Page 59 of The Prince of Broken Crowns

I try not to stare at the lean muscles carving his arms, but wow … just wow.

I tear my gaze off of him. “Fights, mostly. They weren’t started by me.” I slip my fingers into the hem of my sweatpants and pull them down. Then I shuck off my hoodie

This is the first time I’ve worn clothes that put my tattoos on display, and his eyes rove all over me as he takes in the ink curling up my upper thigh, a series of intricate lines and shadings that form a wolf with a moon and tear drop. I also have another one on my shoulder of a raven with purple-tinted feathers and flowers trimming it.

“So, are we going to work out, or are you just going to stand there and gawk at me?” I tease.

He blinks at me, his cheeks flushing. And holy hell, I never thought a blushing guy could be hot, but on River, the look is.

“Sorry.” He gives a slight shake of his head, as if attempting to shake whatever thoughts he was having out of his mind. “I’m just not used to seeing tattoos on … well, anyone really.”

“Rich people don’t get tats?” I question with a cock of my head.

“Not really,” he replies. When I continue to stare at him, confuddled, he tacks on, “Many of our parents view tattoos as like a gateway drug to becoming troublemakers that will tarnish their family’s name.”

I snort a laugh. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Agreed.” He leans over to stretch, and while he’s not paying attention, I check out the lean muscles that line his back. The moment he straightens, I divert my gaze to the ground and hurry and go into a stretching pose.

Seriously, can I be any more obvious?

Facepalm.

River doesn’t remark on what happened, so perhaps he didn’t see me.

We spend the next ten minutes stretching and lightly chatting. Once we’re good and stretched, River takes another sip of his water then asks, “You ready to do this?” He’s on the brink of actually appearing happy.

“Yep.” I adjust my hair into a ponytail. “What should we do with our stuff?”

“Just leave it here.”

“Won’t it get stolen?”

He shakes his head. “Even if someone wanted to steal something here, there are cameras all over the place.”

“Right.” And why would anyone steal anything when everyone who attends here has everything they could need?

He nods his head as he exits through the gated area. “Come on. I promise your stuff will be safe.”

“Yeah, I get that now.” I follow him. “On northside, our stuff would be gone the moment we walked out of here. And even if there was a camera nearby, it would more than likely be busted.”

We start to jog down a path that stretches across the campus yard.

“I’ve only been in that area a few times, but I kind of got that vibe from it,” he explains. “Someone once stole the tires off of Finn’s car while it was parked in this parking garage down on the farthest side of that area.”

“He’s lucky they didn’t steal the car.”

“It has an excellent alarm system.”

“A lot of people know how to disable those. The thief must have been an amateur.” We reach the end of the sidewalk and head toward the path that leads off campus. “What was he doing down there?”

He presses his lips together and stares out at the parking lot area. “I can’t tell you.”

“Dude, you’re so sketchy,” I say, mostly joking. “You keep mentioning you’ve been in northside—and I know you’ve been arrested there—and yet you won’t tell me why.”

He tosses me a look. “You won’t tell me why you were in jail.”

“Hmm …” I debate whether or not to tell him. I could, then perhaps he’ll tell me. “If I tell you, will you tell me why you were?”

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