Chapter 7
SEVEN
No matter how much my life has changed since Winter break, my weekends are still dedicated entirely to my classwork.
There’s no denying that my never-ending obsession with being ahead is the sole reason I still have my scholarship, and I’ll be damned if I let all my hard work slip through my fingers now.
Avery usually splits her time between hanging out in our room, torturing herself at her dance practice, and hanging out with the guys.
At first, I was awkward about how obsessive I am with studying, but she shrugged it off as easily as every other little quirk of mine she’s uncovered, breezing past it all like a pro.
She gave me a sly smile, her eyes sparkling with evil intent in a way that had me wanting to join in. “I’m perfectly aware that you run on a limitless supply of coffee, intellectual endeavors, and the souls of your enemies, Lips. They’re some of my favorite things about you.”
It almost scares me how much I love this girl, so I do my best not to think about it or what life will look like when we’re not sharing a room anymore. I try not to think about anything that isn’t assigned by my classes.
Saturday morning, after our stand-off with Annabelle, I’m relieved when Avery decides to spend the day with Ash and Harley in Haven.
No one at Hannaford is willing to cross those two when it comes to Avery, and I can focus entirely on my assignments without worrying something will happen to her.
I lose myself in biology textbooks so completely that the day disappears in what feels like a split second, and before I know it, Avery is back with dozens and dozens of bags.
I have no idea where we’re going to store all of it.
Cackling at the looks I’m throwing her new horde, Avery hands me one of the bags with a smug look of her own. When I don’t immediately take it from her, she huffs at me.
“This isn’t charity, Lips. I was starting to get bored shopping but, finding something perfect for you is a challenge. I won’t hear a word about returning them.”
I take the bag and she smiles at me before turning back to her mountain without making a big deal out of it.
It takes me a minute to get over myself, but when I finally dig out the box and open it, I’m staring at the most gorgeous pair of boots I’ve ever seen.
They’re black leather, soft as a baby’s butt, with chains and studs.
The top of the boot even has a tiny sheath that I can keep my knife in. I’m speechless and amazed.
Avery laughs at me and brushes off my mumbled thanks. I refuse to look up how much they cost, and I tell her to stop spending money on me, which only makes her laugh harder.
We eat the sushi she brought home before I get back to my textbooks when she jumps into the shower to start her nighttime routine. She takes forever, but who am I to judge?
A knock at the door startles me out of my studying.
I sigh, frustrated at any distraction that isn’t Avery, and stomp over like a sullen brat.
It’s probably Ash, here to bitch me out, or one of the girls from down the hall here to plead their case to Avery over some social bullshit I’m oblivious to.
In any case, it’s the last thing I want to be dealing with right now.
Flinging open the door, I’m not at all prepared to find Blaise propped against the frame with a lazy smirk.
Out of his uniform and with the messy bed-hair that’s closer to his signature Vanth look, he’s practically a god, and with the hallway light glowing like a halo behind him, my breath catches in my chest like I’m dying.
He’s too fucking hot.
The moment I think it, I shut that shit down, because the last thing I want is to kick off another war, and if he starts calling me a stalker fan again, Avery will go for his throat.
If his sister and his best friend are beefing like that, Ash will lose his mind.
Coin-toss for where Harley will land, but either way, it’ll be a bloodbath, so I can’t fuck this up.
Arranging my face into something friendly and non-confrontational is already hard enough, but trying to smile with how hard my teeth are clenched, I probably just look psychotic. Not great, but better than looking like I’m dripping for him, I guess.
Still, I manage to sound nice enough even while cutting to the chase. “Avery is in the shower. You're welcome to hang out on the couch until she's finished.”
The smirk grows wider and way too cocky for my liking. “I'm here for you, Mounty.”
I let my eyes take him in, every detail from head to toe. He’s wearing a pair of dark gray, fitted jeans with a band tee. I know the band, Malice, but I’m surprised he does too. His smirk grows wider, but then I give him one back and say, “No, thanks.”
He’s so shocked at my dismissal that he barely manages to stop me from shutting the door in his face. “Mounty, for fuck’s sake. Hear me out. Please.”
Urgh.
