She paused in the doorway then turned, her face grim. “Yes.”
“Are they from my sister?” I knew they weren’t, but I was hopeful, maybe too hopeful they were.
“No.” Her nostrils flared, I bit back a grin.
“Did you buy them?”
“No.” Cat and mouse was so fun when the mouse had an attitude. Damn, I wanted to trap her and never let her go.
“Who are they from?” I whispered.
She shrugged, looking hot as hell as she put her hands on her hips, driving me insane with the way her posture basically said, ‘Look here.’
“Mature.” I snorted and looked away, pissed that my reaction was so violent, pissed that I wanted nothing more than to kiss that tempting mouth. “Can’t we have a simple conversation? Who bought you the boots, Trace?”
“The boot fairy,” she said through clenched teeth before stomping out of the classroom, nearly colliding with the door, but stomping nonetheless.
It was the first time a girl had turned her back on me.
On purpose.
I liked it.
Too much.
I stared at the door for a few minutes then let out a low chuckle. She wanted to play games? Fine, I’d bite… and I’d enjoy it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Bite me, no really. Please?
Chase
“AH… LUNCH!” I ANNOUNCED, barging into the small room that only we guys and Mo were actually allowed to eat in. It had become custom after our second year at Elite to start separating ourselves from the student body. It gave them the view that we were untouchable, special, above them, which we were. Nixon had quickly ordered a new lunchroom built — for the specials. Sometimes we’d throw other students a bone and let them eat with us, but it was only to gain information. Most of them were so psyched they’d been invited we didn’t even have to threaten them to keep their mouths shut about what happened.
“Stop yelling.” Tex scowled from his regular seat. “Some of us didn’t get much sleep last night.”
I smirked. “You complaining about your nighttime activities, Tex?”
Nixon groaned from the head of the table. “Chase, we’re about to eat. If you could just… not, that would be great.”
I grinned as Tex chuckled and licked his lips in Nixon’s direction, taunting him.
“Hey, Nixon,” Tex piped up. “So last night I—”
“Phoenix…” Nixon interrupted what I was sure was going to be another barb about his twin sister. “…any word from your dad on the information he promised to grab us?”
Phoenix’s hands froze on his water glass. His eyebrows pinched together in thought. “Uh, not yet. I’ll ask again though. He’s been busy with orientation.”
“Well.” Nixon leaned back in his chair, and it creaked under his weight. “If the old man’s feeling a bit overwhelmed, we could always push him into an early retirement. Wouldn’t want him getting burnt-out or anything.”
Shit just got real.
Phoenix bit down on his lower lip, turning it completely white from the pressure of his teeth. “I said I’ll talk to him. He likes his job, Nixon. Don’t be a bastard.”
Nixon shrugged. “Maybe I should check into how well he’s doing his job… all things considered.”
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head at Nixon. “Just leave it for once, man.”
Nixon said nothing, his icy eyes piercing right through me, like always, while Phoenix brooded silently.
Phoenix hadn’t been the same since the night of the dance. When I’d asked him what was going on, he’d simply shrugged and said it wasn’t a big deal.
But it seemed like a big deal because suddenly Phoenix was… just off. I couldn’t really put my finger on it, but something had shifted between him and Nixon, something epic, and maybe if I wasn’t so obsessed with the new girl, I’d have time to figure out what the hell was going on, but I was a selfish bastard; therefore, I left it alone.
“So.” Tex nodded encouragingly. “Good start to lunch. Good start. Hey, bright spot in our day — no gunfire!”
“Tex,” I warned.
For one reason or another, Nixon was in one of his moods.
The door to the room clicked open. Mo strode in and took her usual seat just as the door opened again, revealing Trace.
I glanced at Nixon. His entire body went rigid.
Ah, the reason for said chipper mood.
Well, if he was going to be an ass… I managed to kick him under the table then held up my hand and waved Trace over.
Mo was busy elbowing Nixon. He was getting beat on all ends, but still no eye contact.
“Holy shit!” Phoenix slapped his hand on the table, scaring me to death. “Don’t tell me those are from the new collection! What the hell, man! You been holding out on us?” He threw his fork at me and let out a bark of laughter. I’d just been telling him how hard it was to get the new collection of shoes, on account that they kept selling out after Kim Kardashian had worn them at an outing in LA.