I walk alongside my brothers in thoughtful silence. The stir we cause as we make our way up the stairs of Redwood Prep barely penetrates my senses.
Normally, I can tune out the chatter, but it’s noisy today. We’ve been gone for a month and the kids had enough time to find a new reason to revere us.
As we walk through the hallway, gazes stick to our backs like magnets to steel. No one approaches us though. They know better than to get in our way. Call us stuck up. Call us jerks and bastards. We’ve had far too many ‘friends’ try to get close thinking it’s a one-way ticket totheJarod Cross. After a few let-downs, we’ve learned that it’s better to keep to ourselves.
The only person who managed to prove he really had our back was Sol. And we let him down in the worst way.
Finn sticks his hands into his pockets. “You said you had a plan, Dutch. You want to enlighten us now?”
“Not in the freaking hallway,” I growl back.
Finn gives me a dark look.
I scrape a hand through my hair. We’re all on edge, but I don’t want to turn on my brothers. Lowering my tone, I glance at him. “I’ll tell you in the practice room.”
He nods.
‘Hey, Zane.’
“Hey, Finn’
‘Hey, Dutch’
A chorus of greetings erupt from cheerleaders in short skirts. They flounce down the hallway, their flowery perfume filling my senses.
I’m pretty sure we’ve taken a turn with the best of them at least once. Although Zane’s been known to double-dip.
Girls at Redwood Prep have no problem throwing themselves at us. Most of the time, they don’t even care which one of us they’re kneeling in front of. As long as they get to work off one of The Kings, that’s all they need.
It’s getting old.
Or maybe I’m just getting jaded.
Somehow, I’ve stopped milking up the attention the way Zane seems to.
“By the way, I got a call from Bex Dane’s manager. They want us to play at the November Festival this year. You interested?” Finn asks.
“I’m down.” Zane pushes his lips toward me. “But our broody leader might pass for the fun of it.”
“They’re trying to entice us to sign with them. It’s so obvious,” I say.
Finn shrugs and nods his agreement.
“Dad’ll hate it.” Zane seems almost gleeful.
“If we do something stupid just to get back at dad, then we’re no better than he is.”
“He’s got a point,” Finn says.
“I know. I hate when he does that.” Zane sighs. “No offense, Dutch. But sometimes I get the incredible urge to punch you in the…face.”
My brother gawks at someone coming out of a classroom. Finn and I don’t need to turn around to see who’s got Zane’s tongue. But we do it anyway because we appreciate a good view and the one Miss Jamieson makes is worth the drool slipping down my twin’s chin.
A short skirt wraps around Miss Jamieson’s sweet chocolate thighs. A nice rack that would win a ten out of ten in any man’s books is nicely contained in a crisp silk blouse under a black jacket. Her hair’s a riot of curls that taper down to mid-back. Her brown eyes are sharp and commanding, and the way they look now, surrounded by dark grey eye shadow, makes her seem edgy and untouchable.
Everything about her is alluring. She’s the sexiest teacher in Redwood Prep and she walks like she knows it.
She also walks right past Zane, whose face is more flushed than a kid without sunscreen.