In the Arms of the Elite (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #4) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,23
five hottest guys in school.
And now, I’m supposed to help rule over all of it.
Wish me luck.
We walk out and down the hall, only to find Andrew waiting for us just inside the hall door. He’s got on a sharp white suit that makes him look a bit like James Bond, especially with his slicked back hair. He whistles when he sees us and pushes off the wall to stand up straight.
“Holy hell, girls,” he says, and then he gives all three of us kisses on the cheek. He’s come a long way since his first year when he was sneaking off to kiss Gary Jacobs in the woods. I wonder if he’s told his parents yet? “You all look amazing.” He opens the door and gestures for us to step out onto the foyer together.
Zayd is waiting … surrounded by a bunch of girls.
I raise my brows as I step out, and they all scatter as Zayd stands up, his eyes widening when he sees me. He’s still wearing the Feminist AF tank, but he’s jazzed up his hair and added a dash of eyeliner.
“Marnye fucking Reed,” he growls, moving over to the top of the steps and cupping his hands around his mouth. “Make way for the Idols, folks. Your queen has arrived.” Zayd takes me by the arm, leaving Miranda and Lizzie behind us as we come down the steps.
Everyone is staring at us; everyone is looking.
It’s something I never really wanted, but now that I have it, I’m going to use my position for good. Because next year, there’s going to be another student who comes into Burberry Prep with the Cabot Scholarship Award, and I want the way paved for whoever that person is.
The other boys are waiting at the bottom of the staircase, fanned out in various states of dress: a blazer, t-shirt, and slacks for Tristan; tight shirt and jean shorts for Zack; what I swear to God is a polo uniform for Windsor; and a loose white button-up that’s most definitely not buttoned up for Creed.
“Boys,” I greet, and I get the laziest, sexiest little smile from Miranda’s twin.
“Your Majesty,” he says, and Windsor grins.
“Your Majesty, indeed. Marry me and make it official. No pre-nup. You can have half my fortune if we ever get divorced.”
“You’re seriously freaking weird, and I love you for it,” I say, and then my cheeks flame as Windsor’s brows go up. “I mean, like … not love-love, but … just …” I groan and put my hand up to cover my face. I’m not ready for I love you’s just yet.
Zayd just laughs at me and pulls me through the crowd, not caring either way if the others follow along behind us. The partygoers part for us, and I swear, I don’t get jostled by even one elbow. There are faces everywhere that I recognize, some in uniform, some not. There are Coventry Prep kids here, as well as Beverly Hills Prep students. There’s even a group wearing blue blazers that say Adamson Academy on the breast pocket.
“Alright, babe,” Zayd says, turning and throwing his arms wide to indicate the massive living room with the floor to ceiling windows, the huge taxidermic elk head over the stone fireplace, and the modern furniture with just a hint of cowboy to it. Yeah, Billy Kaiser’s style is definitely not my style, but I can appreciate it. Well, okay, I can appreciate everything but the decapitated animal head. Just not my thing. “We have our own canna-bar aka cannabis bar for those who just don’t do alcohol. If I may make a recommendation …” Zayd scans across the impressive array of marijuana products. There are edibles, joints, tinctures, vape pens, all sorts of stuff.
Legal age for both booze and marijuana is twenty-one in California. I’d be worried about the cops raiding this place if I didn’t think they’d probably already been paid off.
“A recommendation, huh?” I ask, because I’ve actually never tried pot before. Like, ever. Yes, I know, I’m the epitome of the quiet study hound, but that’s okay. I’ve always embraced that part of myself. Still, while alcohol is not something I’m ready to try yet, because of my dad’s past issues and all, maybe I’d try weed?
Zayd picks up a very small piece of chocolate between his fingers and turns to me, giving me that sexy, cocksure smirk of his. There are literally dozens of girls looking our way and checking him out, a few guys,