narrow, my mind back on the humiliation I felt last night. “How did that video get out, Mac?”

His eyes narrow into mine. “Six o’clock at Sun House. Understand?”

“Who’s your next victim, Ember?” Hannah asks, still standing near the fountain as heat rises to my head. “I hope they can swim.”

Reaching forward I wrap my fists around Mac’s shirt, pulling him to me. It’s easier than I thought it would be to pull his rock-hard body towards me, but he lets me, his lips landing on mine. He smirks against my face, and like the animal he is, presses my back against the stone. It’s easy to forget Hannah’s there, the way he consumes my body, his hand climbing into my shorts.

“She’s dangerous, Mac.” Hannah’s voice fades in and out of the haze I’m in. “Ask Greta.” But her last words make my whole body still.

Mac pulls away, and when I sit up, Hannah’s squad moves towards the main building but her words stay.

“Mac, what happened to Greta?” I ask. “And where’s Gray?”

His brows lower. “Focus, Butterfly.” He stands, and so does Ryung. “You have a date with your mother.”

“Oh, you came.”

My mom doesn’t greet me with a hello or a hug when I arrive at Sun House. She hardly looks up from her magazine, a beige wide-brim hat on top of her red hair.

She waves her white-tipped nails towards the velvet chairs in front of her. There's no space for me next to her on the leather sofa tucked in the furthest corner of the lounge.

A glass of wine and a platter of assorted vegetables sit on the table. As I join her, I can feel the sweat build on my skin beneath my brand-new outfit. For once, I caved and wore something Mac bought me: flared black velvet pants and a black blazer on top of a laced blouse. He’s made me confident in showing a bit of skin despite my size and height. But how my mom eyes my stomach makes me want to cover it with the menu.

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