Touched By The Devil (Boys of Preston Prep 3)

Vandy cuts in with a sharp, “No.”

Emory explains, “Reyn’s taking a break from stealing for a while, so we need someone else.”

“For a while?” Afton asks.

“My probation ends in three months, okay?” Reynolds, who has a pathological compulsion for stealing things that just might rival my own for fighting, has his arms crossed, knee jerking up and down. He looks exactly like a junkie wishing for a fix. “I made an… agreement.” He says this much like someone might admit to having genital herpes.

“If he goes three months without stealing,” Vandy clarifies, “his dad’s going to buy him a car.” But from the way she looks at her boyfriend—and the way his knee stills—I’m betting she’s sweetened the pot. Probably with sex. Probably with some freaky sex. Lucky bastard.

Fuck, I wish I were getting laid.

I played it so fucking cool last night with Sugar, telling her that I was fine with taking it slow, and I am. I totally am. Might be better if it seemed like I was making a little more headway than a brief bout of handholding, though. Secretly, I’d been dead serious about that handy.

I look down at my knuckles, picking at a nasty scab—a result from last night’s fight. With my goddamn car. Jesus. “I’ll steal it.”

Reyn looks at me and snorts. “No way.”

I flip him off. “I can steal.”

“Beg and borrow, sure,” Reyn says, “But steal? You’re too flashy, Wilcox. Stealing requires subtlety and patience. You’re not the guy who steals. You’re the guy who causes a huge distraction so that someone else can steal.”

Emory nods. “Yeah, you’re good at being a distraction.”

“Excuse the fuck out of you.” I point to my own face. “I’m a sweet-talker. People like me.”

Tyson laughs. “Your own girlfriend doesn’t even like you.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Since when do I have a girlfriend?”

“Since you keep chasing that Sugar chick around like she’s got you by the balls.”

Before I can wholeheartedly debate this, Georgia pipes in, “Or since the other night when she snuck out of the room to meet you? Because I woke up and she was gone, and when I tracked her on my phone, there she was. Smack dab in Cresswell.”

Everyone lets out a slow, unnecessarily dramatic ‘ooooo’.

“Seriously?” I give them each an unimpressed look. “What is this, middle school?”

Elana twirls a lock of hair around her finger. “Now that you mention it, she hasn’t been quite as scary lately. I haven’t even seen her threaten you all week. Must be love.”

I flip her off, too.

Ben laughs. “Better lock that shit down, Bass. Have you taken her to the tower yet? Put your mark on her?”

“Fuck no,” I scoff. “Sugar’s not that kind of girl.” I immediately regret my choice of emphasis as I watch every girl’s eyebrows climb their foreheads.

“Oh, and just what kind of girl gets taken to the tower?” Vandy bites out, pointing to the other girls. “Because all of us have been in there, after all.”

I make a time-out signal with my hands. “Come on, you all know I’m like the most sex-positive motherfucker on the planet. I just meant that she’s not the kind of girl I can afford to rush shit with.”

Aubrey takes a break from staring at her phone to look me in the eye. “I like her for you. She won’t take your shit.”

Afton adds, “And if she did, she’d probably take it at knife point.” She doesn’t know just how true that is.

“Thank you for your completely unsolicited approval. If we could get back to the topic at hand? I know how to sweet-talk.”

Carlton looks at me thoughtfully. “Yeah, I bet Bass could swindle.”

I hold up a hand. “Sweet-talk.”