Page 41 of Cruel Academy (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 2)

Caleb, all business, ignores me. “Try it.”

Without thinking, I swing my leg up between both of his. Caleb bellows in pain and stumbles backwards, letting go of me.

“I did it!” I say with a clap and a smile.

“If by that you mean nearly ruined my future plans for a family, then yes,you did it.” His pink mouth is turned down in a deep scowl. “We are role-playing here, Haley. For fuck’s sake, you can’t actually kick me in the balls. It’s pretend.”

My face warms. “Oh. I didn’t realize.”

He snorts. “Didn’t realize I wasn’t going to let you kick me in the balls repeatedly for the next few weeks?”

I’m not really sure what I was thinking, but I apologize and we reset, trying the move again and again.

I swing my leg up and stop just short of the apex of his athletic shorts.

After five fake kicks, Caleb finally stops flinching and begins to trust me.

After ten, my leg is beginning to burn.

After fifteen, sweat is gathering across my chest and under my arms. I can feel my leg shaking, and the move is slow and clumsy.

Caleb lets go of me and backs away, calling for a break.

“Strength training, definitely,” he says, mostly to himself.

Then, he walks into the kitchen, grabs a glass bottle of water from the fridge, and takes a long drink.

My family is wealthy now, but we aren’t glass-water-bottle wealthy. Apparently, this is how the other half lives.

I wait for him to offer me one, and when he doesn’t, I walk into the kitchen and take it. I’m too thirsty to worry about the consequences. I take a drink and wipe my wrist across my mouth.

“So, why do you fight?”

He raises his brows in silent question.

“You asked why I wanted to train. Well, why did you start? Why do you go to the fights every week?”

“I like to fight.”

“That’s it? You just enjoy being beat down and hurting other people?”

“I don’t get beat down,” he says. “I do the beating. You know that.”

I don’t know what I expected him to say. Aside from the brief moments of concern he has shown me in my times of need, Caleb has never seemed especially deep. From the outside, his motives for everything are shallow and self-serving.

He likes to beat people up because he can.

He likes to sleep with lots of girls because he can.

If he has a larger purpose driving his motivations, I don’t see what it could be, and he doesn’t seem keen to reveal it. Part of me thinks he just likes being an asshole.

But I know that’s not the whole truth. Because this asshole saved me—twice. I don’t know what that makes him. And I don’t know whether I’ll ever get the chance to find out.

“Don’t fucking judge me.”

The acid in Caleb’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “What? I wasn’t—”

“You were,” he spits. “Another thing we should work on is keeping things closer to your vest. Your every thought is written on your face. It’s annoying when you’re being judgmental, and it’s dangerous in a fight. You tend to glance at where you’re aiming before you strike. It’s how I’ve always been able to stop your embarrassing attempts to hurt me.”

---