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

He huffs, like the thought of me expecting a grain of autonomy is downright absurd. I can’t even recall the last time I went into the dungeon he calls a bedroom. He frowns, studying me. “And why are you so sweaty?”

“I, uh.” Shit. Why? Because your best friend was about to ravage me on my bed, that’s why. Have you seen him shirtless? Logic prevails. “Because I was doing my PT.”

That seems to appease him. “Well, I thought you’d want to know that I talked to Mom and Dad about Reyn.”

“Oh,” I try to compose myself a little, furtively straightening my shirt. “About him sitting with us at school and stuff?”

“Yeah.” Without an invitation, he steps into the room, pushing past me. “I told them things have chilled out a little with everyone and you two were getting along—which they knew, since they invited him and his dad to the football party. I said neither of us wanted him to be excluded at school.”

“What did they say to that?” I ask, realizing that my bed is completely rumpled, from the foot up. My eyes bug out when they land on Reyn’s shirt, still discarded on the floor. Damn it.

“They agreed that any kind of social isolation was probably not in his best interest, but most of all, they’re just worried about what you think.”

I fight a snort. Now the

y’re worried about someone’s social isolation? Where was this concern when I had no friends and sat at home alone all the time? “Did you tell them that I’m okay with it?”

“I did, but you’ll need to tell them yourself.” His eyes sweep over my room and I shift to block the messed-up bed, foot covertly extended to kick the shirt beneath the dust ruffle. “Hey!”

“Huh?” Heat spreads up my neck. “What?”

He reaches down and grabs the shirt, holding it between two hands. “Is this my senior shirt?”

“Oh, uh, yes.” I nod. “Must have gotten mixed up in the wash.”

He scowls. “Damn it, V. You know I don’t like it when you steal my shirts.”

“I’m sorry, seriously. I didn’t realize I had it.”

He balls the shirt in his hand and continues with our prior conversation. “They think I’m just backing Reyn up because he’s my best friend. No one cares about what I think here.”

“Yeah, okay,” I agree, nodding. “I can do that. I’ll talk to them tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” he says. “I can tell he’s struggling a little. This has been a big change for him. Not just school but all the other stuff. Girls, the Devils, Fucking Jerry riding his ass all the time.”

For some reason I blurt out the one thing my mind held onto, “Girls?”

He gives me a conspiratorial look. “Yeah, not that he’s told me anything, but there’s a rumor going around that he hooked up with some chick in the library. Plus, he was looking pretty damn satisfied the morning after the bonfire.” He raises an eyebrow. “Did you see him with someone?”

“No.” I shake my head. “He, uh, walked me home and left. I’m sure Mom told you. It was a short walk.”

“Right.” He finally moves toward the door. “Well, talk to Mom and Dad tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure. Happy too.”

He pauses and rests a hand on the door jamb. “All this stuff with him has really sucked. I know if people just let him prove it, they’d see he’s not a bad guy. So thanks, I guess.” He knocks his knuckles into my shoulder. “For giving him another chance.”

I feel my face soften. “Yeah, of course.”

He knocks on the door jamb before pushing away. “Night, V.”

“Night, Em.”

When he’s left, I press my ear against the wood, not moving until I hear the soft click of his own door down the hall. I relock my door and pad to the bathroom, swinging the door open.

Reyn is standing at the counter, his back is to me. All I see are the muscles spread across his broad shoulders, that wide swath of dark scarring that always makes my own itch.

I say, “He found your shirt, but luckily, he decided it was his shirt, so we’re all good. I mean, you’re out a shirt, but…” I sigh, eyes dropping to my feet as I admit, “It’s hard deflecting him, especially when he’s trying to do all this nice stuff. I hate lying.”