Wicked Lovely (Wicked Lovely 1)

She shoved her books into her locker, scraping her knuckles in the process. Keenan stayed beside her, an unwanted shadow she couldn’t shake.

They watched each other, and she wondered again if it would hurt to touch his metallic hair. The copper strands glistened under his glamour, compelling her attention despite her best efforts.

Rianne stopped and leaned hard against the row of closed lockers. The clang made people pause to stare.

“I heard he was edible, but”—Rianne put a hand on her chest as if she was having trouble breathing and looked at Keenan—slowly and appraisingly—“damn. Definite finesse.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Aislinn blushed. And I’m not going to, either. Whatever the weird compulsion to touch him was, she was stronger than any instinct. Just focus.

Leslie and Carla joined them as Rianne pushed off the wall of lockers. She stepped closer to Keenan and examined him as if he were a slab of meat on a plate. “Bet you could.”

Carla patted his arm. “She’s harmless.”

Aislinn grabbed her books for the afternoon classes. Her friends shouldn’t be talking to him; he shouldn’t be in her space. And he definitely shouldn’t radiate that inviting heat, making her think of lazy days, of closing her eyes, of relaxing…Control. Focus. She could do this. She had to.

She sorted her things, so what she’d need to take home was on top of the stack in the locker. When the day ended, she’d be ready to make a quick getaway.

With a forced smile, she shooed her friends away. “I’ll catch up. Save me a seat.”

“We’ll save two. You can’t let that”—Rianne waved her hand at Keenan—“morsel wander around unsupervised.”

“One seat, Ri, just one.”

None of them turned around. Rianne waved her hand over her shoulder, dismissively.

After a steadying breath, Aislinn turned to Keenan. “I’m sure you can figure out lunch without help. So, umm, go make friends or whatever.”

And she walked away.

He sped up to stay beside her as they entered the cafeteria. “May I join you?”

“No.”

He stepped in front of her. “Please?”

“No.” She dropped her bag into a chair next to Rianne’s things. Ignoring him—and the stares they were attracting—she opened her bag.

He hadn’t moved.

With a shaky gesture, she pointed. “The line’s over there.”

He looked at the throng slowly progressing to the vats of food. “Can I get you something?”

“A little space?”

A flare of anger flashed over his too-beautiful face, but he said nothing. He just walked away.

She wanted to believe she’d get rid of him by her refusal to be drawn in by his attention. I can hope. Because if not, she didn’t know what she would do. He was compelling, pulling her attention away from all that she knew as wise and good.

At the far side of the cafeteria, Rianne had left her spot in line and was talking to him. They both looked over at her: Rianne smiling conspiratorially, Keenan looking pleased.

Great. Aislinn unpacked part of her lunch, pulling out a yogurt and spoon. Stalker-faery has a new ally.

While she was alone, Aislinn made a quick phone call to request the cabbie she and Seth had met at the tat shop a few months ago. The cabbie had told them how to get dispatch to send him specifically and assured them that he’d be on time or get a friend to be there if they requested him. So far he’d been as good as his word.

She kept her voice as low as she could in hopes that Keenan’s guards wouldn’t hear.

One of them was already moving closer to her.