Stuck With The Four Hotties

Watching his tattooed fingers tease the instrument to life gives me chills. “That first look in the morning, suFh a honeyed sweetness, the only thing

I’m living for.” Zayd continues to strum, getting into the song and biting his lower lip as he plays. “Nothing Fould never take away the first blush of morning, the glossed gold of her hair; the way she hates me makes me want her.”

“This is fucking stupid,” I hear Harper snort behind me, but there are too many teachers back here for her to do a damn thing. I’m not concerned.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“There’s no girl that burns so bright as Charity, no sunray that gives off so muFh light. Summer storms Fould never sway me, that sweet-hot rain, the taste of her warm mouth.” He closes his eyes and strokes his guitar like I wish he’d stroke me … Eek. Did I just think that?! I did. I did, and I’m not ashamed. “So Fomplex, so un-Fonfusing. Just the way she likes it, the whole world as her oyster, the everything I need.” He draws this last word out, and I swear, I’m swooning. Sucking my bottom lip under my teeth, I wait in tense anticipation for him to finish the song. I want to kiss him so damn bad right now.

Someday soon I’m going to an Afterglow FonFert, I think, trying to imagine Zayd with an electric guitar, dressed to the nines, putting on a full- blown performance for an adoring crowd. I’ve looked up some of his previous shows on YouTube, but as impressive as they are, I bet it’s nothing compared to seeing him live. There’s this charismatic energy he brings to a room that’s impossible to convey over media. Impossible.

When Zayd finishes the song, I find my feet moving before I can stop myself.

I end up on the stage, throwing my arms around his neck. Several girls that are sitting in the auditorium seats boo, but I ignore them. The inked asshole that I hated, then liked, then hated, and now … whatever it is that I feel for him, he grabs me around the waist and kisses me like he really believes all those things from his song.

We kiss for so long that Mr. Carter has to tap the microphone and ask us to stop.

I’d be embarrassed if I weren’t so elated.

My turn is next, and one of the first-year orchestra students wheels my harp onto the stage.

I sit down to play John Thomas’ WatFhing the Wheat (an obscure piece from the eighties-told you I was far from hip), and I swear, the harp has never sounded prettier.

I’ve always played with my heart. It must just be that my heart is fuller now.

To think that has something to do with these boys … is terrifying. I’m going to have to be careful to keep all these new feelings safe.

“They’re all performing at the talent show,” Miranda says, standing in the courtyard with water bubbling in the fountain behind her. She has a nice, high ponytail, black shorts, and a white razorback top with the Burberry Prep logo on it. Fall break is here, and it’s like first year all over again: Miranda is off to a volleyball camp, and Charlie is at a job in Napa. I don’t think he should be working right now, but bills have to be paid.

So I told him about the money, the poker money.

I called him because it felt cowardly to text it, to reveal I had damn near eighty grand in an account that I’d barely touched. Of course, Charlie being Charlie, he refused to take it. He told me to save it for college.

I cross my arms over my chest, and sigh. I’m beyond frustrated. Dad should let me come home and take care of him. Instead, I just got Harry Potter’d again and left at Hogwarts. Only, instead of magic, this school is full of gorgeous boys. Five of them. And they’re all staying for the break to attend more of their stupid Infinity Club parties.

The difference this time, is that Lizzie is here, too.

“What?” I ask, blinking and refocusing on my bestie. We haven’t talked about … the kiss. Not in a while. I’m not sure if she’s given up or if she’s still interested. Frankly, I’m scared to find out. I don’t want romantic feelings to come between us and our friendship. If I’m honest, it’s the same issue with the boys. For four of them-if not all five-this relationship we’ve just started won’t work out. Will we still be friends after? It scares me to think that we won’t because I enjoy their company so damn much.

“I should’ve made Andrew stay here with you,” Miranda murmurs, sighing as the bus pulls up and her coach calls for the girls to climb on. “Who needs an overseas trip to Tokyo when you could be here, at gorgeous Burberry Prep, home of a serious Infinity Club throwdown?” She pauses her rant, leans over, and gives me a big kiss on the cheek. “Stay safe, don’t do anything stupid, and try not to get killed by Harper before I get back, okay?” “What did you mean about the talent show?” I ask before she pulls away.

