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

“Because you’re the newspaper chick now. You’re part of the team!” She says the last part with an overly cheesy fist pump. “But seriously, you should. It’s kind of fun.”

I wrinkle my nose. “I’m not sure my mom will let me.”

“Just tell her that you’re looking for all the deep, behind-the-scenes action for the paper. The gritty details. Like those women reporters who go into the locker rooms.” She gives me a wink.

Honestly, it’s not a bad idea. Even Mom can’t resist the allure of getting a good scoop.

“I’ll see if I can pull it off.”

The bell tower chimes, so we head into the school, parting to our separate lockers. I pause when I open the door to mine. There’s no note inside, but there is a small box. Discreetly, I open it up and see a long leather cord inside. A key and a silver devil’s head are attached. Quickly, I loop it over my head and drop it under my shirt. I have no idea what it’s for, but I do know who it’s from.

And, as I close my locker door and start down the hall, I suspect I’m not the only one who got one.

When I asked Emory for a ride back to school for the game, I didn’t realize Reyn would be riding with us, too. He pauses when he sees me standing by the truck—for just a fraction of a second—so it must be news to him, also.

“Hey,” he mutters, walking over with his bag of football gear. He’s wearing a dark blue baseball cap, and he pulls it low enough as he approaches that it almost hides his tired eyes. His gaze doesn’t linger on me for more than a second, but he grabs the door handle before I can, jerking it open. “I’ll take the back,” he says, crawling through the gap between the front seat and the back. His shirt snags on the seatbelt as he wiggles his long body through the space, revealing a narrow swath of tanned skin and the top of his boxers.

His lower back is muscular, sloping down to his waist. There are two indentations just above his boxers. I guess he has four dimples—two on his face, two on his lower back. I’d seen Reyn shirtless a million times as a kid, but this isn’t that. This is a man’s body, strong and capable. As he situates himself, I try to shove aside the swooping sensation that knowledge gives me, but it’s difficult. I get the strongest vision of what it’d feel like to touch that skin, to have him hovering over me, moving.

I take a clumsy step back, willing my face to stop heating. Reyn McAllister has always made my body do things I couldn’t control. It’s unnerving to know that, despite everything, that hasn’t changed a bit.

Emory starts the truck and glares at me out the open door. “AIS, V.”

I blink and scramble into the cab, flipping the AC on blast the instant I slam the door.

“What the hell?” Emory readjusts the dial. “Don’t touch my settings.”

“It’s hot.” I fan my face, refusing to look at the back seat.

“What? Are you having some kind of teen-girl menopause?”

“Shut up,” I shove him with one hand and flip the AC up again with the other.

He turns it back down, batting my hands away as I bat his. “My car, my AC!”

I mock, “My car, my AC. You’re such a baby,” and turn it back up.

He thrusts a finger at me. “I will take you down, kid.”

“I’d like to see you try, kid!”

A snort bubbles up from behind us and we both look back. Reyn’s resting his head back against the seat, looking down his nose at us, and his mouth is curved into a crooked smile that’s big enough to reveal a single dimple. “Good to see you two are still status quo.”

I turn back around to hide my smile—and my reddening cheeks—because Reyn probably doesn’t realize just how un-status quo that little scene has been lately. Maybe Emory had taken our talk last night to heart.

Emory adjusts the AC to the middle position, which is slightly higher than he keeps it normally.

Wow, a compromise.

He backs out of the driveway and asks, “So Mom really gave you permission to ride on the bus?”

“Yeah,” I say, checking the camera in my lap and making sure I didn’t forget the list of game notes Coach Morris sent for the newspaper. “She wasn’t happy about it and kept aggressively ‘offering’ to drive me, but I think she’s just ecstatic that I’m involved in something at school.”

My brother glances at the rearview mirror and says to Reyn, “Until last night I thought Vandy was just a boring nerd hiding out in her bedroom all the time. Now I realize she was just getting high.”

I jab him with my elbow. “What happens in the dungeon stays in the dungeon,” I snap.

He holds up a hand defensively. “Last time, I promise!”