16. Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
Rylan
"I still don't understand why we have to back off," Hunter grumbles at me.
The cafeteria is extra busy today, with most students seemingly hiding inside from the rain. I don't blame them—it's torrential out there. But it makes it a little difficult to have a private conversation. Especially when eyes and ears are always on us here.
The three of us are sitting at our usual table, picking at the trays full of food. My eyes cross the room where Bexley is currently eating with her usual crowd surrounding her.
"I told you. Dad doesn't want to upset his political campaign," I murmur, unable to take my eyes off the purple-haired woman. She laughs at something someone has said, her hand covering her mouth to hide the fact that she's mid chew. She must have painted her nails again on the weekend—this week's color is a vibrant green, and I can't help but wonder if it's partly because of me.
After our chat on Friday night, I woke up yesterday to my socials blowing up with news about Lawless Dragons. Bexley and I were right—they are dropping a new album next month. When they posted the promo for it, I was instantly excited for the neon green and black steampunk vibes.
We spent all Sunday texting about it, sharing snippets of clips that we found online. And now her nails reflect the theme perfectly.
Like Friday, as soon as I met up with Tai and Hunter today, they bombarded me with more questions. When I told them Friday that we would be backing off from Bexley and the other Cedar Heights students, they asked me if I was serious. Well, I believe the words more accurately were, "Are you drunk?". But they settled for the bare minimum explanation when I held them off by saying I'd fill them in later.
And now unfortunately, later has come.
Tai fell on board pretty much straight away, indifferent to it all, even if he was skeptical as to the reasons. But Hunter is still in strong disagreement. Even worse, he's pissed at me for making a call without the input of the other two.
Our little wolf pack has been together for years, and as a courtesy, we agreed that we'd always make decisions as a team—or at least, best two out of three.
So, in Hunter's eyes, I essentially steamrolled them.
"We all know that the campaigns have no influence on votes," Hunter points out in annoyance. "He just doesn't want to piss off the Willowbrook alumni by being caught up in a scandal. This is all about saving face. But it does nothing to help our situation which should be the main focus."
"Look, I know," I sigh. "But our dads are upset. Even George got pulled into it."
Tai shoots me an apologetic look. "Sorry, Ry. On the plus side, he's still in Italy for another week. You can always come to mine if you need a break from Max. You know Mary adores you."
"Mary's the only good thing about your house," I joke. "Oh, and your sister."
"Leave my sister out of this," Tai warns, only half-jokingly. "Or I'll rip your balls off."
Hunter laughs, apparently delighted by the idea of my physical harm. After all, I'm the Brotherhood Betrayer right now. Shit—that would be an awesome name for a Lawless Dragons' song.
"Fuck their reputations," Hunter murmurs, getting us back on track. "Spencer needs to pay for what she did."
My brows pull together while I carefully navigate this. Neither of them knows I've been chatting to Bexley outside of school, or that we met last Thursday night. If they knew, I'd probably be chained to a tree and pelted with rotten fruit or silicone dildos.
"We deserved it," I say without thinking. I didn't mean to say it out loud… Obviously that was the wrong thing to say.
Hunter slams down his hand on the table, startling the people around us. "Fuck that," he growls quietly. "Cedar's little princess needs to stay in her lane. I found a picture of a chair inside my locker this morning with a note asking if the desk was lonely."
Tai snorts, quickly turning it into a cough. "Sorry, man. That sucks."
"Oh, save me the pity, T," Hunter groans. "At least you managed to block those numbers and find the source of your pain."
Grindr.
Yep—Bexley had plastered Tai's burner number onto a fake Grindr profile with the words, ' About to have a hard week. Make it better by sending hard, dripping cock pics. Desperate and needy little slut. ' Once we were able to get the profile taken down, the messages stopped. Though, Tai has made it his personal mission to stalk the Cedar Heights' Facebook group for info and dirty secrets. I'm surprised he hasn't leaked her number in an act of revenge.
But true to her word, no one from Cedar has said anything. The videos they shared inside the group were taken down and Bexley made an announcement post about trying for an amicable environment—though I couldn't help but notice she hasn't disclosed our secret little chats either.
I never thought I'd see the day where I actually enjoyed talking to her, but for some reason, we just click. Hell, in another life, we could probably be friends.
Yes… friends.
Except friends don't get hard thinking about their friends. Let alone their enemies.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Friday night I got carried away. The more playful our banter got, the more my dick started twitching and taking over my rationality. Every time she shot back some witty reply, challenging me, I found myself wondering if that carries over into the bedroom.
Then we got to the part about our attire. When I asked her if she was thinking about me naked, I quickly realized I was in the danger zone— because I was suddenly thinking about her naked .
Her soft, pink lips have been my focus all lunch break and I find myself itching to text her; to talk about music or how stupid the pop quiz was this morning.
But Hunter would kill me.
I would probably kill me too. That was essentially social suicide.
We agreed to be amicable at school, but apparently, that means silence .
She doesn't look at me. She doesn't speak to me. And she sure as hell isn't picturing me naked.
Yet, as I watch her converse at the cafeteria table, a hand from her boy-toy on her leg, I want nothing more than to go over there and rip it off her. Actually, that's a lie—I want to rip his hand off his body so he never touches her again.
"Earth to Rylan." Hunter snaps his fingers in my face, bringing me back to reality. "Why are you staring at their table?"
