Page 18

I WAKE UP THE NEXT MORNING with my lips feeling bruised and my brain feeling dangerously full of happiness and excitement in a way I haven’t felt in… ever, maybe? Which of course means I immediately assume it was all either a dream or a mistake, and any minute now Salem’s going to wake up and tell me the latter.

But when my phone does light up with a text from him, all it says is Beast in 5?

Despite the fact that Salem and I do eat many of our meals together, we’ve never, ever planned it, which does seem to confirm the possibility that last night was real and there will be more kissing in our future. I text back a quick confirmation, and then look at the other text that’d been waiting for me this morning.

Sabrina

fucking finally

My smile at that is so huge, it’s somehow embarrassing me even with no one in the room to see it. But I don’t have time to dwell on my relief at getting Sabrina’s blessing, so I run to brush my teeth and throw on clothes.

And in five—okay, seven, because punctuality still isn’t Salem’s strong suit—minutes, when a knock sounds at the door and I swing it open, the smile that spreads slowly over Salem’s extremely kissable mouth when he says “Hi” would suggest that last night was very, very real indeed.

“Hi,” I say back, feeling inexplicably shy. This is Salem, and yet I suddenly have no idea what to do in his presence. Can I kiss him? Can I take his hand? Do we have to keep us a secret because of Jenna or just my generally being an embarrassing human?

He leans against the doorway, his long, lean body filling the frame and making it even harder to think. “Having second thoughts?” he asks, his lips still twitching with a smile that suggests he does not actually think that’s what’s going through my brain.

“Just… trying to figure out what to do here.”

His smile widens with a mocking lilt, and apparently, having feelings for somebody doesn’t mean you give them a break, ever. “What is it you want to do here?”

“Salem, stop being annoying. You know what I mean.”

“Are we having a ‘how do we label this’ conversation already?”

Great, another concern to add to the pile. “Well, we weren’t, but—”

“Evie.” Finally, Salem cuts me some slack, grabbing my bag from where it sits at my feet and slinging it over his shoulder, then pulling me out of the room with his other hand. “Shut your brain off for five seconds and let’s go get breakfast.”

I nod and close the door behind me, waiting for him to give me my bag or let go of my hand.

He does neither.

“You’re my boyfriend, aren’t you,” I say with wonder as he pushes through the exit onto campus.

“That’s kinda the position I’ve been angling for, yeah,” he says without missing a beat. His thumb softly strokes the inside of my palm, sending jolts of lightning throughout my entire body, and it’s so unfathomable to me that it can be like this, feel like this.

Why did I ever give a shit about Craig or Lucas when they were never, ever capable of making me feel anything like this?

“You okay?” Salem asks, and I realize I’ve stopped walking, and now, so has he.

I rise up on my uninjured toes—he is really damn tall—and throw my arms around his neck, kissing him with every ounce of strength in my body, despite the fact that we are very much in public. I don’t care. I can’t wait. And judging by the way an arm circles my waist, holding me close as he kisses me back, his corded leather bracelets pressing into my skin as if to leave no doubt as to whose arm it is, he doesn’t mind one bit. Not even when people start whistling and catcalling.

“Wow, okay,” he says, a little dazed, when we finally part and I retake his hand, swinging it as we walk toward the Beast. “So that’s a yes on the whole boyfriend thing, then?”

“Were you looking for a ‘how do we label this’ conversation?” I ask in disbelief.

“In my defense,” he starts, and I love that his vampiric skin can’t hide the hint of heat creeping into it, “my parents have been bugging me about you every single day. I just wanted to know what I was supposed to tell them.”

“Tell them the wedding’s still on, and I’m ready to call them Mom and Dad as soon as they are. Which I guess was probably last week.”

“Now I’m having second thoughts.”

“No, you’re not,” I say, and it feels so good to trust it. Well, mostly trust it—it’s not like I’ve shed all my baggage.

“No, I’m not.” He pulls me close and kisses the top of my head, and I float the rest of the way to breakfast.

Of course, the bliss lasts only a few minutes, and then, as I’m standing in line for waffles while Salem heads to the fruit table for his apple, I bump into the most smug, annoying smile on the entire campus. “All those guys in Rumson and you choose to fuck Grayson?”

Ugh, Duncan. Of course he would find a way into my space when I’m just trying to enjoy my waffles. I whirl around and meet his mocking gaze with my own. “All those guys in Rumson and you choose the role of Archie’s bootlicker? It doesn’t seem like you’re in any position to dole out relationship advice.”

