A Deal With the Devil (Boys of Preston Prep 2)

Devil or not, I will break this fucker’s fingers.

She darts her eyes toward Emory and me, shifting uncomfortably. “Uh, I don’t know. It depends on the day, I guess. Maybe fifty percent, on a good one?”

“How high can you get it?”

She draws out a long, “Um,” and braces her grip on Aubrey’s arm to lift her knee. “It’s not—I mean, I can’t—not without something to hold onto.”

Sebastian seems to consider this, and I feel Emory going still as stone beside me, as well. “How’s your balance on it? Can you lift the other one?”

Her face is turning red now. “Not great. Really, it’s just…weak.”

“But you do PT, right?”

“Yeah, once a week now.” She looks self-conscious and uncertain, ducking her head, but Sebastian takes it in stride.

“Then here’s what you do.” He takes her hand and puts it on his shoulder, tells her to use the attacker to brace herself before driving her knee into his groin. “You’ll be close enough, just try it out. Grab and spike it.”

She gives Aubrey a sidelong look but does as he says, grasping his shoulder and jerking the knee of her leg upward—

Slamming it right into his crotch.

Sebastian lets out a winded ‘oof’, doubling over.

Vandy stumbles back, hands clamped around her mouth. “Oh my god, I’m sorry!”

Sebastian flaps one hand while the other cradles his balls. “It’s fine, it’s cool.”

Emory and Carlton are howling with laughter.

“Damn dude, she just racked you!” Ben’s pointing as he laughs, doubled over almost as far as Sebastian.

“I’m so sorry!” Vandy puts a hand on his back, eyes wide and alarmed.

Sebastian finally straightens. “Well, I did tell you to try it.”

“This must be one of the good days,” she laments, pulling a face. “I never know what it’s going to—I’m sorry.”

“V,” he says, already looking completely recovered. “It’s cool, I’m good.”

Despite that, when he turns his back to her, facing the rest of us, his face crumples enough that I finally crack up, too.

That effectively marks the end of the fighting lesson, and the rest of them come to the little circle by the bonfire to grab beers and hit the joint. Vandy sulks over to us, telling Emory to, “Move over,” and plops down between us. She’s warm and solid at my side, her thigh pressed up against mine, and the urge to throw my arm around her shoulders is so strong that I have to lace my fingers tight around the neck of my bottle, hanging loose between my knees.

She’s wearing this tight, haunted expression, so I make sure to tell her, “Hey, we weren’t laughing at you,” just loud enough for the others to hear.

Ben’s head snaps up. “No, we were laughing at him! It’s a total bro rule.”

Emory nudges his shoulder into hers. “Yeah, if a guy gets hit in the nuts, you have to laugh. Because it’s…you know.”

“Hilarious,” I finish.

Ben says, “Exactly.”

She finally cracks a smile, some of the tension in her shoulders falling away. “I didn’t mean to.”

Afton takes a hit from the joint Caroline just waved off and asks, “Hey, Emory, are you going to go all psycho caveman if I offer this to your sister?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation. Vandy scowls at him but he doesn’t back down. “Absolutely fucking not.”