Page 3 of Made for Cyn
We enter the fray, and immediately I’m met with curious stares, the obvious newbie among them. Of course, my cheeks heat at the scrutiny, and I give a silent sigh because I can’t just be normal, like Iris.
“Who’s this?” A guy asks, stepping around the flames with a glittering stare.
He’s cute, with blond hair pushed back across his forehead, pretty blue eyes, and a wide grin. I smile tentatively, my cheeks burning when his eyes brighten, and unsurprisingly I find myself tongue-tied in the face of his interest.
“This, everyone,” Iris calls out, and I glare with utter embarrassment, “is my cousin, Rain. Rain, this is everyone.”
A chorus of greetings come at me, and the guy before me says, “I’m Rand. Nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” I murmur.
He steps toward me, and I glance away, completely freaked out at the prospect of making small talk. When I do, I clash with the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen. They positively blaze at me under dark brows and thick dark lashes, but as soon as I make eye contact, the guy to whom they belong turns his head away, calling out in a deep voice, “All right, dicks. I thought this was a party.”
For a moment, all I can do is stare because he’s so . . . everything, and I’m caught out. I can’t catch my breath, and my stomach swoops uncomfortably before erupting with a flurry of tingles.
His long lashes fan his sharp cheekbones when he blinks, and his relaxed expression, at odds with his thin lips, is stretched in a devilish smirk. He’s tall, much taller than me, wearing a black shirt cut off at the sleeves that does nothing to hide his nicely defined chest, currently stretching the material mercilessly. His bare arms are covered in ink from his wrists to shoulders, the beautiful swirls of color stark against the backdrop of his skin.
Loose jeans hang on his hips, hiding his package, but for a moment, I wonder what’s underneath before my cheeks flame with fire, and I turn away altogether.
I can’t put my finger on it, but he screams danger, and my pulse pounds in response, even as liquid heat dances through my veins. He’s beautiful, dark, and wicked, and I must be out of my mind because I want to see more, but I have a feeling this one would eat me up and spit me out without so much as a blink of the eye.
“Who invited you, dick?” Rand sneers, his handsome features pulling up in an ugly snarl.
A glance at the new guy reveals him arching his brows, perfectly formed to look devilish against the backdrop of his sharp features—the expression screams of misdeeds, undoubtedly both pleasurable and naughty.
“Fuck off,” he says succinctly.
“No, you fuck off! We don’t party with fucking gang bangers.”
Startled, I stare at Rand, disturbed by his attitude and the tension rising between the two. The new guy steps forward with dark eyes, but Iris interjects with a breathless giggle. “I invited them.”
Unbelievably, after her proclamation, she steps into the arms of a guy who appears next to the emerald-eyed god and immediately starts sucking his face. Her date, or whatever you call him, is fucking huge and scary looking. His muscles have muscles, and he towers over the other guys, including the mystery man.
“Great,” Rand grumbles, a nasty look crossing his face before he turns to me with a smile. “C’mon, want a drink?”
No, I don’t, but I have no idea what to do in this situation, and when I glance back athim, he’s turned away to my disappointment.
“Sure,” I say softly, as he disappears into the darkness with an attractive brunette attached to his hip.
Shivering in the cool air, I stare after him helplessly and wish for the first time that I had tried a little harder to fit in.
Foolish.
Chapter Two
“Cammie Myers is a fucking bitch. I’m going to kick her ass as soon as I see her.”
To my left sits a trio of girls, and they’re all perfectly put together with shiny long hair, artfully applied makeup, and sultry smiles.
The blonde in the middle, who’s apparently going to beat up Cammie Myers, glances up and curls her lip when she finds me staring at her. On either side of her, the two brunettes follow suit.
The one to her right, with sparkling gray eyes, asks, “So, you’re Iris’ cousin?”
I give a slight nod but frown when she runs her eyes over me before muttering, “Too bad.”
“I’m sorry?” I look between them curiously. These are soon to be my classmates, and it’s with a small thrill I realize I’m officially hanging out with my peers.
“Iris is a little bitch and a skanky ho. You’d be better off ditching her if you want to fit in at all,” she huffs, raising a supercilious brow.
