Keeper of Hearts

Chapter One

Gage

"OMG. You should see my dress for the dance!"

Fucking kill me now.

I take a massive bite of my sandwich, stifling an aggravated groan as the throng of girls at my table turns to Victoria Starling, their pain-in-my-ass Queen Bee, ready to hear every detail about this damn dress.

Frankly, I'd rather walk through fire naked than hear about it.

Prom was explicitly created to torment teenage boys. I know this for a fact because I am a teenage boy. And I'm definitely being tormented by the existence of this goddamn dance.

It's all I've heard about for the last two months straight. With the exception of my best friend, Troian Alessi, every woman in my general vicinity has lost her mind over it.

Troian hasn't mentioned it at all.

Ordinarily, this wouldn't be a problem. We rarely spend time talking about bullshit like dances when we're together. But I've been waiting since we started our senior year for her to bring it up so I can ask her to go with me.

We're days away, and she still hasn't uttered a single peep.

Not even after I was nominated for Prom King last week.

It's driving me crazy—both the fact that I was nominated and that Troian refuses to talk about the dance at all.

I know no one else has asked her to go yet.

There's an unspoken rule around here that Troian is off limits to anyone who isn't me. They don't get to hug her or smile at her or take her any-goddamn-where. It's been that way since the day she transferred here at the beginning of our freshman year.

I'm pretty sure I fell in love with her as soon as she stumbled into my path on her first day here. But I was young and dumb and didn't realize that's what was happening.

By the time I figured it out, I was deep in the friend zone.

Have you ever tried to get out of the friend zone once you've gotten yourself stuck in it?

It's a bitch.

And I'm growing a little more desperate every day.

Troian is scary smart…to the point she could have graduated last year, even though she only just turned eighteen last month.

Which means sooner or later, she's going to realize that she's a goddess.

Sooner or later, she'll realize that she's better than this place and everyone in it.

Soon—too fucking soon—she's going to move on to bigger and better things, and I'll be out of chances to make her mine.

I've thought a thousand times about picking her curvy ass up, putting her in my lap, and kissing the shit out of her to make my feelings clear.

I'm desperate to know exactly what her lips taste like and what she feels like in my arms. I may actually snap soon if I don't know if she's as sweet coming apart for me in reality as she is in my dream.

I've fantasized a thousand times about fucking her. It's all I think about sometimes. In my mind, I've made her come apart for me all over this school—the cafeteria table, our shared desk in Physics…the little hidden alcove between the lockers and the bathroom. Everywhere.

I'm almost nineteen, and horny all the damn time.

But then I worry that she doesn't feel the same way, and I'll destroy our friendship if I make a move. Or, worse, that being with me will paint a bigger target on her back.

No one else knows, but Troian had a heart transplant when she was a kid. I don't think she even would have told me about it, but three years ago, my little brother had to have open-heart surgery. She shared her secret with me when I was worried my brother was going to die.

Our classmates are assholes. When she first moved here, a lot of them frequently made fun of her weight.

I put a stop to that shit in a hurry, but some of them—like Victoria—still treat her like shit because, again, they're assholes who can't think for themselves.

As if it's her fault that the medication she takes for her heart makes her retain weight.

Even if the medication wasn't at fault, her weight doesn't define her value.

And, truthfully, they'd probably give her a hard time even if they knew about the transplant.

She intimidates them because she's so fucking smart.

Intelligence is sexy, but most of these idiots view it as a threat.

Probably because they don't have two brain cells to rub together.

They're too busy worrying about the next party or who is fucking who to think about anything important.

But the last thing I want to do is make her last two months of high school more difficult when she's already been through so much. She doesn't need anyone else bullying her, and my life is…honestly, it's currently a nightmare.

My mom is a single mom, trying to raise two boys on her own. Even with insurance, covering the cost of my brother's care is impossible some days.

So, last year, when a production company announced they were filming a movie in town and were looking for local actors, I auditioned. I thought I'd be cast as an extra if anything. Fifty bucks to stand around in the background of some movie seemed like easy cash to me.

Ha. Wrong.

Two weeks after my audition, the casting director offered me the leading role.

I didn't think the movie would blow up the way it did.

But it's been a little over a year, and the furor over the movie refuses to die down, especially with the sequel filming soon.

Acting isn't a career I plan to pursue once this series wraps.

But it's paying the bills and helping me build a little nest egg for now.

Unfortunately, all the attention makes Troian nervous.

She's an adorable little bookworm who is far more comfortable hiding in a crowd than standing at the front of it, which makes no sense to me because she's the prettiest little butterfly I've ever seen.

I don't give a fuck what anyone else says, I'd kill to have her on my arm at the premier.

She's gorgeous. She's petite and curvy, with bright green eyes and long red hair that's always so damn soft when I touch it.

The freckles scattered across her nose fascinate me.

I want to lick every damn one. Don't even get me started on her dimples when she smiles. Men have killed for less.

She's not smiling as she scurries across the cafeteria toward our table, juggling her books.

I would carry them for her, but it only pisses her off when I try.

She growls that she isn't helpless and doesn't want to be treated like she is.

As sexy as she is when she's growling at me, I know better than to make her feel helpless, so I reluctantly let her carry her books every day while I handle getting her food.

If it were up to her, she'd nibble on a pack of crackers and claim that's all she wanted. It isn't. But she hates eating in front of anyone because, again, people are assholes.

Her shoulders are hunched, and her head is down as she approaches the table, her face hidden behind her red curls.

My hackles rise at the sight.

If someone was mean to her again, there will be hell to pay.

