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I roll my eyes again as we push through the doors. “That means it will most likely be at my house then.”
She pauses, her little hand wrapping around my arm. “Elaborate, Montgomery. What does that mean?”
“Nate,” I say flatly. “His mom and my dad are married. We live together, and before you jump down my throat, I only just found out yesterday.” Yesterday feels like a century ago, because of how easygoing Nate has been with me.
Her mouth drops to the ground. “Shut. Up.”
“What?” I reply, turning her toward the buffet. My stomach is grumbling, and because of skipping dinner last night, all I had in my stomach was the apple I power-ate this morning.
“Holy shit,” she whispers in shock. Her eyes lock back onto mine. “This is fucking awesome! We’re so crashing,” she squeals out in excitement.
“Um, Tatum? It’s not crashing if we’re in my house. He’s doing it on purpose, because our parents don’t get back until Monday.” We both pile our plates with the different variety of foods they have available. Sushi and exotic fruits? Am I in school or at a five-star restaurant?
“Holy shit. No, Madison, you don’t understand. These boys never—”
Fingers slide over my eyes, blacking out my vision. Tatum sucks in a breath. Lips skim over the back of my ears as a deep growl sounds. “How do you feel about incest, little sis?” Before his hands drop from my eyes, he laughs, stumbling backward. Tatum’s jaw is about to be permanently dislocated if she isn’t careful, and when I spin around to evil eye Nate, I’m cut off by the entire cafeteria and how it had grown almost silent, watching our exchange.
“The students of Riverside Prep are just pawns in their sick and twisted games. They own this school, Madison.”
“Nate,” I hiss at him. I haven’t managed to tell him yet, but I’d really appreciate keeping a low profile.
His smile drops. “What?” he asks innocently, much like a toddler who didn’t know he wasn’t supposed to eat a cookie before dinner.
I nod toward everyone watching us, and he shrugs, locking his arm around mine. “Come sit with us.” He looks toward Tatum. “You too, Masters.” Then he pulls me down beside him.
I drop my tray on the table, moving over for Tatum to take a seat beside me. Her arm brushes against mine stiffly. I can sense her discomfort and unanswered questions, but I can answer them later. Opposite me to the left, Bishop and then Brantley sit opposite Tatum. Beside Brantley are Abel, Hunter, Eli, and Cash.
I pick up one of my sushi rolls and bite down on it, trying really hard not to make a mess, but sushi being sushi, rice ends up on my lap. Nate’s talking about the party this weekend, and when I raise my eyes up to look in front of me, I’m instantly imprisoned by Bishop’s glare. His face is blank, filled with—nothing. His strong, chiseled jaw sits taut, and his green eyes remain glued on mine. I squirm in my seat, and Tatum looks at me sideways. Her hand goes under the table, and a second later, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I reach in to take it out when Nate looks toward me. “What do you think, sis?”
“Hmm?” I ask, annoyed that he’s interfered with whatever Tatum was about to say to me.
“What kind of alcohol do you want this weekend?” he prompts, his eyes drifting between both of mine.
Damn it, he’s hella fine.
I scowl at my inner self. The hell is wrong with me? He’s basically your brother, you fuckwad.
“Oh!” I smile, my cheeks heating. “I don’t really drink.” I clutch my phone in my hand, ignoring the dark green eyes that are still peering at me from across the table.
Nate scoffs, taking one of my sushi rolls and popping the whole thing in his mouth. “That changes this weekend. It’s Brantley’s birthday. We don’t usually throw parties”—the corner of his lip kicks up as a mischievous glint darkens in his eyes—“but we do birthdays.”
I swallow past the lump that has now formed in my throat. My eyes flutter to Bishop again to find him looking down at his phone. Dropping my eyes to my lap, I slide my phone unlocked to see Tatum’s message.
Tatum – No way
Me – What?
I glance at Tatum, who has a shit-eating grin on her face. Her eyes drop down to her lap, and I wait impatiently for her text. Stretching my feet out, they collide with someone else’s under the table, so I quickly pull them back. Shit. My phone vibrates, and I look back down.
Tatum – You have a particular set of eyes on you that every girl at this school would plead for.
That’s what.
Me – What the hell are you talking about, Tatum?
“Hey!” Nate bumps my arm playfully. “Who’re you texting?”