Both Thatcher’s and Wells’s eyebrows hiked high, but it was Thatcher to cover his face.
He pushed his hand into his dark hair, his dangly earrings twinkling. “Bro, why the fuck does she look like trash?”
I twitched, and Wells groaned. He laced his fingers atop his head. “Right?” He jutted his chin at my brother. “That’s the best you could do?”
“I mean, it’s not like I had a choice.” Bru shook his head. “She’s stubborn as hell.”
“Where the fuck did you tell her she was going?” Thatcher asked this question, and at this point, I was beyond confused.
Bru lifted a shoulder. “The movies.”
“No fucking wonder.” Thatcher’s sigh was heavy. “I mean, give her a fucking reason to put something decent on. Girls I take to the movies don’t dress up for shit.”
“Well, I’m not sure that’s saying much considering the girls who want his dumb ass.” Wells chided, nudging my brother. Bru put a fist to his mouth, trying not to laugh, but Wells was doing enough laughter for them both.
The platinum blond was roaring at this point, which shot Thatcher’s snarl in his direction.
I stalked over. “What the fuck is going on?”
All the boys’ gazes dashed in my direction. I stated the question as a blanketed one, but it was mostly directed toward my brother. I pointed toward Legacy. “What are you doing with these jerks?”
They had been jerks to me, and though Bow had given me some insight into why they were still hanging back, that didn’t deny what they’d done. Nor how they’d treated my brother. I mean, they hadn’t even gone to see him in the hospital.
Wells’s lips pinched together as if to say “ouch” after what I said, but he shouldn’t be surprised by this response. Facts were facts.
Bru cuffed his arms. “They asked me for help.”
“With what?”
“Setting you up,” Thatcher said from behind him. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “This is a setup.”
I eyed my brother, needing further explanation here, and at this point, Bru guided me away. We didn’t go far but enough for us to have some semblance of a private conversation.
“What’s going on?” I gritted. The other boys lingered over by the locker rooms. “What are they talking about?”
“Just what they said.” Bru gestured to the stadium around us. “This is a setup, and the only way to get you to come around.”
“Come around?”
Bru said nothing, Thatcher and Wells rocking on their high-tops behind us. I didn’t see Ares or Dorian around, but Thatcher and Wells didn’t do anything unless one of them asked them to do so.
They didn’t do anything unless Dorian asked them.
The dark prince was their leader, point-blank, and just today, he’d been pretty open about needing something from me.
I guess he got tired of waiting.
“Dorian,” I growled, and Bru raised his hands.
“Now, before you freak—”
“Oh, I’m already freaking out.” I shoved my hands in my hoodie. “This is a setup, and Dorian put you guys up to this.”
Bru popped a shoulder, and I started laughing at this point but found nothing funny. This was so him, and completely the opposite of what he was trying to prove to me. He said he was going to let go of control.
I had my hands laced on my head, but Bru tugged them down.
“Look. Anyone can see that you want to say yes to him,” Bru stated, his eyes serious. “That you do, but you’re so damn stubborn.”