Page 22 of Heart of Thorns

“That was cold, dude.”

“That was a big yikes,” someone else adds.

“What did I do?” he asks, pretending not to know.

Thorne’s voice fades the closer I get to the door, but I can see right through his denseact.

“Bro—” I shut the door so I can’t hear the football team talking about myaccidentand head straight to Marley’s car.

Once I’m in the passenger seat, she does a double take.

“What’s wrong?” she asks. “Whose jaw do I need to break?”

I massage my leg and sit back farther into the seat to plot. “Do you remember when Jax broke it off with you and we wore the other team’s colors to the game to irritate him?”

She smiles. “How could I forget?”

“I think we should do that again.”

Only this time, it’s to irritate Thorne.

CHAPTER 8

THORNE

@B_Hart: @therealthorne’s true face may be gone from the locker room but never from our memories.[IMAGE]

I shake my head,trying to hold back a laugh. I should be pissed, but I’m not.

This girl isrelentless. She even tagged me!

Who does that?

Rhys slaps me on the arm, and I quickly shield the screen from him. I grab a towel from my locker and wipe the sweat from my forehead and the back of my neck.

Thefixedportrait of me glares down at us. There are other guys, sure, but it seems like they’re all a little less defined. And maybe it’s because she had to fix the details she added to make me into the devil. But it seems like shesawme. My eyes are… well, it’s kind of flattering, in a creepy way. She got all the details right, down to the golden flecks.

Is she actually a stalker? Or did I insult her?

I’m leaning toward the latter.

Let’s not forget that I offered my hand to her. She nearly tumbled off the ladder.

I snicker. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a more clumsy person. The details of her injury—the slight limp I spotted, the snide comments that girl made at one of the parties—elude me. Mainly because I can’t fucking ask anyone about it without showing my hand.

All I know is that she’s a hockey player.

Was.

Was a hockey player.

Briar Hart.

I turn her name over in my mind, unfortunately liking the sound of it. And the way she snaps at me. Brambles, indeed. She’s thornier than me—and that’s fucking saying something.

My phone buzzes again, and I check it.

Unknown

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