Paul looks up at me again, a blush rising to his cheeks. “No, that they aren’t treating you right. If you were mine, I definitely would.”
“Oh,” I breathe, caught off guard by the random and wildly inappropriate confession. I don’t even know this guy– but then again, the fact that he’s already picked up on how poorly I’ve been treated by the Kings speaks volumes. “Well, thanks, Paul.”
“Please don't tell them I said that,” he quickly tacks on, blanching.
I force a brittle smile. “Your secret's safe with me,” I promise.
He relaxes, if only a little. “Thanks. You’re, uh, a lot nicer than they say.”
“Yeah, well, stick around,” I mutter wryly. “You might change your mind.”
He looks like he’s ready to prove me wrong, but we’ve arrived at the building for my first class, and I hurry inside to escape the chilly morning and awkward conversation. Paul trails behind like a shadow as I enter the lecture hall for my Spanish class, theroom already filling up with students. I look for Bryce, spotting him in his usual seat and heading straight for him.
“Hey,” I greet brightly, dropping into the chair beside him.
Bryce cocks a brow at the sight of Paul hovering behind me. “New pet?”
“Yeah,” I say with a sigh. “They’re gone for the day, so he’s my new bodyguard. Cute, right?”
Bryce smirks, eyes raking up and down Paul’s body to give him a once-over. “Scram, Wilkins. I can take it from here.”
Paul hesitates, clearly torn between Bryce’s demand and the Kings’ orders.
I glance back at him over my shoulder, taking advantage of his recently confessed crush by flirting a little. “It’s fine, really,” I reassure, batting my lashes. “They’re good with me hanging with Bryce.”
He hesitates a beat longer before jerking a nod, reluctantly moving to the opposite end of the row to keep an eye on me from afar.
“Can’t even sit through class without a bodyguard,” I grumble, rolling my eyes.
Bryce nudges me with an elbow. “Hey, some girls would kill for that kind of attention.”
“Some girls are stupid.”
He laughs; an easy, friendly sound that lifts my spirits more than I care to admit. Our Spanish professor clears his throat to begin his lecture, and I swing my gaze to the front of the room and settle in my chair, eager for an hour’s reprieve from the barrage of questions pounding my brain this morning.
Paul is waitingfor me outside the doors of the lecture hall after the class is dismissed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other like he has to pee. Bryce links his arm through mine, steering me toward the big double-doors to exit the building, and I feel a little bad when I hear my escort scramble to catch up. Then again, it’s not my fault he’s been assigned to my protection detail. Apparently this is the price of his admission to the cult of the Kings.
We push through the heavy doors and into the bright autumn morning, and I squint against the sudden change in light, the cool air refreshing against my skin. Then an ice storm rolls in from out of nowhere when I see Richelle on the path walking toward me, the two of us set on a path to collide.
“Richelle,” I blurt, stopping short in surprise. “How have you been?”
She quickly averts her eyes, ducking out of the way to dodge me and scuttling away.
Ouch.
She might’ve been the world’s worst roommate, but the absolute least she could’ve done was say hi back.
Bryce scowls at her, shaking his head as he turns to me. “She’s just jealous,” he grumbles, knocking his shoulder into mine. “A social climber like her would’ve killed to be the Kings’ Doll.”
I roll my eyes, because while I appreciate that he’s trying to stick up for me, that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“She’s fucking the dean, you know,” he adds, almost as an afterthought.
“What?” I choke, slamming to a stop.
Bryce shrugs as he swivels to face me, a smirk slipping across his lips. “Yep. She must have a thing for pudgy old married dudes.”
My shock is written all over my face as I try to wrap my mind around this new piece of information. Richelle mentioned an older boyfriend, but I never would’ve guessed it was the dean of students.
