Page 91 of The Deceptions

I shake my head when he clears his throat, and his cheeks flame red.

“Sometimes. Fought my cousin a lot.” He almost smiles at that, but holds back.

I snort. “If you ever want to work out or get in the ring to really throw down, come to the gym on 5thStreet. Shades Gym.”

Oliver nods a few times, taking a step back. “Uh, thanks,” he says softly again, losing the gruffness of his voice before walking away quickly.

I eye Mack one last time before walking home with my hands in my pockets.

The moment I walk through the front door, the scent of steaks grilling fills my nose.

“Mal?” I call out, walking into the kitchen, and raise my brows.

There stands a tried-and-true psychopath. A man I witnessed ram a tire iron through the throat of a traitor, wearing a blue apron that says ’Kiss the Cook’.

“Old Chap!” He claps slightly, putting a plate on the counter. “You’re home. I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving,” I say wearily, sitting at the kitchen island. “What’s with all this?” First the damn emojis. Now steak? Mal’s behavior is erratic at best on his good days and downright terrifying on bad days.

Right now? He looks like someone has plucked the stress from his shoulders and relieved him.

This is almost like the night he lost his V card to the woman in the bathroom. For the next forty-eight hours, he was a goddamn joy.

“Good night and day!” he sing-songs, putting his plate beside mine and getting himself a beer and me a Coke.

“Care to elaborate?” I raise a brow when he cuts into his barely cooked steak and takes a bite.

He grins at me, cutting into another piece as the juices stain his plate red.

“Boss Man has finally given us the green light to recruit. Buck up, Old Chap. We’ve got people to woo.”

“Woo?” I wrinkle my nose, cutting into my rare steak. “We don’t woo people. We…”

“Seduce?” He gives me a bloody grin. “Intrigue? Kidnap?” His eyes light up at the word kidnap.

“No kidnapping. You know the rules. We have to play fair.”

Mal pouts, finishing off his steak in a hurry. “But I don’t like to play fair. I like to play dirty and rough.” There’s something in his grin that has my hackles rising. Like he knows something I don’t know.

“Mal?” I question with a sigh.

“Don’t worry, Old Chap.” He claps my shoulder a few times before standing and taking his plate to the sink. “This year will change everything.” He wiggles his brows and then disappears, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Change everything? I want to think he means we can build our ranks and finally take Franco down. It’s our boss’s desire, anyway. But the way Mal smiled and wiggled his brows has me questioning him.

Fuck.

It’s beentwo days since I’ve heard anything from Carter. Two long days of classes, dorm life, and getting used to being Oliver.

Oliver Davenport.

It's weird to say the name aloud. I'm a fraud. Undercover. Deceiving everyone around me.

But the more I’m in this skin, the easier it gets to convince myself and the world I'm a man named Oliver. In the silence of my dorm room, I slightly relax under the thick covers of my bed, hiding myself from my roommates. It's the only sliver of space I can unwind and become Olivia again.

Thankfully, Dane hasn’t slept over again. Instead, he spends all his time with a tall brunette–usually attached to her lips. They’re all over campus together, giggling. Hell, I think I saw him actually smile once. Thank God. You know, the last thing I ever want to see is Dane’s gross morning wood again. Do dicks just pop up to remind you they're there every morning? Ugh.

It works for me, though.