Page 117 of Brutal Prince

I shrug expressively, even lifting my hands a little. “Maybe next time you should be on top. Might last longer than a minute.”

I drop my eyes to his junk long enough that everyone can see where I’m looking. My heart’s pounding like a fucking drum, but I feel more alive than I have in a week.

Briar smirks at me and opens his mouth, but I pivot and head for the cafeteria door before he can get a word in.

The hushed silence lasts all of one second before the entire cafeteria erupts into gales of laughter. That sound puts a swagger in my step, and I’m even tempted to whistle a little as I step into the hallway.

But my excellent mood dissolves in a second when I see Mr. Denard heading in my direction. I turn around, but I’m not fast enough — he’s already spotted me.

“Ms. Virgo.”

Dammit.

I turn and give him a measly little smile. “Sir.”

“Don’t forget about detention this afternoon.” His smile is wide and full of joy. I bet he jerks off to the thought of handing out detention slips.

I hitch up my frosty smile until it feels like my face is gonna crack. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

His eyes narrow at my open sarcasm but he doesn’t call me out for it. Lifting his nose into the air, he strides past me without another word.

Two in one day? Damn, Indi, you’re on fire.

* * *

Briar

This is fucking bull shit.I don’t know how she’s doing it, but it has to stop. I take the jab as best I can, but she got a solid fucking hit in. I tear out a bite of my sandwich, barely chewing before I force it down my throat.

Fucking bitch.

“Hey, can I invite her to my party?” Dylan asks.

Conversation had barely picked up again, but at his question, it stalls like a car badly in need of new spark plugs.

“You wanna what?” I manage through a growl.

Dylan’s grinning at me. I’ll be the first to admit, he’s not the sharpest tool in the workshop, but he gets by just fine on his charm. “My party.”

I put down the rest of my sandwich, dust my hands, and put my palms down flat on the table. Then I’m about to tell Dylan to go fuck himself with a rusty pitchfork, but Marcus cuts in.

“Round two,” he says quietly, for my ears alone.

Round…?

I don’t turn to him — I’m too busy glaring at Dylan.

Marcus must know I didn’t fuck Indi. Is he seriously suggesting I get with her at Dylan’s party as revenge for her humiliating me?

I can’t deny — it won’t take much convincing on my part. I’ve been wanting to fuck her since day one. But she made it clear in Addy’s backyard that she’s not interested in sex. Apparently, the extent of Indi’s interest in me is to lead me on for fuck knows whatever nefarious purposes.

Still…Booze and Indi?

“Bad idea,” I murmur.

“You’ve had worse.”

I let out a soft laugh, and Dylan nods his head, his smile inching up as if he thinks I’m agreeing with him.

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