Page 79 of Vicious Saint
“You look so pretty, Hen!” someone calls out, and when my eyes connect with the source of the soft timbered voice I find Bex. She squeals as she makes her way toward me dressed in a strapless bodycon appropriate for the heat.
Alongside Archer, far less practical in a gray tux.
“Fuck, Hen! That dress is wearingyou.” He grabs my hand and lifts it over my head, whistling as he twirls me around. “Gahhhhhdamn, girl!”
When Archer releases me, I adjust the sides of my dress, still unable to shake the idea of being one of the only teens in the room over a size twelve.
I make it a point never to appear insecure about my weight, especially to the kids at Riverside Prep, because the second they smell insecurity they use it as a firearm.
And like I said, I love my body head to toe.
But I’m also human.
“Can you believe this room is only for the first half of the night?” Bex chuckles as she retrieves a glass of wine fromthe bartender, referring to the myriad of waterfall chandeliers, marble pillars, and authentic gold accents.
“I know, right?” Archer chimes in with a scoff. “Not a sax in sight. Totally underwhelming.”
Bex and I roll our eyes as the rival trio of ours make their way into the room like royalty.
Unfortunately, it includes the bane of my existence, who spent the majority of the limo drive to the hotel with an exaggerated sense of excitement for his newfound family.
I called bullshit, and Saint called me over to ride his face so he could prove how serious he really was.
In front of everyone, including uncles, aunts, cousins, and even Theory, who looked more amused than him.
I quickly became aware of Saint’s intent to kill me with sexual innuendos tonight, assuming he can crack me open with charming threats.
Which hasn’t faltered a beat since we had our moment in The Pit. In fact, every one the past couple of months have been watered down with candy and compliments.
Perusing eyes.
Licking of bottom lips.
I’m not stupid. His display of affection isn’t physical, it’s mental. The higher my confidence, the harder my fall from grace. This is why I refuse to take the bait.
What amazes me, though, is how good he is at faking it.
A gust of sadness washes over Bex’s face as the boys close in on us, no doubt missing her boyfriend Crayton.
“Yo, yo, yo!” Riggs holds his arms out wide, squeezing me into a sideways hug so tight my drink spills over the rim.
I shove him off. “This dress is Celine, dumbass.”
“Eh,” he waves me off, “I’m sure Archer’s got like seven spares lying around his closet for you to use.”
And just like that, Archer lunges for Riggs, who cackles like a hyena as Levi holds my best friend back with one hand. Not a word is said, but his threat is clear through the side eye.
Here’s the thing about our newfound alliance, the only one of us who has truly crossed the Royal Heathen line is Bex, and that’s simply because she’s with the previous leader.
Me and Arch? We’re still the undecided commoners.
Fine by me since I don’t need anyone besides him and Bex.
“Cut the shit, Leviathan,” Bex scolds him with a gentle backhand slap to his arm.
He immediately releases Archer.
“Aw, don’t look so glum, Carrot Top.” Riggs frowns at Archer, always playing on the fact he’s got a head full of red hair. “I’m sure she’ll return it safe and sound.”
