The Punk and the Plaything (When Rivals Play #3) - B.B. Reid Page 0,121

throughout high school, I tried not to think about how I hadn’t heard from Jamie all day. It was thoughtful of him to send Four and Lou to keep me company, but a “thank you, ma’am” after he wham-bammed me all night would have been nice.

I glanced over my shoulder as we climbed the wooden stairs and saw Four texting furiously on her phone. She was the only one who’d opted out of drinking since she was driving Ever’s G-Wagon.

“Hey, Bee, open the door, will ya? I think I’m wasted,” Lou announced.

I frowned because I’d had more to drink than she had, and I was nowhere near as wasted. Tipsy maybe. Glancing at the door, I wondered if I’d been led into some kind of trap. Lou watched me expectantly while Four fought a grin. If they had been anyone else, I would have got the hell out of there, but I trusted them. I may have been in social exile for the last five years, but I still recognized good people when I saw them. Taking a deep breath, I decided I could handle whatever was waiting for me on the other side of that door.

Pushing it open, I stepped into the dark house and looked around. I could make out the outline of a couch and maybe a lamp or two. Moving farther inside, I jumped when the door behind me slammed shut. Whirling around, I saw the shadow of a man looming over me. Panic speared my chest a second before there was a click, and then a flashlight illuminated his grinning face.

“Hello, Clarice,” my stalker greeted in a raspy voice.

“Jamie! Ugh! I’m going to kill you!” My fist balled as I flew toward him. I was very much looking forward to seeing blood pour from his pierced nose onto his lush upper lip. Before I could land the first punch, however, light flooded the entire room.

“Surprise!”

I paused mid-swing and looked around in shock. Ever, Vaughn, Wren, and Tyra stood at the helm of the room filled with people, half of whom I didn’t recognize. I had no doubt they were all friends of Jamie’s.

I stood there, not knowing what to do or say. No one had ever done anything like this for me. It was more than I could have hoped for, more than I deserved.

“I hope we didn’t scare you too much,” Tyra apologized as she walked up to me with a gentle smile and a tiara in her hand. She was so tiny that I had to bend down a little for her to place it on my head. “I told Jamie not to scare you like that.”

“It’s fine,” I whispered with a grin.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to hang out,” she said when she was done positioning the tiara. “Someone had to make sure the guys didn’t screw up your party or invite strippers.”

I didn’t get the chance to respond before I felt Jamie locking his arm around my waist and pulling me back until my ass rested against his groin. At five foot ten, I used to hate being taller than most girls, but being in Jamie’s arms always made me feel like my height was just right—especially when we played together.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

“But my birthday isn’t until tomorrow.” It was all I could think to say. Jamie was destroying me in the best possible way.

Wordlessly, he lifted his phone and showed me the time.

12:01.

I sucked more air than I needed into my lungs.

I was eighteen today.

I was free. Or at least… I would soon be.

Jamie pulled me deeper into the house, where he introduced me to his friends. I was in awe at how many he’d made in the year he’d been here. Most of the kids here attended some of the public schools nearby, which meant Jamie had been busy.

I pursed my lips, wondering just how popular he’d become. I looked around, searching for the jealous gazes of scorned lovers and was surprised to see that there were only three other girls besides Four, Lou, and Tyra in attendance. The girls didn’t keep me in suspense as to who they were either as they flanked some short Latino, who introduced himself as Matty before introducing me to his extra limbs. By the time he’d finished speaking their names, I’d already forgotten them as I watched the trio and their fuck-me smiles drink in the sight of Jamie.

“Well, aren’t you a peach,” Matty gushed, “and I do mean a peach.