Page 19 of Watch Your Back (Devil’s Backbone #2)

When we were thirteen, we went to Keystone for a ski trip with Max as our chaperone.

He was basically the only parent who would ever take us to do fun shit, instead of leaving us in boarding school year round.

Day two of the vacation, Max broke his wrist trying to beat Royce in a snowboard freestyle competition and had to visit the medical center in Silverthorne for X-rays.

While he was there, a blizzard hit and cut off the road.

We were stuck in the Essexes’ mountain chalet for four whole days with no parents to tell us no.

I used to think that was the best week of my whole life.

It’s not anymore. This one is. This week, with Ashley in my bed, underneath me, moaning and writhing in my sheets? This one, hands down, is the best week of my whole freaking life.

The only shitty part is how guilty I feel when I see the look on my best friend’s face…

T o everyone’s disappointment, Nate’s mom didn’t have a huge amount of useful information for us.

According to Heath, she just verified the information we’d already found online for ourselves.

That, for the most part, hypnosis couldn’t force someone to go against their free will or morals.

Which directly contradicted what was happening at Nevaeh…

The only thing she had said that we hadn’t considered was that some military experimental scientists several decades ago had been trialing the combination of hypnosis with drugs to break through that internal moral barrier.

She had no idea whether they’d succeeded or whether their research continued and emphasized that it was only academic gossip with no factual backing.

When the weekend rolled around, I was surprised—and apprehensive—to hear there was a Devil’s Backbone event we were expected to attend.

I spent most of the day working—my first shift back at the Club spa—and somehow got talked into covering a gap between shifts, so found myself racing back to my dorm with barely half an hour to get dolled up for what was probably another black-tie event.

“How’d you get in here without me?” I demanded, finding Royce in a sharp suit—minus jacket—sprawled out on my bed, reading a book on his Kindle. “Actually, don’t answer that. I bet you’ve had a key for months.”

His flash of teeth told me that yes, he did, and yes, he was proud of himself. Another expensive-looking garment bag was draped over the back of my desk chair and, and the seat, a matching shoebox.

“Carter is going to blow his entire inheritance on these dresses before he deals with his mom at this rate,” I muttered, totally unsurprised but also all kinds of warm and fuzzy to see he was still thinking of me.

He’d been noticeably absent most of the week, and considering how much time I’d spent at their apartment, I’d hoped to see him more.

Royce chuckled lightly. “Impossible. We need to leave in thirty minutes, though.” He quirked an eyebrow as if to tell me to hurry the fuck up, and I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, I know. Work was busy but I showered at the club already, so just chill while I do my makeup, all right?” I moved the garment bag and shoebox aside, briefly noting the little duck sitting on the box lid was blue this time.

I put some music on my little speaker to fill the silence while I sorted out my hair and makeup, so Royce didn’t need to hear my stomach rumbling, but fuck I was hungry.

I’d missed my lunch break thanks to multiple clients running late, and we definitely didn’t have time to pick up a burger on the way.

Thankfully, I’d worn enough makeup lately that I had my routine down to a cool fifteen minutes.

My hair took a whole hour to curl, thanks to the thickness and length, so I swept it up in a quick, simple high chignon and tugged a few wispy bits out to frame my face.

All the while, it felt like Royce was watching me, but when I glanced over, his attention was totally engrossed in whatever he was reading.

Which made me curious. “What are you reading?” I asked as I spritzed my updo with hairspray.

“New release from my favorite fantasy author,” he murmured, not taking his eyes off the screen as I unzipped the garment bag to see what gorgeous gown Carter had sent this time. “It’s about shifters.”

The dress was blue. I had been expecting red again, but maybe that was why the duck was blue? “Hmm?” I blinked, realizing Royce had answered and I wasn’t really listening. “Sorry, this distracted me.”

He glanced up from the screen, looking from me to the dress and back again. “Wrong size or…?”

I shook my head. “Doubt it.” Carter was borderline creepy in how perfectly tailored all my dresses had been. “But Carter usually sends red dresses.” Then again, it’d only been twice. Maybe it was just a coincidence.

Royce’s lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “You should call him and ask.”

That wasn’t suspicious at all. I narrowed my eyes at him and sighed. “You’re up to something. Cover your eyes—I need to get dressed.”

This time he rolled his eyes. “We’re not twelve, Squirrel. I think I can handle seeing your underwear without cracking a boner.”

It was a valid point. And really, how were my bra and panties any different from a swimsuit? He was more than used to seeing my ass, anyway, since I often wore just a T-shirt and panties to bed with no bra. So I shrugged and pulled my T-shirt off, tossing it into my laundry hamper.

“Sorry, I wasn’t listening before. What’s the book?” I shimmied out of my leggings that I’d worn home from work and unzipped the glittering, blue gown.

Royce didn’t answer for a moment, then cleared his throat as I stepped into the full skirt of the dress. “Uh, it’s a fantasy book about shifters. Lots of romance. You’d probably like it…the main character has multiple love interests. Maybe you can relate.”

I snickered. “Ha-ha, very funny. Zip me up?” I unclipped my bra and wiggled out of it before adjusting the strapless neckline of the gown to sit comfortably.

Royce put his Kindle down and shuffled off my bed to where I was presenting the back of my dress for him.

His fingers brushed a teasing line up my spine as he did so, and I swallowed heavily to keep from imagining he’d done that on purpose.

Obviously it was unavoidable with how snug the dress fitted.