She shrugs her shoulders, tosses her pony, and then gives me a look.

“If you don’t think your new beaus are going to fuck that shit up, you’ve got another thing coming.” Miranda gives me a wink and bounces off to join her team, leaving me standing there and wondering.

If the old adage, an eye for an eye holds true …

“You’re going to dump paint on them while they perform, aren’t you?” I ask, finding Tristan and Creed waiting for me near the stained glass doors that lead into the chapel. We’re still trying to stick with the chaperone thing. If my boys assaulted the entire Company on their own, then what’s going to happen if the entire Company finds me alone?

“Paint?” Tristan asks, sounding bored. His gray eyes take me in appreciatively, and he lets a naughty little smirk take over his mouth.

“Definitely not paint,” Creed drawls, his white-blond hair catching the light. “That much I can promise.” I give him a look, but he just gives me a slow, little wink. “No lies, right?”

“No outright lies, I’m sure, but you’re clearly running circles around me.” “Are we, Creed?” Tristan asks, tilting his head to one side. “Running

circles around her, I mean?”

“Maybe,” Creed replies slowly, and I think what a deliciously evil pair they make. If they spent as much time working together as they do competing with each other, they’d be a serious force to reckon with. I’m wondering if I’m starting to see the beginning of that right here. Creed smiles at me, this deadly twist of lips that makes my heart pound. “But fuck that. We have more important things to worry about, like how we’re going to spend an entire week off school together.”

“I thought you had Infinity Club crap to keep you busy?” I ask, and the two Idol boys exchange a glance. They both look so handsome in their uniforms, I don’t even mind that they have to wear them every day. Although it’s always a treat to see what clothes they pick when we’re outside of academy time.

“Just a few little parties here and there.” Tristan moves toward me, and Creed steps up on the opposite side. I’m framed by two glorious Adonis

boys now. I bite my lip. “The rest of the time we’re … free.” He circles around me and runs a single finger along the back of my shoulder blades, making me shiver.

“Free for all the dirty work,” Creed continues, tracing my lower lip with his thumb.

Tristan comes back around to stand beside him, and I realize that I’m shaking slightly. Having the two of them turn their flirtations on me like this makes it feel as if I’m standing under a spotlight. My skin feels tight and achy and hot.

“What are you going to do while we’re busy?” Creed whispers, leaning over so he move his lips against my ear. “Read all of those dirty boys’ love comics you like?”

“Boys’ love comics, huh?” Tristan purrs, and then he laughs, this sumptuous sound that makes me shiver. “You like watching boys kiss?” He glances over as Creed stands back up, reaching out long fingers to touch the smooth, porcelain line of his friend’s jaw. Tristan leans in enticingly, eyes closed, lips brushing up on Creed’s cheek, right at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, deliFious.”

“Fuck off,” Creed says, lazily pushing Tristan away as the Burberry royal laughs. The sound is just as cruel as his smile. “Marnye can go read about bad boys teasing their fingers up each other’s shirts.” He slides his palm under my jacket to grip my waist. “Or down each other’s pants …”

“Stop that,” I whisper, grabbing his wrist as he tries to dip his hand down below the waistband of my skirt. Miranda’s words ring in my head like a bell. Virgin, virgin, virgin. Is he really though? “Yes, I get the point. I can’t wander around the empty school by myself when Harper’s ready to slit my throat. I’ll let you lock me in my room while you party tonight.”

“Tonight, we’ve got nothing to do but let you entertain us,” Creed says as he guides me toward the door and Tristan opens it for us. They’re doing an almost disturbingly good job sharing me. It makes me wonder if they’ve ever shared a girl before-other than Lizzie, I mean. Although from what I hear that was pretty platonic.

Lizzie.

She’ll be with Tristan at the parties this week, and I won’t.

My stomach hurts all of a sudden, and I recognize the emotion right away: jealousy.

“Zayd stole the key for the school theater,” Tristan says, tucking his right hand into the front pocket of his blazer, his eyes scanning the hall as we walk. He knows as well as I do that even together, the three of us could be ambushed. “We’ll watch a horror movie, something gruesome and bloody.”

“Tristan loves blood,” Creed says, and I raise an eyebrow as both boys grin.

“How many of the Company are left on campus?” I ask,

and Tristan glances back with one dark brow raised.