It's the ‘please’ that gets me. I’m also curious to see if this is about Annabelle’s appearance here the night before. I let him push the door open again and give him an expectant look.
“Right.” Blaise stops and clears his throat.
I already know I’m going to hate whatever comes out of his mouth next.
It’s either going to be insulting or endearing, and I don’t want to deal with either of those things.
“I’ve made another deal with my dad. If I graduate senior year with a 3.
0 GPA or higher, he’s going to let me take a gap year without pitching a fit.
I want to fit in a world tour and a new album.
I also want to use that time to convince my parents that college isn’t for me. ”
I sigh and motion him into the room. Avery is still in the shower, and the coffee machine starts beeping to say the sweet, sweet nectar of the gods is ready to be consumed in bucket-like quantities to get me through an all-nighter.
I head toward the machine. “You didn’t need to come here; I already tutor you.
We can go through all of your syllabi and get a plan together on how we’re going to make it work. ”
I pour myself a cup and then, after hesitating for a second, I pour one for Blaise too.
I know exactly how he takes his coffee, but there’s no torture method on the planet that would get me to admit it, so I slide the sugar and creamer to him.
I can’t help that I’m observant and little details like that get filed away instinctively.
I also know how Harley and Ash take their coffee. I don’t know if that makes it better or worse, but it’s the truth, regardless.
“Lance is taking up too much of your time. Ash would back off and let you work with me in peace, but the little Mounty fuck wouldn’t.”
I cut him a look. Fuck knows why I’m defending Lance, probably the venom in Blaise’s voice as he spits out Mounty. I’m waiting for him to say something about the pickup at the docks and the dirty money I had with me.
He grimaces under my stare before speaking carefully, “I don’t want Lance to know how much trouble I have with my classes. He’s an arrogant asshole, and I’d rather not have to beat the shit out of him every time he runs his mouth. If Avery finds out, it’ll be the next Mounty hunt.”
Is Blaise fucking Morrison, lead singer and guitarist of Vanth Falling, rock god and literal idol of my heart, embarrassed? Fuck me, that’s worse than an insult or sweetness. I’m doomed to pander to his every fucking whim.
I scrub a hand over my face and try to look stern, to hide just how whipped I am for this guy who still thinks I’m trash.
Look, I’m not saying I’m going to fall at his feet. I have self-respect and I’m perfectly aware of just how much he loathes me.
But the fleeting pink tinge to his cheeks and the way he’s chewing on his lip are enough to make me jump through some academic hoops with him.
Sue me. Plus, he’s not dumb, not at all.
He’s actually really smart, but he doesn’t process information the same way as the other students do, so the teachers just assume he’s slacking off.
Now that I’ve figured him out, I’ve cut his study time in half, which is why he insists on it being me who helps him. Fuck.
I hold up three fingers and his eyes light up, goddammit. “Three rules.”
He nods.
“One: you’ll come to every study session on time and with the agreed upon work done before. If I’m going to put in the time and effort, you will too. I don’t care if it’s wrong and we have to redo it, you have to give everything a go.”
“Agreed. Next?”
“Rule two: you’ll show me respect while we study. We can do it here. Avery has ballet and dance most nights, so we can pick a few nights a week and we’ll be left to it, but I’m not having you get pissy and tearing into me for no reason. Save that for the dining hall or parties or some shit.”
He has the decency to look sheepish but not quite enough to apologize. “Yep. Next?”
“Rule three is simple: don’t tell Ash.”
This gets me a frown and a stern eye. “Why? He wouldn’t give a shit.”
I scoff at him and move to rinse out my now empty cup. “He lost his mind over you sleeping here after the party. He cornered me and told me to stay the fuck away from you and Harley. He’s practically pissed on your leg to assert his ownership of you.”
Blaise’s frown deepens and he chews on those damn lips of his again. “Alright. But I’ll speak to him and tell him to get over his shit with you.”
I’m shaking my head before he even finishes the sentence. “I don’t need your help. He’ll figure it out on his own.”
He doesn’t look convinced, and I sound way more confident than I am, but hey, I’m faking it until I make it.
Monday morning, after the weekend study binge of my dreams, Harley laughs at me when I hand him my completed half of our history assignment. I glare back at him, but it only makes him laugh harder.