“Thanks,” I said, moving over to check my appearance in the full-length mirror beside my door.

It fit beautifully, but then I expected nothing less from Carter Bassington.

The way it pushed my tits up without a bra was pure magic, though, and even my brows rose at how obvious my cleavage was.

“Does this look okay?” I asked Royce, spinning to face him and gesturing to my chest.

For a moment, I got no response. Nothing. Then he swiped a hand over his sunshine hair and shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, you look good. Shoes will help you not trip.”

“Thanks, genius,” I grumbled, my cheeks heating. Was I a little disappointed that all I got was “you look good”? Yes. As conceited as it was, I kind of hoped Royce would find me more attractive, but if he didn’t react to how my boobs looked in this dress? Yeah, we were deep in the friend zone.

I ducked my eyes away, sitting down at my desk to put on the midnight-blue satin pumps with dazzling jewel buckles on the toes. Then quietly searched through my paltry jewelry box for a simple necklace and matching studs. Nothing overpowering for the statement dress, just…something.

“Okay, shall we go?” I asked when I was ready, tossing my lipstick and phone into a basic black clutch.

Royce stood up from his comfy position on my bed and pulled his suit jacket on before opening my door for me.

I was still avoiding eye contact, weirdly embarrassed by my own reaction to his lack of reaction, but he grabbed my arm as I passed through the door.

I tried to pretend that I hadn’t noticed, but he gave me a little tug to stop me. “Hey. You okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” I lied, mustering up a smile. “Is Carly coming with us or meeting us there?” I gestured to her door across the hall, but Royce was watching me with a frown creasing his brow.

Eventually, he sighed. “If you say so. She’s meeting us there. I think she’s got a date.”

My brows shot up in surprise. “Get out. Why did she tell you and not me? No offense.”

Royce acted wounded, but it was with a smile on his lips.

We slipped back into a comfortable zone as we made our way down to the parking lot where my Firebird was parked.

Royce then proceeded to plead for my keys so he could drive, even offering to do my laundry in exchange.

I didn’t actually need the bribery—I hated driving in high heels—but before I handed over the keys, I made him sweeten the deal with a promise of going for pedicures with me.

“You’re so fucking weird,” I chuckled as he caressed the steering wheel when the engine started up. “Your car costs more than I could earn in a lifetime, yet you always wanna drive mine.”

“You can’t put a price on a feeling, Squirrel,” he murmured without any trace of humor as we drove out of the campus parking lot.

The party was being held in Prosper City, at one of the insanely opulent hotels where we pulled into valet. Carter had just pulled in ahead of us and waited by the foyer door as Royce handed my keys to an attendant and presented me with the claim ticket.

“Spark, you look…” Carter’s gaze dragged over me from head to toe like he was undressing me in his head.

“Lovely,” Royce finished for him. “Doesn’t she look just lovely in blue, Bass?”

I smiled, shaking my head at his teasing. “Thank you for the dress, Carter. Why the change of color, though? I thought red was your thing?”

His gaze darkened, and his jaw ticked like he was clenching his teeth.

“It is,” he muttered, cryptically. “Heath and Nate are already inside. Let’s head in.

” He offered me his arm, and I tucked my hand through without hesitation.

I had to admit, these parties were letting me live out my Disney Princess dreams and I wasn’t mad about it.

“You really do look stunning, Spark,” Carter murmured, leaning down so his lips brushed my ear as we headed into the hotel. “But I prefer you in red.”

Confusion saw me wrinkle my nose, but before I could ask why the hell he’d sent me a blue dress, I spotted Heath heading toward us with a devilish smirk and a distinctly blue pocket square tucked into his blazer.

“Ashes, holy hell, you’re breathtaking.” He took my hand, pulling me away from Carter as he dipped to kiss me.

He restrained himself to a lingering peck, which my lipstick appreciated, and I hummed with desire for more.

“You wore my dress. I’m so glad—I thought maybe Carter would beat me to the punch. ”

“I did,” Carter growled, stalking closer once more. “There were no other dresses in Spark’s room when I dropped mine off earlier.”

Heath’s smug grin spread wider. “Weird.” But from the corner of my eye, I spotted him and Royce fist-bumping behind Carter’s back. Sneaky boys.

“Blue is your duck color?” I asked Heath, noting the info in my head. Red was Carter’s duck that we’d used at that first society event I’d been invited to, but their colors must apply to more than just that one night. Carter was red, Heath was blue… “What’s your color?” I asked Royce.

He shrugged. “That’s one secret I’ll never tell.”

I snort-laughed. “Okay, Gossip Girl. Where’s Nate?”

Heath wrapped his arm around me, his hand resting on my waist as we headed for the elevators where other black-tie-attired guests waited. “Upstairs already, with Jocelyn.”

Surprise saw my lips part. “Nate’s mom is here?

Is…uh, is Max?” And my mom? Because that screamed uncomfortable situation, since I seriously doubted they had the kind of friendship that Mom and Dad still had.

Surely Mom would have mentioned it if they were attending, though.

I’d spoken to her just yesterday and told her I was coming to a party tonight with the guys.

“No, they’re not attending because Jocelyn’s here,” Heath explained with a grimace. “I don’t know how much you know, but their divorce was messy. It’s better that they’re not in the same room together.”

Well, that was a relief. A pang of sympathy vibrated in my chest, though, thinking about how awful that might have been for Nate. He would have only been ten or eleven… Maybe that was why his bond with the guys was so strong.