His face turns a satisfying shade of red at that, but whatever nasty reply was hovering on his lips dies the very instant a solid arm wraps around my shoulders. “Hey, Peach.” Salem takes a big bite of green apple and chews loudly. “Did you know that Duncan here’s nickname at his old school was Crustysox? I guess he didn’t know how to do his own laundry. Still, such a strange choice of moniker…”

I barely smother a laugh behind my hand as Duncan’s flush gets even more fierce. “You two are so fucking annoying,” he mutters as he moves on.

“Key word: fucking!” I call after him, relishing the look of disgust I get in response.

Salem looks down at me, a smile playing on his lips. “Did you just lie about us having sex in order to look cool? You are a Rumson guy.”

“Oh, shut up.” I dig an elbow into his side, and he laughs. “He started it.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining. I like where your mind’s at.”

I roll my eyes, but kiss him anyway. I’ve already told him I’m not ready to move at the speed he did with Jenna—and unlike Lucas, he was perfectly cool with it—but that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about it. Constantly. Which he does not need to know. Yet.

“I’m gonna get us seats,” he says as my turn comes up on the waffle line, giving my fingers a quick brush with his. I allow myself a few seconds to watch his butt as he goes, then treat myself to a perfect golden waffle I fully intend to bury in whipped cream and berries. I get my bliss back for all of one minute before yet another boy swoops in to ruin it with the worst four-word sentence in the English language.

“We need to talk.”

Salem’s been gone for two seconds, and already I’m regretting letting him leave my side. “What could I possibly have to say to you, Lucas?” God, there really are trash boys everywhere you look, but I guess I’m evolving because I sure can pick ’em out now.

“Can we please talk somewhere else?” He touches my arm as he asks, and I instinctively pull it away. It’s amazing how quickly you can go from dying for someone to kiss you to finding their touch utterly repulsive.

“No, right here’s good, if you must say something.” The line moves down, and I grab the whipped cream and spray on thick spirals. “Though if this is about Heather, no, I haven’t said a word.”

“It’s not about Heather,” he says through gritted teeth, even though I haven’t seen her in the room. “It’s—did you do it because of me?”

I move on down the table toward the berries and pour on a pile. “Do what because of you?”

“The window.” He gestures down at my ankle, still wrapped in an Ace bandage and surrounded by a boot. “Did you throw yourself out of a window because of me?”

I blink. “Are you for real?”

“Can you just answer the question?”

I glance past him at my table, where Salem’s doing some thing on his phone, paying no attention to me and Lucas. He’s got a green apple in hand, and his hair hanging in his eyes, and all I want to do is brush it back into place. Truly, I do not have time for a minute more of Lucas Burke’s bullshit.

“I didn’t throw myself out of a window, period,” I snap, keeping my voice low, “but even if I had, rest assured that your being a lying, cheating asshole would not be the reason. You’re someone else’s problem now, much as I think she deserves way, way better than you.”

If my venomous response has fazed him at all, it doesn’t show. “You better not say a word to her.”

I roll my eyes. “I didn’t, and I won’t, because I’m not interested in hurting her, and you’re the person she should find out from. Personally, I think Heather deserves better than being lied to. I did tell my boyfriend.” God, that feels good. “But you do you, as long as you do it far the fuck away from me.”

His eyes are burning a hole in my back as I make my way toward Salem, but he doesn’t stop me, and I don’t turn around. I can’t prevent him from being in my English class or dating my friend, and I’ll have to see him around far more than I’d like (read: ever), but he’s taken all he’s going to get from me, and he doesn’t get another minute.

Bad Apple Evie is racking up a whole lotta points this morning.

Salem looks up as I put my tray down, and he gestures to where his phone lies on the table. “You didn’t get my text, I take it.”

“Like, just now? No.” I pull out my phone, and sure enough, there’s a message from Salem.

Want me to kill him and make it look like an accident?

I bite my lip to stop an embarrassing smile from spreading over my face as Salem takes another bite of his apple, the juice spraying onto my cheek. He wipes it off gently with his thumb, and I send my own reply text:

Wanna cut English and make out?

He laughs as his phone buzzes with the message, and we text-flirt through the rest of breakfast. When we do head out to English—a far inferior choice to my plan, but whatever—I see Lucas taking stock of us from across the room, registering exactly who my boyfriend is, a.k.a. the only other person on campus who knows his secret.

I should probably warn Salem before they face each other on the court tomorrow night.

