In the Arms of the Elite (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #4) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,7

a rat's nest. Creed gives her a look and sighs, lounging back in the sea of blankets and pillows like he owns the place. His mannerisms remind me of that episode of RuPaul's Drag Race that I watched last week, when they were dressing up as wealthy heiresses. “I own everything!”

“She was with us at the Club meeting,” Zack says, giving Miranda a look. “We literally piled into the bus, left, and drove straight here.”

“Whose bus is it?” I ask, my heart pounding, my palms getting sweaty. Tristan and Lizzie were alone at the Vanderbilt Manor for an entire week; I will not spend overly long thinking about what could've happened between them. I won't.

Zayd flashes me a big, white grin and leans his forearm against the edge of the door.

“Mine. This is Afterglow's tour bus.” Zayd pauses as Lizzie comes up the steps, her dark curls swept back in a ponytail, her smile soft and genuine. A strange feeling bubbles up inside of me, but I clamp down on it. If I don't give others the benefit of the doubt, who will? I have to set a good example.

“Hey,” she says, stepping forward to give me a hug. I return the gesture, despite Miranda's dark glare burning a hole in the side of my head. “Cute pj's.” Lizzie chuckles, and I groan, putting my face in my hand.

“Gift from Dad. I couldn't say no.” I glance up as the bathroom door opens and Tristan comes out, his hair wet and slicked back from his face. I try to look for some sort of connection between him and Lizzie, but he isn't looking at her. He's not looking at anyone.

“So …” Zayd starts, drawing my attention over to him again. His hair is still that beautiful sea green color from when we first met. I love it. He could dye it that way the rest of his life, and I'd be happy. Assuming we know each other that long … My heart starts to pound again, and I push the feelings back. I have all year to enjoy what I've got going with these boys. A whole year before I freak out. And it'll be at least December before I hear back from Bornstead.

There's time.

“So, what?” I ask as Tristan leans against the wall near the kitchen entrance, and Creed and Miranda get in some small stupid argument in whispered breaths.

Zayd twirls one of his black lip rings around in a circle with his tongue as he glances down at me with those beautiful emerald eyes of his. His grin morphs slowly into this cocksure little smile as he leans down close.

“You inspired me to get out there and just play some shit, like I used to before we got signed. The boys and I are holding an impromptu concert this weekend.” He pauses and pushes off the door, heeling it shut behind him and crossing his inked arms over his chest. I'm briefly reminded of our first meeting, when he told me I was 'fuckable'. How far we've come since then. “I thought you might like to come along.”

“A concert?” I ask, getting this fluttery sensation inside my chest. “I'd love that. Where at?”

Zayd smirks and puts the sole of his boot up against the door, watching me with half-lidded eyes. He seems to be in a good enough mood, but all I have to do is look at Windsor and Tristan to know that things with the Infinity Club aren't exactly rosy and covered in glitter.

Harper still hates me. My little sister wants nothing to do with me. Dad is sick. Fourth year at Burberry Prep is going to be insane.

“It's a secret. Only people who follow me closely on social media will know where it is.” Zayd winks at me again, and then chews on his lip ring. “Out of the kindness of my heart, I've even graciously invited your other boyfriends. What do you think, Charity? Doesn't that generosity deserve another kiss?”

“Don't be a lewd asshole,” Zack growls, giving Zayd a particularly unfriendly sort of look. He's got his letterman jacket on, and I have to wonder if he knows how much of a trigger that is for me.

“If I were being a lewd asshole …” Zayd starts, pushing off the door and stepping close, so he can sweep some of my rose-gold hair from my forehead. My pulse picks up, and I decide that I really, really need to get the hell out of these