Page 103 of Broken Prince

Winter gives me a sad smile. “You get used to it, learn ways to avoid her.”

“Easier said than done,” I sigh.

“True.”

I put my things away. Grabbing my purse and phone, I join Winter in the hall. She loops her arms through mine. “Let’s go eat our feelings and drown our sorrows in coffee before we’re forced to face the queen of hell.”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “That sounds good right about now.”

***

The stadium is packed, the bleachers filled with a sea of emerald and gold–the school’s colors.

I have my camera hanging around my neck as I wait for the team to come out. Poor Winter is already taking photos, and I’ve heard snarky comments from Stacy on the sidelines more than once. I’m doing my best to avoid her, but if that bitch says one more thing to my best friend, I’m going to lose my shit.

I’m already at my wit’s end with her. I’m not sure what else I can take before I burst.

Mr. White said I needed to be taking photos from the moment they come out of the locker rooms right up until they leave the field at the end of the night.

My nerves have been too shot for that. I’ll get as much as I can while they play. It’s only my first day; I’ll do more next time.

“Kill me. Please,” Winter begs. “They’re all so fake. The moment the camera is on them, they start posing. I’m supposed to be taking candid photos. At least until I have to take their headshots next week.” She looks drained already.

“I’ll come with you when you do that. Keep you from grabbing your toaster and taking a bath.” I grin.

She laughs. “Deal. So, any good shots?”

“I haven’t taken any yet.” I shrug. “I’ve been waiting for them to come out.”

Just as I say the words, the whole crowd cheers. Grabbing my camera, I raise it up and look through the viewfinder. It takes a moment, but when I find Logan, I start snapping photos.

Damn, he looks good. His black hair is messy as he runs across the field. I focus on his face and frown. He looks pissed, maybe annoyed, like he would rather be anywhere but here.

There's a layer of stubble on his chin and cheeks like he hasn't shaved in days. Zooming in, I see dark circles under his eyes.

“Fuck,” I whisper as a punch of guilt hits me hard. I should have been there with him, helping him deal with all this. Instead, I left him after he told me how he felt about me. He said he didn’t care about being stepsiblings, that he took back what he said about being just friends.

I fucking hate Stacy. I hate her for ruining everything good in his life.

Snapping a few shots, I continue to watch him through the camera.

As he makes his way over to the bench, his eyes shift my way. My heart stills as he stares at me, a surprised look taking over his face before it morphs into a frown.

Slowly, I lower the camera, looking at him now with my actual eyes. Can he see the misery on my face?

I feel someone watching me, my attention drifting over to find Stacy frowning at me before her eyes flick over to Logan. Then she’s looking back to me, glaring daggers, as if she’s warning me to stay away.

I read you loud and clear, she-devil.

My eyes find Logan again, and he’s frowning harder, anger filling his face as he looks toward Stacy. I’m guessing this is the first time he’s seen her since last weekend.

It looks like he’s ready to go over there and say something.

He doesn’t get the chance because his coach gets his attention.

“Remember, Laney,” Winter says. “You need to take photos of the team, not just a certain someone.”

I look down and laugh at Winter. “I know.” I roll my eyes.

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