Page 93 of Pretty When She Breaks

“Yeah, but you’re mature for your age,” he said.

I preened at the praise. He was only two years older than me, but sometimes that gap felt so big—I mean, he was graduating this year. But it felt nice for someone to be taking me seriously. I was dismissed most of the time.

“I’ve got another present for you, too,” he said, leaning close to me.

“What is it?” I asked.

His lips crashed against mine, and it seemed like every nerve in my body lit up. He pressed close to me, cupping the back of my neck. My hands curled into his black T-shirt.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered as we pulled apart, making my cheeks heat. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

His head dipped again, and I felt myself melt against his lips, but his hand didn’t tangle in my hair this time. Instead, it trailed down my neck. I shifted on the couch, pulling away as he cupped my breast.

“What’s the matter?” Prince whispered, pressing closer. “You’ve done this before, right?”

I hesitated, not wanting to tell him the truth. I didn’t want to come off as some silly, naive fifteen-year-old, not when he’d just said I was mature.

“Yeah, of course,” I said, pasting a smile back on my face.

He started kissing me again, and soon I was panting beneath him. It felt good, but it was so much…and he wasn’t slowing down. How far would he go? He kept moving further forward until I was leaning back and he was practically on top of me. He’d know I couldn’t go all the way with him, not when I was a beta, right?

“Fuck, Laurel, you taste amazing.” He groaned, and I shifted again, my nerves building as his hand pushed the skirt of my dress up.

“Wait, wait,” I said, pushing it down, anxiety lancing through me. “We can’t—we’re in public.”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “No one’s going to come back here.”

He started kissing down my neck, his hand pushing back under my dress.

“I’ve, uh, gotta pee,” I said, scrambling off the couch and standing up. Prince scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “I’ll be right back,” I promised, my cheeks heating.

He sat up to look at me. “Be quick. You know it’ll start to hurt if you leave me too long like this, right?”

My scalp prickled and my stomach lurched. Oh, shoot. I hadn’t known that.

“Yeah, I’ll be quick,” I said, pushing my way out of the booth to the washroom in the corner.

I peed, then washed my hands, staring at myself in the mirror. I splashed some water onto my heated cheeks. Prince had been so nice and got me flowers and everything. And it had felt really good to kiss him, so what was I worried about? I couldn’t be acting like a silly baby on my birthday, after all.

I fixed my hair and reapplied my lip gloss before steadying myself with a deep breath. Then I walked out of the bathroom and crept back toward the alcove, my stomach fluttering with nerves again.

I tugged aside the curtain, but Prince wasn’t there. I chewed on my lip, frowning, then heard a rustling noise to my left. As I approached, the sounds of heavy breathing got louder. I pulled aside another curtain slightly, peering inside—and froze in shock.

Prince was there, all right, but he was with Jule. He had Jule backed up against the wall, and Jule started kissing down Prince’s neck. Jules eyes flicked up and met mine, and I saw them darken for a second.

I took a step back, tears welling in my eyes before I turned and fled, running to the only safe space I knew—our hangout. I pulled my hair out of its painful updo and threw off my heels before clambering into the crawlspace and to our little nook.

I collapsed onto the blankets and then sobbed.

My eyes felt swollen and achy when I heard the sound of someone making their way toward me. Julius dropped onto the floor, his blond curls messy and his shirt buttoned wrong.

Jule paused as he saw me, as if he wasn’t expecting me to be here. He swallowed and shifted on his feet. The smell of him and Prince mixed together was pouring off him, making my stomach churn.

“Look, I—” he started, butI wasn’t having any of it.

“Stop,” I hissed, balling my hands into fists. “Just don’t.”

“Laurel, please. It’s not what you think,” Jule tried again.