Page 8 of Tell Me You Like It

The second they enter, there’s a renewed energy in the air. The cloaked figures fan out, dispersing into the crowd–and as they pass each girl, their gazes linger, like they’re assessing each person individually.

Um.

I lean into Bree.“What’s happening?”

She shrugs without looking at me, her eyes glued to this odd thing unfolding in front of us.

I try to make out the stranger from last night—the one with wintery blue eyes. But I never saw his face, and these guys all look similar—huge, broad-shouldered, and they all walk with the confidence that comes with being born into wealth and privilege.

I wonder if these are the Sacred Sons that the website mentioned.

I take two large gulps of my champagne, tilting my head back, and closing my eyes as the bubbles slide down my throat. I’m already feeling a bit lightheaded from the first glass, so things are moving along nicely. A couple more drinks and I may even forget why I’m here.

One can only hope.

I hold up my empty glass and lean over to Bree. She’s barely even touched her drink. “I’m going to hunt down more champagne,” I say a little louder than I intend.

Bree elbows me. “Shhh.My God, Lux, are you trying to get us kicked out? Go and come back quickly.”

With a nod, I scan the immediate area and spot a guy with a tray moving toward the center of the room.Nice.I start after him, like a lioness stalking a gazelle on theSerengeti. Wobbling a little on my heels, I weave my way through the patches of fellow college girls, keeping those tall champagne flutes squarely in my line of vision.

I’m halfway to my fresh glass when a wall of muscle appears in front of me. A wall that’s encased in a long, navy blue robe. Up close, I can see the hood is separate and made of a velvety black material–no idea why I fixate on that small detail.

Glancing up, up,up,I gulp audibly when I catch a glimpse of the Wall’s face—classically handsome with a cut jawline, straight nose, dark, wavy hair, and those light blue eyes that cut into me with such raw intensity, it makes my heart skip a beat. Or maybe it just stops completely. Either way, I feel a bit faint.

This is the guy from last night. I know it instinctively.

I take a step back to give him room to pass, but in the process, I teeter on my heel and start to go down. He catches me by the arms, and steadys me, his long fingers gripping me tightly, almost painfully.

“Um, t-thanks,” I say. But his hands linger on me, and his eyes are narrowed, his lips pressed into a hard line. He looks…angry,almost like he doesn’t want me here.

Before I can even feel a twinge of embarrassment, though, someone bumps into me from behind, shoving me into the angry stranger, my front pressed into his rock-hard chest. He barely moves, so it’s like being pinned against a slab of granite. Awarmslab of granite that smells faintly like the ocean.

I push against his chest to separate us. “S-sorry.”

With a quirk of his full lips, he dips his head and speaks directly in my ear, “You’d better watch your step, Little Rabbit. In this house, there are vipers everywhere.”

I swallow a wisp of air.

Little Rabbit? Vipers?

My mind works overtime trying to figure out what he could mean, but I come up blank. So I open my mouth to ask him, but he’s already walking away, being swallowed up by a bunch of girls trying to get his attention.

I’m left standing there, confused.

What the fuck wasthat?

I manage to grab the champagne I was after, but as I make my way back to Bree, I notice everyone in the room is looking at me, their gazes following me from under a sea of fake lashes. The distinct vibe of disapproval trails my every step.

When I get back to Bree, she’s standing next to another girl, talking in low tones behind her glass—I’m guessing so she isn’t seen breaking the rules. The other girl is wearing a satin navy-blue dress that falls mid-thigh and shows off her long, gold-tinted legs. She has an easy smile, and it looks like Bree and her have already made friends. Bree has always been that way. She could make a life-long friend while standing in line at the post office.

The girl smiles at me, flashing a row of perfectly white teeth.

Bree leans into me. “This is Wyn. She was just explaining all of this to me.”

I nod and force a smile at Wyn, still a little shaken by my encounter with the angry guy. I ball my hand into a fist to stop it from trembling.

Wyn comes over to stand next to me, so I’m sandwiched between her and Bree. We huddle a little, holding our glasses up to our mouths so that we can whisper.

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