Page 24 of Underground Prince

Denial frothed into my throat. “You don’t know anything about m—”

“And, what’s most concerning to me, you’re fronting all that with impulsiveness.”

“Yeah? Four hours has given all you need to assess and dismiss me?”

His predatory cloak receded as he shifted away. His mouth, tense with truth but supple with arrogance, was no longer close enough to stagger my thoughts. My self-control returned, and so did my temper. Or so I thought.

My mouth snapped shut as he grazed his fingers along my forearm, wet from his cold beer, trails of water left in his wake. Ice charring my skin.

“Who said anything about dismissal?” he said. “This is what we want. Both of us. Say the word and I’ll give it to you.”

I jerked out of his hold. His hand remained in midair, confident I’d come back.

“No,” I said, though it took me a minute to understand why I was denying the man who made every hedonistic part of me hum. But something was wrong. A thing he assumed. I realized, despite his expertise and resulting denial, that I dared to learn and utilize my own strategies rather than simply watch and memorize those of others. I yearned for the chance to create memories other than those fated to become the carved-out moments that defined my life. “I told you what I want. And I want to play.”

Theo’s arm lowered. “Innocence is something I can feel sorry for, an excuse I’ll accept. But I’ll do no such thing for ignorance.”

My molars clenched. It would be a knee-jerk reaction to rail against his assumption that I was being stupid—he was actually calling me dumb—but that was exactly what he believed I’d do. All firecracker, choosing bright explosions over lasting impressions. Somehow it became foolishly crucial to prove him wrong. “So you’ll screw me but not teach me? What kind of deal is that?”

His eyes flicked to mine. “The better of the two.”

“What is it about my daring to play your game that you hate so much? I want in, Theo.”

Theo’s shoulders went rigid, their span tightening into a warning line. “You’re destined for a lot of things. But not this. Not with me.”

I ignored the despondence in his tone, for if I accepted it I’d cave in to his wishes, and that meant this promise inside me would disappear. “You keep talking like whatever happens next is going to be your fault. I know what I’m doing and if you won’t back me then I’ll find someone who will—”

“You don’t understand the risk you’re taking. And you never will.”

His stool scraped back, the only sound between us as he walked away. The atmosphere trickled into my ears—shouts, hollers, the dull roar of voices rising over music. Theo’s strides were as graceful as ever, as calm as a sea at low tide, but there was a hurricane rising as he heaved the front door open.

Well. In less than five minutes, I managed to piss him off to such an extent that our date—conversation—was over.

Chugging the rest of my beer, I thought, You ticked me off, too, loverboy, but do you see me scurrying away?

“Um,” the bartender said once I schooled my expression back to normal. “He has the car waiting for you.”

So Theo was a gentleman who would never leave a lady unattended in the middle of the night, despite him stalking away to wherever it is dickish people go after biting off an insult.

With stiff primness, I rose from my seat, tipped the bartender, and headed out to hail my own cab.

Watch me resist you now, jackass.

* * *

I hailed a cab without issue and took it to my apartment. After sparring with Theo, all the energy had drained out of me, my thoughts using up what fuel was left.

New York City blurred past me, rainbow laser-lines scoring the car’s window as I sped to my home. I’d left this place—for eighteen months I couldn’t think of going back to it—but here I was, pretending I could act for Verily, for my parents, and that I’d fall right into proper habits.

But that Scarlet Rhodes was dead, the cautious, studiously-concerned girl who thought failed exams meant total dismay, that screwing up anything meant complete annihilation. The only way to revive that person was to reanimate the corpse that remained.

I paid the cab, unlocking the front entrance to my building and treading up the stairs while scrolling through my phone. There was a message from Matt from two hours ago: Scarface, so sorry. Trapped at dinner with Mar and her friends.

I shoved my phone in my purse, trading it for keys. Scarface. He thought it was cute and especially smart. If Marissa ever scrolled through, she’d assume Scarface was a dude.

Recently, it sounded as messed up as the situation itself.

I went into my room and shut off the lamp, bathing myself in the black, though the eternal glimmer outside prevented me from disappearing.

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