Page 63 of The Pawn

But then all at once his mouth moves, and it's like a symphony coming to life, every instrument playing at once. He parts his lips to mine, leans forward and opens my mouth with his tongue hungrily.

One of his hands comes up to cup the side of my neck, palm curving against my fast-beating pulse. He guides my head into a tilt, and the kiss grows deep and passionate. His chest is firm beneath my hands, his pulse nearly as erratic as mine, those lips of his perfect and skilled.

It's like kissing a Greek god come down from Olympus. A thousand girls would stab their own mothers to be right here where I am, mouth against Lukas DuPont's, his hand playing with their hair. I feel transcendent, more alive than I've ever been.

Until a distinctive voice clears behind my head. "You too, Lukas? Here I thought only Tanner was weak."

I jump, draw back from the kiss all at once, nearly falling off my chair. My laptop slips out of my still-open computer bag and falls to the ground, bouncing once, twice, its thick plastic frame making a crunching sound. I wince and moan at the sight of it sitting on the ground, then sweep it up and whirl on our intruder.

"Blake." I scowl at him, then flick my eyes over at Lukas, suddenly afraid what he might say in front of the boy I was just kissing. Damn me, but despite everything, I actuallylikethe blond, filthy rich European. "How long have you been standing there, perv?"

"Long enough." He's looking at Lukas, who is sprawled back in the chair, running his hands through his hair. "So, it's really true then. You've chosenthis oneover your own friends."

"It's not like that."

"Isn't it?" Those cold eyes narrow, and he stalks towards us, eyes sweeping our little study area. "It sure seems like you've picked a side. And to think, we were going to back offthis oneand let her take herself out like the trash she is simply by failing enough classes."

"I'm not failing," I object, standing up and clutching the laptop to me, despairing at the thought that it might be broken now. "I'm passing. And I have an A in art."

"For now." Blake tilts his head and smirks at me. "But do you really think that you'll pass your finals at the end of this semester? They count for most of your grade. Don't forget that I'veseenyour calculus work. You don't have a chance in hell of surviving this semester, much less the rest of the year."

He has a point, and I know it, because it's something that's occurred to me myself. But I don't want to give him the satisfaction of admitting how much I'm struggling in my classes, despite studying in the library for hours every weekend.

Looking into those cold eyes of his, though, I realize that so far I've played light. I've been exposing their sordid pasts, getting them in trouble on social media and with their parents, and in Cole's case, played a few pranks as a tit for tat. But none of it has really had any lasting impact.

It's time to take them down for good.

"How about this." Approaching Blake, I look up into his brown eyes and try not to let the sight of him staring down at me make me feel inferior. "I bet you that I can scare the shit out of you at the Hallow's Eve Festival, and if I win, you have to leave me alone. No, wait," I say as another thought occurs to me, "if I win, you have to help me pass our calculus class."

Blake asks, "And if I win? Because the only thing I want is you out of this school."

He stalks close to me, so close I can feel the heat of his body.

"Blake," Lukas mutters in warning, voice low, an edged expression to his normally soft blue eyes. "Watch it."

"I am watchingit," he says, meaning me. "How about this, BrennaCooke."

So Lukas doesn't know my real name, then, just as I thought. "Spill it."

"If I win, you have to get up in front of the school and tell them the truth. Thewholetruth. No detail spared."

I wonder if he knows what he's really asking.

The whole truth isn't just my name, or my sordid history, or even how I got into this school.

There's another piece of the truth, a piece I think the Elites still haven't figured out. The rope, the tree, the snake in the grass, my brother's body in a casket.

I look up into Blake's eyes and wonder if they'll still be as cold when he finds out what he did to my brother—allof it.

Confused, Lukas asks, "What truth do you mean?"

"Deal." I hold out my hand, ignoring Lukas's confusion. "Get ready to have your socks scared off you, Blake Lee."

"Get ready to be run out of this school." He smirks, leaning so close to me that I can see the amber in his brown eyes, and my heart does a funny dance against my ribs. "Good luck fooling him," he murmurs for my ears alone. "When Lukas finds out the truth, he'll get rid of you—completely."

I jerk my hand out of his grip, wiping my palm against my legs. "See you this weekend."

"See you."

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