If she’d heard him in class, why was she asking now?
“Look, let me give you a piece of advice.” She smiled, a poor attempt at being gracious, as if she were talking to a dear friend. It was so, so fake. “Dawson is a total player. Been through the entire school and then some. So has his brother, and they like to mess with people. Pretending to be each other, if you get my drift.”
Disappointment spiked. Memories of her relationship with Daniel surfaced and flickered through her mind. Old wounds were lanced open, and she blurted out, “Why are you telling me this?”
Kimmy gave her an are you for real look. “You’re the new girl. Why else do you think he’s so interested in you?” Her gaze traveled over Bethany’s jeans and sweater like she seriously couldn’t figure it out. “I’m just trying to do my good deed of the day and warn you. That boy…well, he’s been around.”
With that, Kimmy turned on her heel and strutted off.
“What the hell?” Bethany said out loud, her voice echoing in the empty room. Was everyone in the school always this friendly? Geez.
Taking a deep breath, she left the locker room, telling herself not to read too much into what Kimmy had said. It could be jealousy. It could be pure girl bitchiness.
Or it could be true, whispered an evil, nasty voice. Why would she be surprised if it was? She wouldn’t. Both of the brothers were hotness incarnate. She’d be stupid to believe that Dawson didn’t have an acre of ex-girlfriends. Pushing open the door with more of a punch than anything necessary, she wondered if she should cancel on him. The last thing she needed was to be a notch on his belt, no matter how fine that belt was. And the fact that she was already pissy about the idea spoke volumes.
She was way into him.
And he was waiting for her in the hall, leaning against a trophy case, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He must’ve showered, because locks of dark hair curled over his forehead. The V-neck sweater clung to his shoulders.
Her heart did a pitter-patter in her chest at the sight of him. She stopped short, clutching the strap on her bag. “Hey.”
He didn’t smile or grin, only watched her with intense eyes. “I wanted to apologize for my friend.”
That douche was his friend? “It’s not your fault, but maybe—”
“Yeah, it kind of is.” Pushing off the locker, he ran his hand through his hair. “I know that doesn’t make sense, but I’m just sorry he was such a tool to you. And I hope you didn’t change your mind about grabbing something to eat. Not that I’d blame you if you did.”
Now she was confused. Yes, she was changing her mind, but not because of Andrew. And she honestly couldn’t figure out why his friend’s behavior was his problem. But the sincerity in Dawson’s voice and eyes got to her. Player or not, he felt bad when he had no reason to.
Dawson nodded slowly, as if her lack of answer had been one. “All right, I guess it is what it is.”
Her mouth snapped open but nothing came out. Why did this keep happening around the boys in West Virginia?
Standing there before him, she stared, wanting to tell him that it was okay and that she still, against all common sense, wanted to grab something to eat with him. Wanted to hang out and be friends…maybe even more than friends.
But she didn’t say anything.
Giving her a faint smile, he stepped forward. “Do you have a piece of paper and a pen?”
“Uh, sure.” She dug the items out of her bag and handed them over. He immediately started to scribble something. “Dawson, I really—”
“It’s okay. Here,” he said, handing her the paper and pen back. “That’s my number. Call me anytime, if you want. And again, I’m sorry.”
She glanced at the piece of notebook paper, surprised to see that his handwriting was as fluid and graceful as his movements. When she looked up, Dawson was already gone.
…
Dawson was pissed. He wanted to go over to the asshat’s house and drive his car through it. The fact he liked his Jetta was the only thing that stopped him from giving them a new doorway. Well, and Adam, the good twin, as he’d come to refer to him, was a pretty cool guy. So was Ash, when she wasn’t with Daemon.
Andrew had a problem with Bethany only because he’d seen Dawson checking her out in gym, and of course, he was one nosy son of a brat. Out of all the Luxen who lived outside of the community, Andrew was the only one who seemed better suited for living among their kind.
Halfway to his house, Dawson’s phone beeped. Hoping it was Bethany and feeling like a fool for doing so, he leaned back and pulled out the slim iPhone from his front pocket.
And of course it was from his darling brother. Message was short and to the point.
Come home now.
Part of him wanted to say screw it and go anywhere but home, but he’d have to go there sometime. However, he did slow down to a near crawl, ticking off the row of trucks with bumper stickers like Real Women Love Ford and Trucks Do It Better.
The road winding up to his house was silent and empty, like every house that shared the same street. But his driveway was packed. Great. Climbing out of the car, he slammed the door shut.
A crew of Luxen was waiting for him inside. His brother and sister, Adam, Andrew, and Ash, and even Matthew, their unofficial guardian, was there.
Dawson leaned against the door, folding his arms. “Is this an intervention? I can’t wait to hear your letters.”
Daemon’s eyes flashed white light. “Tell me it’s not true.”
“Not sure what ‘it’ is.”