Break Me (Brayshaw High 5)

I tense despite myself, but don’t look, and answer honestly. “I don’t care about them.”

“Good.” He cocks his head. “Neither do I. Now get in.”

“Are you always this bossy?”

“Yes.”

My leg bounces as I consider what he said before. “What do you mean I owe you, owe you what?”

“Two truths for every lie.”

“I’ll just lie again.”

“Nah.” He flicks my hair, his eyes snapping to mine. “You won’t.”

The sureness in his rich and gravelly tone has unease growing in the pit of my stomach.

“You don’t know me.”

“You sure?”

Am I?

Maybe he’s the person who’s been parking at the end of my street, watching me the last couple weeks. My brother did say they’re the only ones who sort of kind of knew where I ended up. I doubt he’d admit it if I asked, though.

I run my tongue along the backs of my teeth, a small frown pulling at my lips as I consider what to do, and in the end, I’m rolling my eyes, stepping around him and sliding inside the damn car.

And what do you know, Royce slips in beside me.

Neither he nor Mac talk much on the drive, so I sit as quietly as they do until I realize we’re pulling up at one of the two hotels in this town.

A heavy strain tugs at my muscles and I push my hands into the worn seats. “Yeah, no. I’m not about to go inside there with you two.”

They laugh but say nothing, both climbing out and meeting near the back of the car.

I start to sweat.

Are they planning my demise?

Confirming where to drop the body?

Taking it back to Brayshaw where no one would dare come looking for it?

Tension threatens to rise as I try to read their lips but fail. This could quickly turn into something really bad for me if I don’t stay calm, but then Mac passes off the keys to Royce as he steps up to another small car parked beside us, and with that one move, I’m able to settle myself.

He opens the driver’s door, so I decide it’s safe for me to climb out and eavesdrop.

“So you’ll go straight to the school, figure out what’s going on?” Royce asks him, glancing my way quickly when I close the door. “None of us will be back on campus until I’m home. My brothers are on a hump-cation until I get back.”

Mac chuckles. “As soon as I get home, I’m there. I’ll find out what has the school on edge, check in throughout the day.”

“Thanks, man, now go home to your girl, put her to bed.”

Mac grins. “She’ll just be waking up by the time I get there.”

“And she hasn’t been dicked down in a few days,” Royce jokes. “I believe in you.”

Mac laughs, his fist lifting to meet Royce’s. “Later, bro.” He tips his chin, glancing at me with a smirk and low salute. “Later, Bishop.”

I smash my lips together, offering a small wave, and then we watch him drive away.

As I look back, I find Royce’s attention on me, where it stays for several seconds.

Studying.

Measuring.

Curious?

He looks off, slipping right into the driver’s seat so I make my way into the passenger’s.

A few minutes up the road he pulls into a Cruiser’s station and unbuckles his seat belt, so I step out with him.

As we walk in, he follows behind, crowding my space the second I open the glass door to the cold drinks.

His pecs are pretty much equal with my shoulder blades, the buckle of his belt gently scraping at the high curve of my back as he presses me forward. He cages me there, shuffling closer until he’s so close, I have to bring my hand up to grip the cool plastic racks to keep me from falling against the shelving.

In contrast with the chilled air blowing against my front, his heated breath burns along the skin behind my ear, and I incline my chin just enough to meet his eyes.

“Are you trying to seduce me in the fridge of a mini-mart that smells like recycled mop water?”

“Come on now, little Bishop, you’re smarter than that.” He leans in, his smirk a mischievous one. “If I wanted to seduce you, you’d be in my hotel room already.”

Before I can blink, the chilled air wraps around my back, the heat of his body having disappeared, but you bet your ass he can hear my laughter wherever it is he ran off to.

I smile to myself.

Man, he’s seriously on that pro ho level.

It’s over the top and unnecessary, but it’s also a breath of fresh air, loosening it a bit.

With a shake of my head, I grab my drink, circling the back of the store in search of my go-to breakfast, and make my way toward the register.

As I round one corner, Royce does the other, both of us already biting into our item of choice—a chocolate-covered donut with sprinkles.