Page 6 of Merciless Prince
I sucked in a deep breath, wishing his presence wasn’t such a weight on my chest. “It’s my first day,” I replied. “What are you doing here?”
Killian stared right into my eyes as I spoke. A sense of foreboding gnawed at my insides, but I didn’t look away.
“I’m here to pick up a friend and take him back to campus,” he replied. “His car isn’t working, so he had to take the train.”
“Oh, so you… you’re a student at Bellingham too?” I asked, practically tripping over my own tongue.
“Yeah. I’m about to start my fourth year.” He moved closer as he spoke. Then his hand shot forward. My stomach flipped, and I took a reflexive step backward.
Killian’s lips curved upward at the corners as he plucked something off the top of my head. He obviously knew he scared me, and he found it amusing.
“Sorry,” he said, showing me the crunchy brown leaf that must’ve blown onto my hair at some point in the last couple of minutes. He didn’t sound sorry at all. “I figured you wouldn’t want to walk around with this on your head all day.”
I nodded and cleared my throat. “Thanks,” I murmured.
The skin on my scalp was still tingling where his fingers had touched it, and shivers were racing down my spine. A throbbing sensation was hitting me between the legs, too; a sign that my body hadn’t quite caught up with my brain and was still responding to the instinctual attraction that any red-blooded woman would feel toward a man like Killian. “Anyway, I have to get my luggage,” I added hastily, feeling a strong urge to run away from him before my body betrayed me any further. “I, uh… I’ll see you around, I guess.”
Killian dipped his chin in a brief nod. “Sure. See you around, Shay.”
The way he said my name made my skin tingle. There was a slight growl to it, making his already-deep voice even deeper. I tried to mumble a ‘bye’ in response but all that came out was a strangled cough.
With that, Killian walked away from me, toward the front of the train.
I continued on my way to the baggage car, replaying the conversation in my head. Something was bothering me about it. It wasn’t the awkwardness or stiffness, or even the predatory gleam I saw in Killian’s eyes when he stared at me. There was something else rubbing me the wrong way. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was, though.
It finally hit me when I reached the baggage car. The last few words Killian spoke to me were flashing in my mind like a neon sign.See you around, Shay.
When I briefly flirted with him at the party a month ago, I put my number in his phone after he asked for it. A few seconds later, he was distracted by one of his friends and pulled away from me before I could tell him who I was so that he could save my number with a name. I didn’t introduce myself to him at any point in the conversation before that, either.
So how did he know my name?
2
Killian
“There you are.”Derrick sauntered over to me, sunglasses dangling from one hand. A black leather duffel bag hung off his other arm. “I’ve been waiting over here for ten fucking minutes, man. What the hell were you doing over there? Trying to score some freshman pussy?”
I scoffed, knowing full well that the train had only pulled into the station four minutes ago. “You know, if you buy yourself a car that actually works, you won’t have to wait at all.”
Derrick grinned and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “All good, man. Thanks for coming to get me.”
“No problem. Got any other bags?”
He shook his head. “Nah, just this. Most of my shit’s already in my dorm.”
“Let’s go, then. I’m over there.” I jerked a thumb toward the north end of the parking lot.
“Who was that girl you were talking to, anyway?” Derrick asked as we headed off the platform. “I could only see the back of her head. Nice ass, though.”
“No one special,” I said, not wanting to concern him with how close I got to the enemy for no good reason.
I looked over to the left to catch another glimpse of Shay as she wrangled two massive purple suitcases off a luggage cart and into the trunk of a white car with the help of a tall blonde girl.
Shay Louise Sinclair.
All roads led to that girl lately. All thoughts, all plans, all feelings of passion, frustration and loathing rose from the dark specter of our brief yet significant history. Why couldn’t the bitch just mind her own fucking business? And why did she have to be so fucking hot? That made things a whole lot harder for me.
I kept watching her as she giggled and nudged her friend, sable eyes sparkling in the sunlight. She was the classic girl-next-door with a slim yet curvy frame, wavy brown hair, and smooth, makeup-free skin. She looked so sweet and innocent. So doe-eyed and fragile.
