The Last Piece of His Heart (Lost Boys 3)

“Wentz?”

“Here.”

I froze as the single syllable dropped into the air behind me, spoken in that deep, unpolished voice. Somehow, I’d missed him coming in. A shiver danced up my spine.

You are not this ridiculous.

And yet, I couldn’t keep myself from peering over my shoulder, like Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles stealing a peek at Jake Ryan. Ronan was slouched in the corner seat, last row. Arms crossed, eyes flat and guarded at all the attention; I wasn’t the only one who’d turned to stare.

Ronan’s gray gaze met mine. When I offered a small wave in greeting, he glanced away.

Okay. Good talk.

Baskin finished calling roll and Violet hurried into the room. I breathed a sigh of relief. She looked like herself, if a little tired.

“McNamara…” Baskin intoned.

“Sorry!” She caught sight of Ronan as she hung her bag on the back of her chair. “He’s real,” she whispered to me.

You can say that again.

“He’s also the guy Bibi hired to build my work shed,” I whispered back. “Which you would know if you had answered my texts this weekend.”

“Yeah, sorry. I was…really tired, recovering from the party. But for real? He’s working at your house?”

“Forget him,” I said, wishing it were that damn easy. “I was worried about you.”

“I’m fine, promise,” Violet said. She glanced at Baskin who was still at his desk organizing his notes and muttering to himself. “But the party got crazy. The new guy, Holden, caused a major scene. He smashed a bottle on the Blaylock dining table and then tap danced all over it.”

“I like him already.”

“Chance doesn’t feel the same.” Violet giggled. “And you’ll never believe it, but Miller played for the first time…to an entire houseful of people. He sang our song. ‘Yellow.’” Her deep blue eyes swam for a moment, and I knew instantly what she was recovering from. “According to Evelyn, it got even crazier after I left. A knife fight or something.”

“A knife fight?”

“Between Frankie, Holden, and your new handyman.”

It took everything I had not to steal another glance at Ronan. Even rows away, I swore I could feel him—his presence, solid and strong behind me.

A small voice wondered if he were hurt.

Oh stop. If anything, it’s Frankie you should be worried about.

“Sounds like I missed all the action.”

“You could say that. River asked me to Homecoming.”

I frowned at Violet’s unsure expression. “That’s good, isn’t it? Part of your grand plan?”

She smiled faintly. “Yes, exactly. My grand plan.”

Baskin took the podium at the front of the class. I faced forward, thinking about my own grand plan that had no one in it.

“Your first major assignment of the year is a paper on the Russian Revolution,” Baskin said. “I’ll leave the exact focus to you, but the paper must be ten pages, minimum. Typed, single-spaced.”

The class collectively groaned.

“A warning. This paper will account for fifty percent of your first semester grade.” He eyed us over his glasses. “So it had better be good.”