Page 38 of Die for You

“We don’t hang out with people we don’t like.” Juliet plops into a booth without waiting to be seated and folds her arms.

“Good. I like hanging out with you two.”

Juliet snorts. “Yeah, just us two.”

I choose to ignore her. “You want some water or something while you wait?”

“Sure,” Juliet grumbles at the same time Sienna slides into the booth with her and calls, “Could I have a lemonade?”

“No problem. I’ll be right back.” Finally, some decent customers.

I head to the kitchen to grab their drinks, the usual heaviness on my chest already feeling lighter. Sadly, I can’t remember the last time I actually had something to look forward to. I’m not sure whether Sienna and Juliet showed up here of their own accord or if the Devils put them up to it—a not-at-all-subtle wayto keep tabs on me—but at this point, I don’t really care. I like hanging out with Sienna and Juliet, and if the Devils encouraged them to invite me to their girls’ night, then I’m glad they did.

Maybe having three unhinged hockey players stick their noses in your business isn’tallbad.

Not that I’ll ever admit that to them.

“Do you know those girls?” Leah asks, peeking her head out of the kitchen while I pour Sienna’s lemonade.

“Yeah. We all go to Diamond.”

“Huh. And who’s that guy with them? Your boyfriend?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” I grab both of their glasses. Trey or Luke must’ve shown up. So much for a girls’ night.

When I step out of the kitchen, I nearly drop the glasses.

Juliet is out of her seat, arms folded and glaring at the man towering beside her. Sienna’s eyes are round, glinting with fear, while the easy smile never slips from the man’s face.

“Fuck,” I hiss.

“What?” Leah doesn’t bother lowering her voice. “Who is that?”

“You don’t watch hockey, do you?”

She scoffs. “No, I don’t watch sports. Except for those videos where the baseball players are dancing on the field. Have you seen those? Their asses in those pants? Holyshit. If sports were likethat, I’d watch them.”

I shove past Leah, already tuning her out. With every step, my heart hammers harder, the condensation on the glasses making my palms slick. Every instinct in my body tells me to sprint in the other direction, but he’s blocking my exit.

All three of them turn to face me, and I want to burst into flames like a phoenix and crumble to ash.

“Hey, Rora.” Jeremiah’s familiar voice turns my stomach, bile rising to my throat.

He’s nearly unrecognizable with his grown-out facial hair. Now that he’s not playing hockey anymore, he’s starting to lose muscle mass. The alcohol consumption isn’t helping the lines on his forehead or his complexion. So different from the seventeen-year-old he was when we met. When I fell for the act like everyone else.

But I fell so much harder.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

I set the glasses down on Sienna and Juliet’s table. If looks could kill, Jeremiah would’ve been murdered by Juliet already. Even though I wouldn’t mess with her—and from what I’ve learned of her reputation, most people on campus fear her—she has no idea who she’s really dealing with.

“How’ve you been? I’ve missed you.”

Missed me? You mean you miss having someone to control.

“What are you doing here?” God, I hate the quake in my voice.

They say in a dangerous situation, your body will react with a stress response: fight, flight, or freeze.