Page 35 of Beauty Sleep

“Get out,” I breathe out.

My hands are curled into fists all of a sudden, my whole body stiff with outrage and disappointment and fear.

And a bone-deep humiliation that, for the first time,doesn’tfeel good.

“But—”

“Getout,” I snap, so loudly that even Robby jumps. “Now!”

Prince’s face crumples.

That look makes my heart explode into even tinier fragments, and I wish it didn’t. I wish I could just be so pissed at him that nothing he says or does can slip in past my defenses and touch me again.

But I feel his pain on top of my own, and I can’t stop the tears spilling from my eyes, running down my cheeks.

Prince stumbles backward off the step. He takes another pace back toward the gate, still staring like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Like he’s hoping I’m about to change my mind.

I shake my head.

Prince’s shoulders crumple. He tears his gaze away from mine, whirls on his heel, and shoves his way back through the gate to vanish into the night.

“And don’t you ever try and sneak back in here!” Robby hollers after him, stomping to the gate and shielding his eyes against the rain to watch him go.

Then he storms back in and slams the door.

I’m still blinking back my tears, but suddenly I’m being steered to the living room, pressed into a chair, handed a mug of hot chocolate.

Someone’s telling me to drink up so I don’t go into shock. I nod automatically and sip, still staring into space.

I’m gradually becoming aware that my friends are all talking over each other in a clamor of voices.

“What the hell is going on?”

“He’s fucking stalking Briar, dude. I can’t believe it!”

“I can. I knew he was up to no good.”

“How’d he get the code?”

“Should we report him?”

“Who used the lockbox last? Did they scramble it afterwards?”

My head is whirling.

No. No, I’m not doing this again—going along with everything.

I suck in a quick breath and set down my drink. “Wait.”

Kurt glances at me, then nudges Robby, who’s talking loudly about a video doorbell.

I’m going to have to speak up if I want to be heard.

The Prince I’ve always dreamed of… if he ever existed… he’d be proud of me for doing this.

That hurts even more. I swallow hard and curl my hands into fists again as my throat goes tihgt.

The old Briar would have just let them keep talking, so long as I never had to think about it again.

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