Queen of Hawthorne Prep

“Yes.”

No.

I don’t know.

Why does he muddle everything inside my head? Decisions that should be easy now seem riddled with complication.

“Such a little liar,” he says, pulling away before flicking his finger against the tip of my nose. “I underestimated you once. It won’t be a mistake I make again.”

The heartless comment is like a bucket of freezing water dumped over my head. Any heat that had gathered between my legs vanishes. I stay rooted on my seat as he exits the Mustang. It’s the slamming of the car door that jolts me from my stupor. A shiver works its way through me as I grab the door handle for the second time and pull it open, rising unsteadily to my feet. Kingsley waits near the hood of the car. Even though I want to fly past him, I force my feet to shuffle in his direction. When I’m within striking distance, he throws a muscled arm around my shoulders and hauls me close.

Too close.

The woodsy scent of his aftershave assaults my senses, making me almost dizzy with it. All I want to do is inhale a big breath of him to savor. Confusion swirls through me. After everything that has happened since my father’s death, how can the attraction be so powerful?

Is it even possible to turn off this strange need that courses through me?

“Smile, baby girl,” he whispers in my ear, “everyone is watching.”

From beneath the thick fringe of my lashes, my gaze darts around the impeccably manicured front lawn. He’s right. Most of the students we walk past turn to gawk at us.

No, not us.

Me.

Their open perusal only heightens my growing discomfort. These people aren’t my friends. And neither is Kingsley. It would behoove me to remember that. We’re enemies forced to act out this tragic farce. Possibly for the rest of our lives.

“Here’s the thing,” he continues blandly, interrupting the frantic whirl of my thoughts as we walk toward the main entrance of the school, “every king needs a queen, but queens can be cast aside.” When his breath drifts over my cheek, I stumble. “Don’t ever forget that these are my loyal subjects and they’ll follow my lead.”

I swallow down my growing nausea.

Sadly, he’s not wrong.

Once inside the building, my pace quickens. I need to get away from him. As people congregate in the corridor, my gaze fastens on to my brother who lounges near my locker. Relief floods through me at the sight of him. The moment he spots us, he pushes away from the metal door and straightens to his full height. From the harsh expression that falls over Austin’s face, it’s easy to see that his fury from last night has yet to recede and he’s spoiling for a fight.

If he looks hard enough, Kingsley will give it to him. Only the dark-haired boy at my side won’t suffer the same consequences as my brother. That’s something I can’t allow to happen. No matter how tenuous the peace might be, I need to keep it.

Instead of walking by when we reach my locker, Kingsley stops about ten feet from my twin before jerking me into his arms. My breasts bump against the hard lines of his chest and I steel myself, afraid of how the moment will unfold. We both know this little show of dominance is all about taunting Austin and provoking a reaction from him.

I hope my brother realizes it and doesn’t take the bait.

One hand settles under my chin before tipping it upward. Barely am I able to draw in a full breath before his lips crash onto mine. When I gasp, his tongue slips inside my mouth to tangle with my own. For one fleeting moment, the world falls away and the past ceases to exist. It’s just the two of us. The only thing that matters is the here and now.

The stroke of his velvety softness against—

A squeak of surprise escapes from me when Kingsley is ripped away and I’m left standing alone in the middle of the crowded hall.

“Leave her the fuck alone, Rothchild!” Austin snarls, sounding like a rabid animal.

The last week has pushed him past the point of no return. The tiniest of infractions will send him careening over the edge.

A knowing grin slides across Kingsley’s handsome face as his voice turns threatening. “Or what? What will you do?”

When Austin takes a menacing step toward the other boy, I scramble between them. It takes all of my strength to shove my brother back a step and out of harm’s way.

“Please,” I plead, turning to him, “don’t.”

“Yeah, Hawthorne,” Kingsley interrupts, humor dancing in his voice, “listen to your sister.”

A deep growl of frustration rumbles up from Austin’s chest as he pushes me back a step before lunging at Kingsley, who laughs and saunters down the hall toward his locker.