"Just reminding myself why we have to pretend to like them," I answer monotonously. "Besides, it's just until they leave. We'll still beat their asses on Friday night."
I have no doubt that the warehouse is going to be lit at the end of the week. The rain is making us all a little crazy, and I'm actually considering throwing myself into the ring to blow off some pent up steam.
Tai leans forward, lowering his voice. "We could still mess with her. If we land her back in detention, I could disable the cameras this time."
"No," I quickly reply. Clearing my throat, I elaborate when they both give me puzzled looks. "Okay, look…"
They wait as I take a deep breath and search for my balls.
"I spoke to her Thursday night," I admit, watching as Hunter's mouth falls open in angry disbelief. "People were getting restless, making accusations about us. I was pressured to smooth things over by Dad, but the only way that would work is if Cedar got off our backs too."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Hunter gapes, clearly outraged and offended by this update. "You struck a deal with Spencer? That's why we have to back off?"
I resist the urge to scowl at his accusation—insinuating weakness. "I didn't tell you because I knew we'd end up in an argument. And it was better doing it one on one, instead of all three of us ambushing her."
Tai frowns, looking between us. "I don't know, Ry. I have to admit, I don't like this. I thought it was just because of your dad."
"Neither do I," Hunter agrees angrily. "We were doing damage control. Now people are going to think we're weak for making peace with her."
"That's exactly our problem," I say frustrated. "We need to stop showing that we care. When everyone saw us infuriated by the videos, they doubled down. This is our shot at control again—we show a united front, rising above. The others will fall into line and understand it was a leadership decision. If we show we're the bigger threat by remaining unfazed, things will go smoothly and give us time to regroup."
"That decision should have come from all of us," Hunter rebuts. "I'm not playing house with Spencer. This is still our territory."
I nod, understanding. "She knows that, Hunter. But things will go a lot more smoothly for us if we play nice. Then, when it's all over and they are out of here, we can attack."
That seems to satisfy him—for now, at least. Though it does nothing to curb the sickening feeling in my throat.
He leans back in his seat, glancing over at Tai. "Any more information on those contacts of hers?"
Tai shakes his head. "I still can't find anything out about Lark Kory. It would be easier to jailbreak into her cell."
"We don't need the info," I exclaim. "Not at the moment, anyway. But I'll work on finding out information."
Hunter narrows his eyes suspiciously at me. "Just how friendly are you with Spencer at the moment?"
Too much, Hunter.
Way too fucking much.
This is a mistake.
Anyone could see and then I'll never hear the end of it.
Bexley Spencer has turned me into a damn stalker now.
Instead of going home during last period since I didn't have class, I decided to stake out the grounds, waiting to catch her. I knew from her arrival this morning that she had come alone in her truck, so I stood by the dinged-up, battered old blue thing, hiding out of sight of the main entrance as students flooded out.
My heart jerks when I spot her purple hair emerge, laughing freely with the chief fireman's son, before she waves goodbye and crosses the parking lot.
She gets closer, and just as she pushes her key into the lock barrel, I jump up from the other side.
"Jesus, Rylan!" she squeaks, stumbling back. "What the hell?"
"Sorry," I say sheepishly, offering a small smile. Her bright green eyes glare at me from across the hood, but slowly, they soften.
"I'm in desperate need of caffeine. You can't just scare me like that," she muses.
I raise an eyebrow, lips fighting back a smirk. "I scare you?"
"Very funny," she snaps playfully. "You know I'm not afraid of you."
Leaning against the hood, I strum my fingers along the paint. "I figured you might like your gym shorts back before class tomorrow."
That's a pathetic lie. But it's the best excuse I can come up with on the spot.
Bexley snorts in amusement. "You can keep them," she laughs. "Yours are way more comfortable."
"You like wearing my shorts?" I tease.
She stills before folding her arms. "Are you trying to start shit again?"
"Maybe."
Shaking her head, she unlocks the truck, slipping inside. I watch through the window, happily surprised when she leans over and unlocks the passenger door for me.
I quickly slink inside, leaning back against the old, torn seat. "How about you take these instead?" I say, hating how loud my voice sounds inside the cab now. But if I don't do it now, I'll probably chicken out. Reaching into my bag, I pull out a pair of brand-new Willowbrook gym shorts.
Bexley frowns, flipping over the clear plastic package that's still in my hands. "How did you guess my size?" she asks suspiciously, checking the tag.
"I just went up two sizes from the current shorts," I admit. "I figured you'd want a little room to move around."
"I—," she pauses, brows tugging together. "I'll pay you back."
There's an uncomfortable edge to her voice, one that makes me feel odd. But I swallow it, ignoring the strange feelings. "No need. I didn't pay for them," I lie.
Her eyes switch with uncertainty between the shorts and my face. "Why?"
It's easy to tell that she's not asking about my payment of them, rather, the gesture. Shrugging, I force a look of indifference over my face. "Even though we agreed to a truce, I can't have you wearing my shorts in gym tomorrow. What kind of message would that send?"
I wait for some snarky or witty response, but she just relaxes in her seat, laying the shorts in her lap. "Thank you, Rylan," she says sincerely. "That was really nice of you."
My hand rubs the back of my neck nervously. "It's fine. Just gotta save face."
Bexley starts up the truck, the whole damn thing shaking. I go to exit, taking it as a sign of her dismissal, but she laughs softly, the sound giving me goosebumps.
"Buckle up, Astor."