Stuck With The Four Hotties

I’m the last one to get downstairs, dressed in an outfit I bought for myself when Miranda and I went shopping yesterday. Her eyes glittered when she saw me in, but still, I feel a tad self-conscious …

“Holy shit,” Zayd says as I come down the first curve of the staircase and pause on the landing. I feel like Janey Briggs in Not Another Teen Movie, when she makes a slo-mo appearance on the stairs and then falls through them. Yep, that’d be me for sure. I should never have let Miranda make us watFh that damn movie. “Charity, you clean up good.”

“Don’t call her Charity,” Zack growls, his brown eyes narrowed as he takes in the rock star with no small amount of distaste.

“As long as it’s in jest, I don’t mind,” I say, continuing down the steps as Miranda and Andrew exchange a knowing look and then smile at me. Creed is lounging on the couch, draped over it like a boneless king. He pretends not to be looking, but I can feel his gaze like it’s made of flames.

Tristan, meanwhile, is standing in the open front door with his back to me, having a low conversation with Myron Talbot. Myron is broad-shouldered, dark-haired, and several inches shorter than Tristan. Despite that, he’s got a lean, muscular build, and a shadowed expression that makes me believe all the things that Zayd said about him.

Lizzie is standing nearby, her arms crossed over her chest. As soon as she lifts her gaze and sees me, she smiles big and pushes between the two boys.

“Leather pants? Girl, that ass.” Lizzie skips over, throws her arms around me, and gives me a huge hug. She pulls back, her dark curls frothing around her shoulders, her amber eyes sparkling. She’s dressed in denim short-shorts, and a loose yellow tank with big arm holes. Underneath, I can see her black bikini top.

“It’s a bit out of my comfort zone,” I hedge, wondering where Windsor is. He’s such a big presence that when he’s not in the room, there’s this noticeable absence. “Do I look okay? I know leather pants and beach parties don’t exactly go …”

“But look at these zippers,” Miranda crows, appearing beside me and grabbing the zipper at my hip. Before I can stop her, she’s grabbed it and dragged it halfway down, the leather peeling apart and my entire thigh and left butt cheek showing. All the guys notice.

I make a choking sound, and snatch it back from her, zipping myself into the leather again.

“What do you think, Tristan?” Miranda asks, turning to look at him as he steps back into the house with Myron on his heels. I elbow her because, like, why is she drawing his attention my way?

Tristan’s gaze rakes over me, over my white Burberry Prep tank covering my new swimsuit, the leather pants underneath, and the wedge sandals that I’m sure will be the death of me. If I end the night without a twisted ankle, I’ll be shocked. But I want to make an appearance tonight, stand up to Harper and … A cold chill sweeps over me as yet again, I think about how badly things could’ve gone. This isn’t a game anymore. Maybe it never was?

“You look nice,” Tristan says, and his voice is beyond bland. He may as well be looking at a freshly painted wall or something. My gaze locks on his gray one, and he holds it without shame. There’s a darkness there, behind his eyes, that catches my attention anyway.

“Nice?” a voice calls out, just before Windsor appears from the direction of the kitchen. He has what looks like a strawberry daiquiri in his hand that he presents to me. “You’re a fucking vision, Marnye Reed.” He hands the drink over with a bright grin. “A virgin daiquiri for the virgin girl.”

“Jesus,” I choke, but I take the drink anyway as Windsor’s hazel eyes sweep me up and down, and he leans in to give me a kiss on the cheek.

“You’re so rude,” Miranda says, hooking her arm through mine as Windsor presents her with a second drink. “But I forgive you since you mixed drinks for everyone.”

“It’s one of my passions,” Windsor says, stepping back and putting his hands on his hips as he looks me over yet again. He’s dressed in white shorts, a white tank, and black sandals. His red hair seems even brighter paired with the monochrome outfit. “If I weren’t a royal, I’d have been a bartender. Even Mum agrees.”

“Fascinating,” Zack says with a roll of his eyes. He’s wearing bright red shorts and absolutely no shirt. His hair is wet and slicked back, like maybe he’s already gone swimming today. We look at each other, and my heart skips a few beats. Fight for me, I think as I exhale. But even then, I’m confused.

I’ve never had crushes on more than one guy at a time. Now … my heart doesn’t know what to do. I feel pulled in several different directions, and the angst feels like it’s going to kill me already.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Zack says, reaching out to give my hand a squeeze. I smile, and when he lets go, I curl my hands around my drink, so I don’t have to feel them tingling. Zayd watches our entire interaction, and then exhales sharply, his jaw tightening, like he’s just made a decision about something. I have no idea what that is because Tristan’s just stepped forward, and without having to say a thing, he’s drawn everyone’s attention his way.

Well, everyone but Windsor. The prince dances back into the kitchen and appears with more drinks, passing them out to Lizzie and Andrew first, and then grudgingly to Myron, the Idols, and Zack.

“Harper and the rest of the Bluebloods will be at the party tonight,” Tristan says, and I can tell by the way his eyes narrow that he’s thinking about that night at the Royal Pointe lodge. At the end of this year, we’ll have another school-sponsored trip back to that same lake. Closing my eyes, I suck in a deep breath and try not to think too hard about it. “We don’t talk to them, and we don’t acknowledge them.”NôvelDrama.Org (C) content.

“How, exactly, will that help?” Windsor inserts as I look around and realize that the people gathered here, don’t have much of a connection. Or if they do, not much of a good one. Lizzie and Tristan are exes with unresolved feelings, Windsor hates the Idols and vice versa, Andrew was kicked out of the Bluebloods, and Zack is an outlier that most of them have hated from day one.

What a group of misfits we are.

“They’re dead to us. Everyone needs to know that. The rest, we deal with later.” Tristan turns to go, and I grab onto his arm. He pauses and looks

down at me for a second before threading his arm through mine. I’m so completely and utterly shocked that my mouth drops open and I nearly let my drink slip from my fingers. “Don’t stray too fa

r, and I’ll keep you safe.”