Devil Incarnate (Boys of Preston Prep #4) - Angel Lawson Page 0,15

never hear them called anything worse than ‘players’, and even then, it’s never spoken with anything less than jaded admiration. I stare at the name engraved into the plaque above the natatorium: Bates. Case in point, Hamilton Bates was one of the biggest manwhores this school has ever seen. He settled down with Gwendolyn Adams and everyone wants to give him an award for it.

Fuck that.

I push open the glass doors and inhale the faint scent of chlorine out in the lobby. I’ve been to plenty of swim and diving meets here, so I know the coach’s office is off the back hallway, toward the locker rooms. The Devils usually came out to support Tyson when he was on the dive team, and plus, what’s not to like about seeing a bunch of hot, fit guys in Speedos?

Snap!

I spot the Devil's Swim banner next to a closed door. Another student is already sitting in one of the chairs outside. As I get closer, I have to do a double take when I realize that it’s Micha Adams.

“Hey,” I say, giving him a grin. “You waiting on Coach James, too?”

Micha’s gotten a lot taller over the summer. He’s willowy now, and his voice is a little deeper when he answers, “Yep, I’m trying to get out of swim,” but there’s also something delicately feminine about his new, matured features. His cheekbones are sharper. Curly hair that’s been buzzed short at the sides and left long at the top makes it tumble down over an artfully glittered eyelid.

He’s fucking gorgeous.

I pause when his words register. “I’m here for the same reason.”

Slowly, we size one another up. There’s no way Coach James will let us both off the hook. Too visible. Other students would start asking. Shit.

“Why don’t you want to take the class?” His eyes narrow suspiciously. “Wait, aren’t you too old for this class?”

Rolling my eyes, I fall into the chair next to him, ripping my bag of popcorn open. “Lame as hell, but I’m short a P.E. credit from when I…uh, studied abroad freshman year. That’s half my problem, too. It’s going to all be underclassmen.” I glance at him, remembering that he’s a sophomore now, and extend the bag in offer. “No offense.”

Reaching inside, he takes a few pieces of popcorn. “None taken.” Micha may be the most confident person I know.

“You barely even look like an underclassman anymore,” I add, giving him a sly look as I chomp on my piece of popcorn. “That was quite the glow-up you had over the summer, Adams.”

He gives me a sharp look, saying, “Bitch, I’ve always glowed.” The words are without bite, though. “So what’s the second half of your problem? Because I doubt Coach James is going to care about you being too cool for underclassmen.”

I give him some more popcorn and reluctantly confess, “Uh, well, I’m not exactly a great swimmer. I’m not even a bad swimmer. Basically, I just don’t swim at all.”

He rolls his eyes. “I follow your ChattySnap, Georgia. Mostly because you post a lot of fine guys, but also, I’ve seen all the pictures you posted over the summer of you on that yacht. Don’t tell me you can’t swim.”

“I was on the boat, Micha. Not in the water.” I sigh, letting my head fall back as I chew. “I had this dumb incident when I was a kid, and now I just hate getting into deep water. What’s your excuse?” Something occurs to me. “Wait, isn’t your sister some kind of swim star at Vanderbilt?”

“Yeah, and?” De-fen-sive. “You know we’re not blood-related, right? You can tell, what with her being so white and all.”

“You’re half-white,” I point out. “That’s not, like, totally outside the realm of logic.”

“The point is, it’s not like we got the same athletic genes. I just never saw the point in learning. It’s not like I was ever going to be better than Gwen, so what’s the point, right?”

I give him a baffled look. “I don’t think that’s really how stuff works.”

“You sound like you only have one sibling,” he says, reaching into the bag for more. “I have four, so let me give you some wisdom; that’s the secret to familial harmony. Everyone gets their ‘thing’. Mine is dance.” He flashes me a winning smile. “That and being fucking awesome.”

I purse my lips. “I think you spent too much around Sebastian last year.”

“Not possible.” Giving me a look that’s always been reserved for the fairer Wilcox around this place,