The Envy of Idols (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #3) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,16

trying to change his ways, she might want him?

I step forward without meaning to, and both Zayd and Zack stand up behind me.

“I've already told him,” Tristan says, shaking her off. “Stop your groveling. It's pathetic. Nobody here likes you enough to see your vulnerable side and still want to hang out with you. If you want to keep any of your friends, then step down willingly and fade into the background. I have two years left at Burberry to make your life miserable.”

Harper spits in his face, and Tristan scowls, swiping his hand across his face to wipe it off. He keeps walking, heads right over to the refreshments table and gets me the drink that I asked for. While the entire beach watches, he turns back around and delivers it straight to me.

“I won't kiss you with that girl's filth on me, but give me a chance to wash off.” I take the soda, doing my best not to gape, and turn to watch as Tristan heads to the edge of the beach, tears his shirt over his head, kicks off his sandals, and wades in.

The buzzing sound of conversation starts up again, like the chirping of insects, as I turn to Zayd and look at him with a million questions bobbing in my eyes.

“Zayd Kaiser, please explain to me what's happening here,” I whisper as I meet his eyes, and he nods once, briskly.

“I promise I will,” he says, tracing the infinity symbol tattoo over the fabric of his shirt. “Just not here. Before you leave the Hamptons, okay?”

I exhale and take a sip of my soda, but I'm already nodding.

Not here, not in this tank of sharks.

I swear, it feels like the eyes of every single Blueblood are on me. That scares me. We're outnumbered as it is. And I can't be surrounded by my friends—wait, are the Idols really my friends?—at all times. What happens next time Harper catches me alone in the locker room? Or I come around the corner in the chapel building and find John and Greg waiting for me? My mind strays to that video Andrew took of those psychos chasing him down.

Shivers overtake me.

“Ben has to go down this week,” I whisper, and Zayd gives me a tight half-smile. Creed appears a minute later, pausing next to me as Tristan makes his way up the beach with his dark hair dripping.

I'm not going to lie: he looks like a god.

“So much for ignoring them then?” Creed drawls, yawning and lifting his chin defiantly. “Now what, your majesty?”

“If they engage us, we push back. Don't let them see any cracks in our comradery, Creed.” Tristan pushes sopping hair from his forehead as Windsor steps up beside him, still sipping foamy beer from a cup. The two men exchange a brief look.

“Of course not, Tristan,” Creed replies, rolling his blue eyes. “We're the best of friends, aren't we? Even Zack Brooks here, he's my buddy.”

“I don't see why we can't be friends,” Zack growls, and having all five guys surrounding me like this, it's quite obvious that he's the biggest, strongest one. My heart stutters in my chest. “After all, you've got a cruel streak to match mine. We're a match made in heaven. Just so long as you stop directing that inner core of hate on Marnye, we won't have any problems.”

“When can I beat the shit out of Greg, John, and Ben?” Zayd asks, cracking inked knuckles.

“One step at a time,” Tristan says, staring over my shoulder at the Bluebloods. “One step at a time.” He pushes past Windsor and takes a seat in front of the fire, leaning back against the log for support. “First we win over the Plebs.”

Windsor watches this exchange, and then bites into a peach. I'm not sure where he got it from, but he looks bemused as he smiles at me with juice running down his chin, and then starts off down the beach like he's taking a stroll.

Even though I promised myself I wouldn't put my trust in anyone, Windsor is certainly winning me over. I let him go, and I don't think too hard about it, focusing instead on Miranda and Andrew. She drags him over, pushing past her brother for a spot next to me.

“This is so crazy. Makes last summer look like a breeze,” Miranda whispers, eating the gossip up with a spoon.

“This is dangerous,” Andrew hedges, but I can see him watching Windsor as the prince takes off down