Touched By The Devil (Boys of Preston Prep 3)

Progress.

Never let it be said that Sebastian Wilcox doesn’t take any opportunity by the balls.

The following Wednesday, I park myself in the lobby of the arts building and wait. I lean against the wall adjacent to the ‘Creative Corner’—painfully lame—and twirl a flower between my forefinger and thumb. Just a few minutes earlier, I’d gently rescued a few of the better-looking white jasmines from the Martha Preston community garden.

I’ve never been one for any of Preston’s creative programs myself, but I know our school has a good department. Well-staffed and well-funded, especially since the Bates family donated more than enough for the new creative arts building. Maybe Hamilton can come out as gay and get us a new lacrosse field.

I know basically nothing about the photography club, except that Sugar is apparently a member. Personally, I never saw the draw. Anyone can point their phone at something and snap a picture. Who needs a club for that? Then again, I am here, putting my precious balls on the line, once again. That has to say some serious shit about artistic merit.

When they start spilling out of the room, I see the Adams twins first. Micha and Michaela notice me at the same time—perfectly in sync—and both start fumbling their folders.

“Uh, hey, Bass!” Michaela gives me a dreamy smile and her brother’s not much better.

“Michaela.” I smile back, deciding—fuck it—and extend a flower to each of them. “Micha.”

They look like they’re about to faint.

God, freshmen are so easy.

“Great. The fuck are you doing here?” Sugar’s standing behind them, eyeing me resentfully.

I level the same smile at her I’d given the twins. She doesn’t even twitch. “Wooing the shit out of you,” I answer, giving her the rest of the flowers.

She looks at them, and then at me, and then tosses them aside.

I press a hand to my chest. “Ouch.”

She’s already marching away. “Go away, Sebastian.”

I block the door. “I’m not done wooing you yet. There were going to be chocolates and candles and possibly even a shiny new knife to threaten my manhood with.”

She glares at me, that vein in her temple already starting to bulge. “What the hell, Wilcox? I thought we had a truce.”

“We do,” I say, frowning. “You said I should show you sometime. In the real world, giving someone flowers is widely regarded as a nice gesture. I didn’t do it to give you a hard time.”

She raises a hostile eyebrow. “And you didn’t bring me flowers to woo me, either.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine, you’re right. I wanted to ask a favor.”

“A favor?!” She gapes at me for a long moment before laughing harshly. “Oh, you’re really something else.”

“Not a favor,” I hastily backtrack. “More of like a… business transaction.”

She folds her arms, already looking sick of me. “A business transaction. Is this a sex thing?”

“Only if you want it to be.” At her total lack of amusement, I point to the photo hanging in the corner. “I want that picture of Abby.” I’d asked Mr. Lee, but he said it wasn’t up to him. Students owned their own photos. I rush to clarify, “Not for free. I’m happy to pay. What would it be, like a hundred? Two hundred?”

She just stares at me blankly.

“Three?”

Nothing.

“Four?”

Still, nada.

I sigh, pulling my wallet from my pocket and peeking inside the billfold. “Well, if it’s anything over six, I’ll need to come back.”