Most people leave her alone now, but some of the other girls continue to tease her whenever my back is turned.

Victoria Starling is the main instigator.

Frankly, she's turned into a vicious bitch since the first movie came out.

I didn't like her before the movie; I certainly don't like her any better now, especially since she treats my girl like shit.

But she's harboring some serious delusions that I'm her ticket out of here.

Like I've told her, though: Hell will literally freeze over first. I know exactly what kind of person she is. She has to cheat, lie, and scheme to get ahead. I've seen it with my own eyes. She'll never compare to Troian.

"Hey," Troian mumbles, dropping into the chair beside me.

"What's wrong?"

"Hello to you, too," she says, blinking wide eyes at me.

"You're upset." I take her books and stack them with mine before sliding her tray over to her. She likes the pizza here, so I got her two slices and a piece of chocolate cake. She can't resist chocolate cake.

"Am not."

"Yeah, you are. You look sad."

"Maybe I'm just tired."

"Maybe you're full of shit," I say, holding a bottle of water out toward her. "Did you not do well on your presentation?"

She had to give a speech on Agamemnon in her literature class last period.

She's been stressing out about it for the last two weeks, both because she hates the play and because she hates public speaking.

She gets flustered and stumbles all over her words.

It's cute as hell. Honestly, though, she could fail the presentation and still be valedictorian. My girl is smart as fuck.

"I think I did okay. I only messed up once."

"Then why are you upset?"

"I'm not upset," she says, rolling her eyes at me. "I'm just tired of hearing about Prom. It's all anyone ever talks about."

"What's wrong with Prom?" I ask.

"Nothing," Victoria sniffs from further down the table. Of course she's eavesdropping again. I swear to Christ, no one annoys me more than this chick. "She's just bitter because no one asked her to go."

Troian flinches.

I swear, Victoria is the biggest bitch I've ever met. If someone is being bullied, you can all but guarantee she's the ringleader. She's never liked my girl and makes no secret of it.

I can't stand her. Yet she plops her ass down at our table every day, bringing her obnoxious friends with her.

They gossip and flirt and otherwise spend the entire lunch hour pissing me off.

She usually keeps her mouth shut about Troian around me, though.

She doesn't like being publicly put in her place, and I have no qualms about doing that shit.

One day, she's going to push me too far, and I'm going to tell everyone the truth about who she really is and how far she's willing to go to get ahead. When I do, it'll ruin the perfect little future she has envisioned.

The only reason I haven't done it yet is Troian. I know she won't approve, and I don't want to upset her. She doesn't have a vindictive bone in her body. That's what she has me for.

"At least she's not a soul-sucking bitch," I mutter, earning a hard kick from Troian. I scowl at her in response, but she ignores me, focusing on Victoria.

"You don't have a date either," Troian reminds her.

"Six different guys asked me," Victoria snaps, sneering at her. "I'm just waiting for the right invitation."

I don't miss her pointed look in my direction, but if she's waiting for me to ask her, she'll be waiting until hell freezes over.

Even if I weren't in love with Troian, I wouldn't go with her.

I'd rather pluck my fingernails out with pliers than go anywhere with her.

Actually, I'd rather do that than sit at this table with her. Why is she always here?

"The queen can't just go with anyone," she continues, as if it's a foregone conclusion that she'll win. Unfortunately, it probably is. Girls like her—bottle blonde cheerleaders who no one really likes—always win, even though they deserve it least.

"Of course. How gross would it look for the queen to show up with a poor commoner?" Troian rolls her eyes.

I bite my lip to hide a smile.

My girl doesn't like to use her claws, but they're razor sharp.

"Exactly," Victoria says, completely missing the insult. "Royalty should attend with royalty."

Several of her friends nod their agreement.

"Right," Troian says, her tone making it clear she thinks they're all delusional.

"It's customary for the queen and king to attend together," Victoria says, batting her lashes at me. "Someone is just trying to draw it out for as long as possible."

"Uh, hell no. I'm not fucking asking you to Prom, Victoria. I already have a date," I blurt, trying to head that bullshit off at the pass. I don't care if I am crowned the king; there is no way in hell I'm going with her. Not. Fucking. Happening.

Her face blanches. Everyone at the table goes completely silent. For a minute, I think Victoria's head might actually explode. Her face certainly turns red enough to indicate an imminent eruption. But before she has the chance to say anything, Troian shoves her chair back from the table.

It screeches across the floor, far too loud in the abrupt silence.

"Excuse me," she mutters.

"Tro—"

She doesn't give me a chance to ask what's wrong. She lunges for her books, grabs them, and then takes off, walking fast. I gape after her, not sure what the fuck just happened or where she's going. And maybe it's my imagination, but I think she had tears in her eyes.

"Wow, Gage," Victoria says after a moment. "That was brutal. I think I actually heard her poor little heart break."

Her friends snicker.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Jesus, you're oblivious," Victoria sneers. "She's obviously been waiting for you to ask her, but you're taking someone else and didn't even tell her." She shakes her head in mock pity, strands of blonde hair bouncing around her face. "And people think I'm the savage one."

Troian is upset because she thinks I'm taking someone else to Prom? I was talking about her, not some other girl. But…she doesn't know that, does she?

Fuck.

I'm not sure if Victoria is just lashing out because I turned her down publicly or if she's serious. But I intend to find out. I've been waiting for Troian to fall in love with me for what feels like forever. If she thinks I'm going to let her go that easily, she's going to be sorely disappointed.

One way or another, I'm making her mine. No more waiting.