Page 23 of Foolish Games

He climbs out of the car and leaves me with that statement. I’m reeling from what he just did, and now he says he’s dreamed about me? What does that even mean?

And why am I worrying about that and not the fact that I just cheated on my boyfriend? If I even still have a boyfriend. At this point, I’m not entirely sure. Maybe my insistence on repeating it over and over was a way to convince myself more than Sebastian.

At this point, my head’s too turned around to be thinking straight. I don’t even know what our earlier fight meant. But I know I need to find out rather than avoiding it, running away and hiding, and partying with Sebastian Swift—football star, bully king, and sex god.

And my little brother’s best friend.

eight

Sebastian Swift

I haven’t taken two steps from Viv’s car when Robert appears, grabs me by the front of my shirt, and shoves me back against the Corvette. “What the hell are you doing with my sister?”

“Chill, would you?” I say, pushing against his hold. “We’re not doing anything.”

He slams me back on the car again, tightening his grip, his face set in hard lines. “I know she’s not,” he growls. “But what the fuck are you up to?”

“Nothing, man,” I say, grabbing his arms. We wrestle for control, our feet sliding on the gravel.

“Why the fuck would you bring her here?” Rob grits out.

“She just gave me a ride,” I say, relenting and holding up both hands.

One of them still smells like pussy, but he doesn’t need to know that. He’s in the right here, so I got no ground to stand on. I know better than to bring her here. I just got caught up in the idea of showing her how much fun the less gentile side of Faulkner is. Her party looked so boring and stuffy I almost fell asleep standing up while I was serving them.

Rob shoves me back. “You better fucking hope that’s all it is, because if I hear you even touched my sister…”

“I wouldn’t,” I say, guilt knotting inside me. “You’re my best friend, man.”

“Rob,” Vivienne says behind me. “Can y’all fight somewhere that won’t leave scratches in my paint?”

“See?” I say, shoving him away from me and adjusting my shirt. “I told you, man. I don’t fuck around with uptight little nerds. I got a whole party of cheerleaders to choose from.” I spread my arm wide, gesturing at the scene in front of us. Two big bonfires are set up, and as always, the Willow Heights kids are at theirs, and the Faulkner High kids are at the other. A few people mingle between, courting danger by talking to someone from the rival school.

Seemingly satisfied by our reactions to each other, Rob turns to his sister. “Hey, I’m not going to tell you to leave, but this isn’t really your kind of party,” he says.

I really didn’t think this one through. Of course he’d be here. Our whole crew always shows up at the parties. Hell, the party doesn’t start until we roll up.

Any second now, he’s going to walk around the car and see his sister’s skirt all torn off. That might take a little more explaining than showing up in her car. Which means I’m about to get my ass kicked and lose a best friend all in one night.

Still, I’m a little surprised that she doesn’t argue about it. If I said something like that, she’d stay just to piss me off. Instead, she nods and sets one foot back in the car like she’s about to climb in, resting her elbow on the top. “I know,” she says. “Like he said, I was just dropping him off. I’m on my way home now. I need to talk to Chaz.”

A knot of resentment yanks tight inside me at her words. I got her all worked up, and now she’s going to go work off the tension with that scrawny little nerd. What does he have that I don’t?

“I thought you left with him,” Rob says. “You just disappeared in the middle of dinner.”

“It was the end of the ball,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Well, thanks for sticking around,” Rob grumbles. “I had to hear all about how I’m the family heir, and it’s my job to carry on the Delacroix name by marrying some rich girl I find at college and bringing her home to Faulkner.”

“Trust me, I got an earful from Nana too,” Vivienne says, glancing at me as if embarrassed that I’m overhearing their family drama.

I wonder who her gramma told her to marry. Probably that ginger geek, Chad. I want to crush him into the ground even more than usual when I think about it.

“So, Chaz didn’t come back upstairs?” Viv asks.

“Nah,” Rob says. “I saw you take off, and I figured you were fighting. But then he left right after, and y’all never came back, so I assumed you made up and went home.”

“Thanks,” Vivienne says, looking pleased. “I’ll see you in the morning. And don’t drink if you’re driving home.”

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