Page 73 of Reckless Hearts

Only when I do, he’s never smiling at me.

He’s glaring at me.

Eviscerating me.

Turning me to dust and ash with his very eyes.

The second one is Deimos Drakos.

Chase might be king of this school. But he’s not the only king, just the golden one. The dark lord of Knightsblood, the complete opposite of Chase in almost every way, the Darth Vader to Chase’s Luke Skywalker, is Deimos.

So—yeah. Sometimes when I get that tingling sensation that I’m being watched, I look up and it’s Chase, smiling from across the dining room. But other times, it’s the dark, swirling malicious gaze of Deimos that I see.

If I was normal, and if I didn’t have the dark, blood-soaked baggage of my past chained to my ankles, I’d have enough sense to keep as far away from Deimos as possible. To avoid him. Tonotlook up when I feel those malevolent eyes burning into me.

Except I don’t seem to be capable of doing that. Something about him draws me in, even if I know it’s dangerous.

There are good and bad men in this world. My mother has taught me my whole life to have the good sense to stay clear of the latter.

So why the hell can’t I?

It’s mid-afternoon, and I’m rushing from my sociology lecture to my French lit class when I feel it: that tingling feeling of being watched. My skin prickles, and I quickly stop and whirl to see which of the two opposites are lurking behind me.

The fact that my heart sinks a little when I see that it’s Chase is probably grounds to go seek professional help immediately.

But I can’t help it. IknowDeimos is bad. I know he’s a lurking force of darkness, and when he’s looking at me, he’s probably trying to figure out how to devour my mortal soul or sell me into slavery or something. He always looks at me as if I’vewrongedhim somehow, though I have no idea what I’ve done that could possibly make him think that, aside from the fact that through Chase, I’ve hung out at the Para Bellum mansion a couple of times. And I know that club is huge rivals with Deimos’ club, The Reckless. But that can’t be the sole reason he looks at me like that, surely. I mean, talk about petty.

There’s something else about Deimos I can’t extricate myself from, too. It’s as if the darkness swirling around him like a storm cloud has a way of hooking itself into my very psyche and drawing me closer.

Deimos is the car crash you shouldn’t look at, but somehow can’t avoid craning your neck to stare at. He’s the swirling scent of cigarette smoke in the crisp fall air that youknowis bad for you, but it just smells so damnnicewith the crunchy fall leaves and the scent of apples and coffee that it makes you want to have one right the fuck now.

He’s the music you play too damn loud, even if you know it’ll leave your ears ringing. And God help me, I can’t for the life of me stop my thoughts from gravitating to him, even when he stares at me like that.

Especiallywhen he stares at me like that.

But I digress. It’s not Deimos who’s caught my attention just now.

Chase grins. After I smile back, my eyes drop, and I blush.

He’s holding a bouquet of…wait for it…dahlias in his hands.

“Hey, Dahlia.” He grins that charming, magazine cover model grin at me. “So, look, I don’t want to be too forward, but…” He shrugs, winking at me. “Eh, forget it, I’m gonna be forward. I’d love it if you came to the Halloween Ball with me.”

My heart flip-flops.

Hang on. What? We’ve covered that real life isnota John Hughes movie. This really isn’t Jake Ryan asking Samantha Baker out inSixteen Candles.

Or is it?

“What?” I blurt, immediately cringing at my less-than-smooth response. I swallow, blushing fiercely as Chase continues to smile at me. “I mean… You mean me?”

He chuckles and steps toward me. “Of course I mean you! It doesn’t have to mean anything crazy, but I’d love to go with you, Dahlia. I’d love to…” He shakes his head and looks away. Then he turns back to grin at me again. “I’d just love to take you. I think we’d have a great time.”

I chew on my lip, blushing fiercely. People are walking past us, and every single one of them is staring at Chase like he’s gone crazy, and at me like I’m the one who’s whacked him over the head and made him forget he can have literally any girl on campus that he wants.

“I don’t know, Chase…”

I cringe inside. Here comes my self-sabotage. It’s something I’ve perfected, a product of years of making sure no guy could ever get close to me.

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