Page 29 of Forget Me Twice

Sloane’s lovely face is now tight with fury.

I finish scraping off what slimy mess I can and then drop the now soaked napkins in the middle of their table. I don’t wait for any further retorts, turning on my heel and continuing towards the open courtyard.

I’ve got a playdate with my Crew mate and I don’t want to be stuck in this hall playing their childish games any longer than necessary.

Breaching the doorway at last has me sucking in a long, steadying breath. The cooling September air is a crisp kiss against the sharp planes of my cheeks and an even colder caress against my wet chest.

I honestly thought I’d feel more relieved having just ripped off the bandaid and taken the first step to fulfilling my mission.

But all it does is remind me that I’m essentially trapped here by Sebastian’s machinations and I have no control over my life for the next 180 or so days.

I’m tempted to lean on my flask again, but decide I’ll kill some time with a quick blunt instead. I slip on a pair of oversized sunglasses against the harsh midday glare and give the courtyard around me a once-over. It’s quaint. Behind a low-lying retaining wall I spy a grassy incline, clear of debris and shaded well by one of the huge oaks that line the space.

I pluck at my blouse with disgust. The wet, gravy-stained material is almost translucent now and determined to suction itself to my breasts. But then I stretch out beneath the tree, using my neatly folded blazer as a makeshift pillow. I cross my legs at the ankles and light up.

I’m heavily invested in the plume of smoke that’s curling seductively around the leaves hanging directly above me, when movement at the retaining wall steals my focus.

Lake is now perched gracefully atop the knee-high barrier in his best impersonation of a gargoyle, curls wild as ever and eyes shining.

His shirt and blazer are still hanging open like heavy theater drapes, giving me a solid view of cut abs right there on center stage. His focus bounces between my face and my now see-through shirt.

The remaining three Rox Boys are arranged behind him like marble sentinels, arms crossed and chiseled faces giving nothing away. There is something extremely eerie about how well they fit together, how cohesive they present as a group.

I’m struck by an odd compulsion to observe them working as a team in a combat situation. I bet they’d move seamlessly like cogs in a well-oiled machine.

They don’t say a word though. They just continue to stare me down. And like inside, the weight of their combined focus sends a small pulse of adrenaline through my system.

Great. Now I feel like a zoo exhibit. Again.

“No tapping on the glass, and no flash photography,” I drawl, tipping my head back and blowing out an unhurried smoke ring.

Not even a hint of a smirk.

Tough crowd.

After what feels like an eternity, it’s Lake who finally breaks the silence. “What’s your name, Wifey?” He asks, playful, but guarded. He’s still balancing on his toes in that crouched position.

“Nobody’s wife, Goliath,” I respond drily, puffing out another lazy ring.

“Just a matter of time before I put a ring on it. You’ll see.”

I try to ignore the little fireworks that sets off in my stomach. Why would he say something so…possessive?

And hot. Why is that so fucking attractive? I don’t evendocommitment. But it’s like a smutty novella playing out before my eyes.

Enemies-to-lovers. Am I’m here for it?

“You guys already know who I am.”

There is no way these four wield the power they do around here without having access to the administrator’s office. I’d even wager a tidy sum that Tristan already knew who I was when he spoke to me outside my dorm this morning.

Had he been standing there, waiting for me?

“Sabine Winters,” he hisses, confirming that they do, in fact, know exactly who I am. So what’s with the ambush? The subterfuge?

I dip my chin and smirk over my sunglasses at Tristan’s glare. “Reporting for duty.”

That muscle along his jaw jumps again. I'm surprised he hasn’t cracked a tooth yet. “I don’t know who thefuckyouthinkyou are, but I know for a fact that you are.Not.Sabine. Winters.” He almost grinds out those last words.

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