Jaime
JAIME
Walking down the steps of Franklin West Hall, I cast a worried glance at Abi beside me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She sucks in a breath, tucking her dark blonde hair behind her ear and nods. “Yeah. It’s just a lot.”
I hum in agreement. After everything that happened with Sasha’s diary before winter break, she decided to step down as president. Usually, it would be down to me to take her place, but with the internship and everything that’s going on with my family, I couldn’t even begin to entertain the idea of taking something else on. Abi was the natural choice.
“The dean might be good looking as hell,” I say, looking out over the common. “But there’s something off about him. I don’t like it.”
Abi chokes on a laugh. “There’s nothing ‘off’ about him.”
I shoot her a look, but before I can argue, my phone chirps in my purse, and I pull it out.
MOUSE: Hey, Kitty Cat
My eyes roll and I fight the smile trying to curve my lips. I felt awful running out on him at the hotel, but I couldn’t stay and pretend. The night with him was hands down the best of my life and the rest of that day was a blur of blushes and heated skin with every aching muscle and memory of what he’d done to me.
Luckily, Louis was tied up in meetings with my dad and his father all day, so I didn’t have to face him. And no one’s pressed me about the prenup. I guess because it’s pretty much a given.
What happened with Zak is a very morally gray area and it makes me uneasy. Yes, Louis and I are engaged, but we haven’t even kissed properly yet. Is it still cheating when it’s little more than a business transaction?
Zak didn’t text me that day, leaving me to think I’d finally broken whatever it was between us by running out on him. It would have been for the best. But then, he messaged me on Christmas Day and again on New Years’. Nothing more than a friendly greeting, which I returned.
“Who’s got you smiling?” Abi asks.
I blink, shoving my phone back in my purse. “No-one.”
“It’s Zak, isn’t it?”
We reach the turn off for the path to the Greek houses and I turn to face her. “What makes you say that?”
Abi shrugs, linking her arm with mine and tugging me with her as she starts walking again, her big blue eyes sparkling. “You have a Zak Smile.”
“Fuck you.”
She laughs. “It’s been three and a half years of flirting. If you think you don’t have a Zak Face, you’re delusional.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Is it a Zak Face or a Zak Smile? Make up your damn mind.”
Abi laughs and my phone chirps again, but I ignore it.
“I’m kind of nervous,” she admits. “What if the party sucks? What if everyone thinks it’s because of me?”
I roll my eyes. “A Hive party never sucks.”
This weekend it’s the annual ‘welcome back’ party to kick off the new year. The responsibility alternates between the Wolves and the Bees, and it’s our turn this year. We’ve been planning for it since November, as the Wolves got the Thanksgiving party, so everything is more than ready.
“Just because you’re President doesn’t change anything. Sasha and I still have your back.” We reach the steps to the Hive, some of the Freshman Bees already setting up the fire pits ready for tomorrow night. “It’s going to be a great party.”
She takes a breath and nods, following me through the front door, but when I make to head upstairs, she stops me with a hand on my arm.
“If you ever want to talk about stuff,” she says. “I’m here. Okay?”
I frown. “I know. What’s wrong? Do you need to talk about something?”
She shakes her head. “No. I’m just saying.”
It doesn’t escape me that I’m keeping something from her after almost losing Sasha for doing the same thing to us. “Damnit.”
Abi looks at me questioningly and I nod my head toward the living room. No one’s in there and I take off my coat, settling down in one of the chairs by the fire. Abi does the same, taking the one opposite.
Glancing around to make sure no one is anywhere near, I lean forward. “I’m getting married.”
Abi’s mouth forms a perfect ‘o’, her blue eyes wide. It would be funny if my heart wasn’t jackhammering in my chest. “What the hell, ? Who to? Zak?”
The suggestion should make me laugh, but instead, it hurts. I shake my head. “No. Not to Zak.”
“So, what? You have a secret boyfriend? Is it someone from back home? Spill!”
Leaning back in the chair, I heave a sigh, trying to decide how much to tell her. “His name is Louis. He’s the son of one of my dad’s business partners.”
Abi continues to gawp at me. “Okay, number one, how long has this been going on? And number two, I need pictures. Stat.”
Rolling my eyes, I take my phone from my purse. I forgot I got a text and my heart stutters at the notification on my screen.
MOUSE: See you at the party tomorrow
There’s no way I can avoid him. I can’t not go to the party when it’s at my own damn house. Clicking out of the message, I bring up a browser and type in Louis’ name. Immediately, the screen fills with press shots and the Forbes magazine cover he apparently did last year.
I hand the phone to Abi. “We’ve known each other forever, but we only got reacquainted as adults recently.”
Abi stares between me and the phone, her mouth still open. “He’s gorgeous.”
I shrug.
“Holy shit,” she says, scrolling through the phone. “He’s number two on the world’s most eligible billionaires, Jay!”
Is he? I watch her scroll, grateful that she’s not pressing for more details, although I’m sure it’ll come.
“I have to admit, I’m surprised,” she says eventually, handing me back my phone.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I didn’t think you were the ‘get married young’ type.” She kicks off her ankle boots and tucks her feet underneath her. “And although he’s gorgeous, he’s not what I expected your type to be.”
This time I laugh. “Oh, really? And what’s my type.”
“Zak.”
I groan. “If Zak’s my type, I wouldn’t have been saying no to him for the past three years.”
“That’s just it,” Abi says, eyeing me carefully. “I never understood why you kept saying no. He’s hot, funny, sweet, and completely smitten with you. Is it because of this Louis guy? Have you been holding out for him?”
Let’s go with that. “Sort of, yeah.”
“I have questions, though.” She raises an eyebrow as she starts braiding her hair over her shoulder. “How did he propose and why aren’t you wearing a ring?”
My mouth opens to reply, that the ring is upstairs in my jewelry box, but she cuts me off.
“You are actually getting married to this guy, right?” she asks, narrowing her blue eyes. “This isn’t a fake fiancé type thing?”
“Why the hell would I need to invent a fake fiancé?”
Abi raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
“Screw you.” I roll my eyes. “I don’t need a fake fiancé. My ring is upstairs. It’s a vintage Cartier, and he gave it to me in the garden of my home in Florida. Okay?”
She watches me carefully, but I have no idea what she’s thinking. I’m not sure I want to know.
“Do you know what you’re wearing to the party tonight?” I ask.
My question does the trick, and the conversation moves to hosting the first party as the official new President of the Beta Epsilon Deltas.
I smile and nod, making all the right noises, but my brain is firmly lodged somewhere else. The same place it’s been since the Winter Mingle.
Christmas was strange. Louis and his family went back to Europe, maintaining the tradition of Christmas Eve in Winchester and Christmas on the French Riviera. It was hinted at very strongly that I’d be joining them next year before leaving for our honeymoon.
A shudder runs through me. Is this what it felt like for princesses back in the Middle Ages? Shipped off for alliances and then expected to produce an heir? At least I don’t have to worry about being beheaded if I don’t.
Louis has only tried to kiss me once since that first time in the gardens. When he left for Christmas, he leaned in as we said goodbye, but I turned my head, offering my cheek instead. I’m hoping it was subtle enough that he didn’t realize it was on purpose.
As much as I’d never admit it, kissing Louis would feel like cheating on Zak. Which is literally ridiculous. How can you cheat on a man you’re not dating with your fiancé?
Not only that, but if I actually try to form some sort of relationship with Louis, it would make things . . . official. I don’t want this to be real. If I can pretend for as long as possible that it’s not really happening, that’s good with me. The problem with pretending, however, is that you can only do it for so long before reality comes knocking.