“Maybe there is no next move. Maybe he’ll let you live your life. Maybe he’ll respect his father’s wishes.”
I roll my eyes at her comment. If only it were that simple. “You didn’t see the look in his eyes. The malice and hatred. This isn’t over. If anything, this is part of the game.”
“How so?”
“He’s making me squirm. He’s basically an angry lion, playing with his food. He might not have killed me yet, but eventually, he’ll pounce.”
“That sounds oddly sexual. And he is smoking hot.” She smirks.
“What? Stop. How do you even know that?”
“How does anyone know anything in this modern age? I googled him, Payton. Duh.” Heather rolls her eyes as if I should’ve assumed she’d google him. “You really thought that wasn’t the first thing I did?”
“You never mentioned it.”
“Ronald just died. I thought it would be insensitive to mention his son is hot as fuck!”
“Shh. Can you be any louder?”
I look around the room, but it is still relatively empty, and no one appears to be paying attention to us anyway. I shake my head.
“Plus, he’s not that hot,” I say lamely.
I’m not fooling her. Not with how warm my cheeks feel. Like he’s grazed a red-hot poker against my skin, ready to brand.
“Yes, he is, and even your frigid ass knows it, honey.”
Her voice is way too loud this time, and the student sitting next to her giggles. Sam. I hate Sam right now.
“Can you shut up? Someone will hear you.”
Sam is actually playing on her cell. That’s why she is laughing, not because of me. No one is listening. No one cares.
“Oh, shut it. Look at this man,” she chides as she unlocks the home screen of her cell and starts to google Trent. When his picture is on the screen, she flashes it at me. She’s like a dog with a bone when she wants info, and she won’t give up asking until I give it to her.
“Fine.”
“Go on . . .”
I shrug. “He’s not bad on the eyes.”
“Getting warmer. Cut the shit. Just admit it.”
“Jeez.” I exhale. “Fine. I think he’s hot. Like smoking hot. Nuclear hot. The hottest man I have ever seen. Hot.” I let out an audible, dramatic-as-hell sigh.
She giggles. The smirk on her face is enough to make me place an ad in a newspaper: accepting applications for a new best friend.
“Yes, maybe he’s hot, but he’s also a total douche canoe,” I follow up.
“Douche canoe? Really?”
“Dick. He’s a huge dick.”
“I wonder if McHottie has a huge dick.” She completely ignores my distress. Typical Heather.
If I wasn’t embarrassed before, now I’m really cringing.
“Totally off-topic,” I mockingly scold. “How hot or big his dick is,” I whisper, “is not the point.”
“Then what is the point?” Her eyebrow raises, and again, I’m totally second-guessing this friendship. Too bad I love her ass and could never replace her.
“The point is, I’m afraid he’s coming for me.”
“With his big dick?”
“Yes.”
She bursts into laughter, and I realize what I’ve just said.
“What?” I backtrack, chanting, “No. No. No. No.”
“The lady doth protest too much.”
“Really? You cannot use Shakespeare when I’m talking about Trent Aldridge. The man is the devil incarnate. And I don’t want him like that.” I use my stern voice.
I don’t know whether he’s behind the break-in or the phone calls, but I suspect he is. I don’t trust that man. When I met him, he was way too smug and full of himself for my taste.
She takes a deep breath and straightens her back, then drops her voice. “Do you really think he’ll come after you . . . ?” Her voice trails off as if she finally realizes how scared I am.
I’m about to answer and finally tell her about all the strange stuff that’s happened to me when the door opens and our professor walks in. I turn my attention toward the front of the class.
“Ms. Hart,” she says, looking straight at me. The muscles in my neck tighten. She just said my name, and I have no idea why. “Can you stay after to speak with me?”
I nod.
“What’s that about?” Heather whispers.
So wrapped up in Trent-stress, I lift my shoulders before remembering I applied for a position in the department for next semester. After this year, I plan to continue my education and get my master’s. The program is super competitive, so working with the department will help my chances of getting accepted.
“Maybe it’s for the position.”
Her eyes light up, and she smiles broadly.
Both of us know this could be huge for me.
The class goes by, and for the first time in months, I’m not thinking of how Trent Aldridge will reap his revenge. Instead, I’m thinking about what I can do to get far away from my sister.
Erin has been so difficult.
That’s an understatement.
Between yelling, crying, and accusing me of sleeping with Ronnie for his money, it sucks being near her. Then there’s her new boyfriend.