Page 24 of Eternal

I hate it as much as I want it.

Rage swells in my chest as I stare him in the eyes. My heart is hammering, and I have to keep my lips pressed tightly together so he can’t see how fast my breath is racing.

“They won’t believe this is real.” I grit my teeth. “My father is one thing. He doesn’t pay attention. But my friends—”

“I’m doing you a favor, Teal, in case you forgot.” Declan cuts me off, grazing his fingertips along my jaw. “If you knew the plans your father has for you, you’d be thanking me… begging me for my help. If you knew everything I do, this would be a very different conversation. So you can either convince your friends this is real or fight it. But trust me, I’m not the only one with eyes everywhere. If you want him to believe it’s real, you need to make everyone think it is.”

“What don’t I know?”

He clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Let me worry about that.”

“Let you…” I breathe out a chuckle. “Remind me what you’re getting out of this, Declan.”

“It’s not important.”

“Really?” I take a step back. “Because we both know you hate me as much as I hate you. Which can only mean whatever you’re doing this for must be pretty important. I’m not the only one getting something, which means you need me too.”

He ticks his head, and when I expect he might actually back down, he grins, meeting my challenge. Reaching up again, he brushes his thumb over my lower lip.

“You underestimate how much I enjoy watching you suffer. Maybe that’s enough. Continue talking to me like that, and you’ll be choking on a lot more than your words by the time I’m done with you,” Declan warns, taking a step back. “See you tonight, Teal.”

7

Don’t Mistake Tonight For Me Liking You

Teal

Declan’s car smells likehe does.

Like peppermint.

Soap.

Judgment.

Sinking down into the cold leather passenger seat, goosebumps prickle my skin.

I waited for him outside my dorm so my roommates wouldn’t see him pick me up. Regardless of what he said earlier, I’m not ready for them to know about us. I don’t have the energy to explain it to them. So, as far as they’re concerned, I’m playing the good daughter tonight for my mom’s sake. Wearing a ridiculously fancy dress and pretending to give a shit about one of her many charities.

If it were up to me, I would have hidden what I’m up to completely. But after a dress was unexpectedly delivered to our dorm this afternoon, I had no choice but to say something.

I told them it was from my parents, but even without a note, I knew that wasn’t true. Pinned to the hanger was a fake sunflower, and Declan is one of the few people who knows they’re my favorite. Something I confessed when I was still too young to know better than to trust Declan with any little secret.

It figures he remembers. He scrapes up every crumb so he can use it to inflict mental torture. His very presence is a game, and I’m tired of playing it.

If only his picking on me wasn’t the singular thing that gave purpose to my meaningless day. Because the more he digs his heels in, the harder he is to get out of my system, and I don’t know what to do with that.

Declan adjusts the heater when I shut the door behind me. He didn’t bother getting out to open the door for me because he isn’t a gentleman. Either that or maybe he was hoping to get a peek up my skirt while I climbed inside.

The slit that cuts up my thigh made it nearly impossible to find underwear that wouldn’t show, and the buttery purple fabric is so smooth it slips away to reveal my leg no matter how many times I try to cover myself.

“Well, don’t you look presentable?” Declan smirks, not looking directly at me, as he grips the steering wheel and pulls away from the curb.

I brush my palms down the shimmery lavender dress, unsure what to make of his comment. It’s almostnice. As if anything Declan says can be considered that.

My hands rest on my thighs, and I feel the heat of my palms through the dress. The fabric is so thin I might as well be wearing nothing to shield me from the crisp chill of the night.

It’s a beautiful dress; I’ll give Declan that. Even if it is a symbol of how he’s just like my father. Dressing me up to meet whatever expectations he has for a girl at his side.

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