Chapter Four
LUKE
Icould feel Mila watching me before I even turned around. It wasn’t the usual kind of glance—the quick ones you clock in the corner of your eye and dismiss. This one cut through hallway noise, branding the back of my neck with heat and suspicion.
I didn’t move. Just leaned casually against the locker bank outside Econ, as if I wasn’t breaking the fragile trust between us. From her angle, I was.
Elise stood two feet in front of me, flipping her dark, glossy hair as though she still ruled this place. Her voice was lower than normal. Less shrill, more deliberate. Calculated.
And Mila saw all of it, even the brush of Elise’s hand on my forearm. I didn’t need to see Mila’s face to know the gears were already grinding. If I’d watched that scene from thirty feet, I would’ve walked over swinging too.
The guys and I iced Elise out after she had Logan lay hands on Mila.
That was the line, and it was non-negotiable.
She’d already been setting people up, trashing reputations.
Rachel—a girl in our grade last year who’d since transferred out—almost hadn’t survived Elise’s bullying.
But this was different. Exile stood. If keeping her within arm’s length got us information, I’d stomach it.
The mandate didn’t change. The method did.
Not that Mila would see it that way.
The conversation hadn’t even been planned. I’d gotten two sentences out with Tori before she froze, as if I’d asked for nuclear codes. Then Elise slid in, moving as though the hallway belonged to her, smile polished and lethal as glass.
“Looks like your friends are warming back up.” Elise’s nails skimmed the strap of her bag, casual but deliberate. “Funny how fast things shift when the right people remind them who’s in control.”
I didn’t answer Elise. Just tilted my head as though I gave a damn.
But to someone across the hall who couldn’t hear the words or read the tension, it probably looked as though we were catching up. Maybe even friendly.
Shit.
By lunch, the storm had arrived.
I spotted Mila before she saw me—charging across the quad, long brown hair wild from the wind, gray-green eyes locked on me. A dark storm cloud in denim. No tray. No food. Just fury.
“King,” she snapped the second she reached our table. Chase and Jax cut off mid-sentence. Theo raised an eyebrow.
I pushed to my feet. “Mila.”
“Walk. Now.”
The guys didn’t move. They blinked as though they were watching a soap opera play out in real time.
I leaned down, close enough that only she could hear me. “You dragging me off to yell, or is this foreplay?”
“Keep talking and I’ll drag you off to bury you,” she growled.
God, she was pissed. And fuck me if it didn’t do something to me.
We ended up near the back of the courtyard, under an old tree that didn’t do much against the sun. A couple underclassmen sat on the lawn nearby, so we kept moving—until we hit the chain-link fencing behind the gym.
“Want to tell me what the hell that was?” she demanded, arms crossed tight.
The vintage olive-green shirt she wore stretched across her breasts, the deep V-neck dipping just enough to drag my eyes where they shouldn’t be. Distracting as hell. I forced my gaze back up. “Elise?” I played dumb. Badly.
“You think I didn’t see it? You didn’t exactly look like a hostage.” Her mouth twisted. “Pretty rich, considering you kissed me as if I was the only thing that mattered last night.”
Her words punched into me. Because the taste of her—salt, heat, defiance—was still on my tongue every damn time I let myself think about last night. I sighed. “Mila—”
“She’s dangerous, Luke. You said it yourself. So what? That doesn’t count if she shows up in lip gloss and batting lashes? You think I forgot what I overheard? Her talking about drugging you if she had to?” Her eyes flared. “We’re supposed to be a team. Not letting her crawl back into it.”
I stepped forward. She didn’t move. “If you’re going to accuse me, at least make it interesting.”
“I’m asking,” she shot back. “Are you double-crossing me?”
That landed harder than I wanted. Still, I let her come at me, because every jab, every accusation, meant she cared enough to fight. And I would take her fire over her silence any day. “No,” I said, voice low. “But you’re assuming a lot for someone who said this isn’t about us.”
Her index finger tapped against her arm. “It’s not.”
“You sure?” I leaned in. “Because you’re acting jealous.”
She let out a sharp laugh. “You wish.”
“I don’t need to wish.” I held her stare. “You wouldn’t have stormed over here if you didn’t care.”
Her head tilted. “I care about not being played. There’s a difference.”
“And I care about not having a move I make questioned as if I’m some pawn in your trust issues.”
Her mouth opened. Closed. Then opened again. “Maybe if you shared the plan, I wouldn’t have to guess.”
That shut me up for half a second. Because she wasn’t wrong.
She folded her arms tighter. “So explain. Why were you talking to them?”
I dragged a hand through my hair. “Tori is an intern at Dunn. And interns overhear things—shifts in staff, whispers about projects. I wanted to ask if she liked it—see if she noticed anything off. But she shut down. Especially when Elise showed. She’s Elise’s friend,” I admitted.
“Doesn’t mean she’s loyal. She’s scared. And she’s not going to talk to me.”
Mila studied me. “So? What’s the plan then?”
“I saw an opening, tried to push, but she shut down. So I handed it off to Theo. He can get her to talk.”
Her brows rose. “Theo?”
“He’s already close with her. And she lets him in.”
Mila’s hesitation was obvious, her eyes narrowing. She knew exactly what “close” meant. Still, she weighed it, then gave a curt nod. “Fine. But Tori’s not the only thing going on. Elise?”
I smirked. “Still an outcast. Trust me. No one’s inviting her to hang out.”
Mila didn’t look convinced. “Yet she’s still walking around as though she’s untouchable.”
“People like Elise survive by twisting situations until they work in her favor. She calls it a favor while she steals your chair.”
“And you’re what—letting her get close to feed the illusion?”
I grinned. “Would that make you mad?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”
She huffed, turning away—but not quick enough to hide the flush climbing her cheeks. When she looked back, her eyes cut to mine, cool and defiant. “Don’t flatter yourself, King. You’re not worth the heartburn.”
A grin stretched my mouth wide. Funny, because I could still taste her on my tongue, that wildfire heat she swore didn’t matter. If she really didn’t care, she wouldn’t be chasing me into the courtyard to reprimand me.
Silence stretched for a beat before she spoke again, softer this time. “So what’s the plan now? Besides siccing Theo on Tori and letting Elise hang all over you.”
I exhaled. “We meet again after Friday’s game. You talk to your mom. See if she’ll slip anything. Doesn’t have to be about Dunn directly—just watch for names, patterns, new staff.”
“And you?”
“I’ll keep my eyes on Elise. Her dad’s still pulling strings. He wants something, based on what you overheard the other night. We just don’t know what yet.”
Her lips pressed tight. “You sure you’re not being played?”
“Only one person I’m worried about playing me right now,” I said. “And you’re standing two feet away.”
She shook her head, a half-laugh escaping. “If I was playing you, you would already know.”
I leaned in, close enough my breath skimmed her ear. “Yeah? I’m not so sure.”
She walked off before I could push it further, star charm catching sunlight—a dare I hadn’t earned the right to take. But I would. Eventually.