Although, who am I kidding—Salem could wipe the floor with him.

And I’ll be there to cheer him on when he does it.

Word must travel fast, because Isabel catches up with me on my way back to Rumson from Baking Club, helps herself to one of the raspberry scones in the box I’m transporting, and says, “So, you finally pulled your head out of your ass. Congratulations.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong—I’m glad you held out so long; you made me fifty bucks. Matty thought for sure you’d hook up within twenty-four hours of the talent show, but I said, ‘No, I know my girl Evie—she is absolutely going to find some way to bungle this.’ And look! I was right!”

I stop in my tracks and turn to her, watching her take a delicate bite of a scone I just pulled out of the oven fifteen minutes ago. “He wasn’t even single that night! Wouldn’t I have been an asshole for kissing your best friend’s boyfriend?”

“Please, that was a technicality. The only reason she didn’t dump his ass on the spot was because we were in public.”

“Okay, well, technicality or not, I don’t fool around with other people’s boyfriends.” At least not on purpose. “Have been on the receiving end. Am not a fan.”

“Such a good girl, Everett. Matt’s not right about a lot, but he was right about that.”

“I don’t know about that,” I say as we resume walking, although I have no intention of elaborating. “But why were you and Matt even talking about me?”

“Well, he had to convince me that we should tell you about Salem and Jenna hooking up. He said you deserved to know, that it would take forever for you to figure out you had feelings for him otherwise. He can be very persuasive when he feels like it.”

“Matt said what ?” I shake my head. “And you didn’t tell me about Salem and Jenna,” I point out, breaking the edge off another scone.

Isabel rolls her big green eyes. “Does Jenna really strike you as the type to leave her underwear behind, Evie? Or have you considered that maybe, just maybe, someone put them there for you to find.”

Someone put them… “How could you possibly know I’d find them?”

“First of all, I saw you at the poker night, getting all comfy in his bed; I knew you’d end up back there. But just in case, there were five different pairs hidden around Salem’s stuff. You owe me a hundred bucks, by the way.”

“Cute. And completely ridiculous.”

She swallows the last bite of her scone and grins. “You say that like it didn’t work. Tell me it didn’t work.”

I keep my mouth shut. You don’t need to be in AP Psych to know when you’re not winning a battle against Isabel McEvoy. “Honestly, I can’t believe you’re still allowed to talk to me. I’d think Jenna hates me.”

“She does,” Isabel says coolly, “but she’s Jenna; she’ll find someone new by next week and forget all about Salem.”

“And me?” I ask hopefully.

“Oh, no—you, she’s gonna hate forever.”

I laugh, assuming Isabel’s kidding, then stop when it becomes obvious that she isn’t. “Oh.”

“Yeah, she’s like that.”

“And you still wanna take the risk of being friends with me? Is this a ‘keep your friends close, enemies closer’ type of thing?”

“No, please, I’m not that bored,” she says with a snort. “But I think you’re interesting. You surprise me. Not a lot of people manage to do that.”

“I can’t tell if that’s more egotistical or patronizing.”

“See?” She flashes a broad smile. “Who talks like that to me? Nobody.”

“But like, what was even the point? Why did you even need a middleman? Jenna could get any guy she wants by just blinking pointedly in his direction. Did she really think he wouldn’t fall down at her feet if she just said hi?” I mean, I like to think he wouldn’t, but I’m a realist.

Isabel fixes me with a Look. “You do know he’s a sophomore, right? Jenna would never.”

“Jenna did, ” I remind her. “And I’m a sophomore too.”

“Okay but it’s one thing to be friends or hook up with a sophomore when you’re a junior; it’s an entire other thing to pursue one.” She nods down between us. “Honestly, this friendship is bad enough.”

“I really appreciate your humbling yourself.” I’m not even entirely sure I’m kidding.

“Well, there is one more thing I want, and before you get mad, I’m telling you. Directly. So this is different, and born of friendship.”

“I suppose I can appreciate that. What is it? A voodoo doll of Salem’s hair? A lifetime supply of scones? A kidney?”

“Nothing like that, you drama queen.”

“What, then?” I ask as we reach the fork on campus where we’ll part ways.

At first, I assume from the smirk on her face that she isn’t going to tell me after all. But then she wraps an arm around my waist, pulls me close enough to kiss my cheek, and says, “Hook me up with your boyfriend’s sister.”

Then she winks and heads down the path toward Hillman, leaving my jaw on the ground.