Page 44 of The Broken Note

I choke. “Why would I do that?”

“You said you can’t stand the sight of me. You want nothing to do with me.” He tilts his head. “Then it won’t matter.”

“The hell is wrong with you?”

He looks unruffled. Totally in control. “Are you that scared of how I make you feel, Brahms?”

My mouth purses. “Screw you, Dutch.”

“We both know you walking in here and making demands isn’t going to stop me. You want me to leave you alone?” He arches an eyebrow. “Prove that you don’t want me.”

My lips fall into a firm line.

This is a risky game, but the one thing I hate more than Dutch Cross is walking away from a chance to shut him up.

Don’t go over there. Don’t go.

I ignore that tiny voice in my head.

I must be insane, but I want him to eat his own words. I want him to know that he doesn’t control me and if I have to think about new-born kittens and C-sections and boogers to win this dare, I will.

Dutch Cross willnothave the satisfaction of being right.

* * *

Jinx: Will This Fight For The Throne Draw Blood?

The moment our OG Bad Boy announced he’d be serving a royal term at Redwood, the streets were flooded with whispers. In a battle of the royals, who will stand on top—the ruler with experience or his young, impulsive son?

Today’s first round was fought in front of a crowd and the votes are in. Prince Charming was made to bow before his more powerful father. But he made sure to leave a mess in his wake after walking away.

Even more intriguing? The OG Ruler took Cinderella aside again today. Does the Prince know what his father and his princess are cooking up? Something tells me there’s a chaos brewing in the kingdom.

Until the next post, keep your enemies close and your secrets even closer.

- Jinx

CHAPTERTEN

CADENCE

Stalking forward, I let my book bag slip off my shoulders and thud to the floor.

Dutch’s amber gaze strikes me as I stomp over and settle myself on his lap. His smug little smile when I straddle him is a gunshot to the heart. I feel like I’m playing right into his hands, but my runaway temper won’t let me back down.

I dig my fingers into his shoulder, my eyes like flint. “See? Nothing.”

That’s not true.

In fact, it’s the farthest thing from the truth.

My body is instantly hot and the way his hard, muscular form feels beneath me makes me wonder if I set myself up for failure. Maybe I accepted this challenge, not to prove anything to Dutch but to grab an excuse—any excuse—to be close to him.

I realize my mistake, but I can’t take it back. Dutch grips my hips with two rough hands, pinning me in place.

My breath catches as he begins to tease a circle over my hip bone. Every so often, the pad of his thumb catches the skin of my upper thigh, which is exposed thanks to the ridiculously short skirt.

I shouldn’t have worn this stupid outfit today. In this position, I might as well have taken my skirt off. The skirt is crushed around my waist. I’m practically sitting on Dutch in my underwear. Only a thin strip of fabric between me and the coarseness of his trousers.

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