The Envy of Idols (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #3) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,84
hell is this?” I whisper as Creed unlocks the door to a room on the top floor. Miranda’s right behind me, but the other boys have disappeared to various other rooms to drop off their stuff. I’m staying with the Cabots, courtesy of Kathleen. The academy does provide standard hotel rooms free of charge, but it’s two students to a room, and the pairings are random. Upgrades cost big money, but as Creed put it earlier: it’s literally nothing, so I take their generosity over the random chance I might get paired with Anna or Abigail or Mayleen.
Imagine the things they’d do while I slept.
“The presidential suite,” Creed says, yawning. I don’t think he means to be disrespectful (although he probably doesn’t care much about the lush splendor surrounding us). He just … well, he’s always yawning and lounging and draping himself over furniture. “Your bed is through that door”—he points at it, and then scowls—“and, unfortunately, I have to share the other one with my sister.”
“A massive suite like this, and it only has two beds?” I ask, moving over to the windows and covering my mouth with both hands. We’ve got a two hundred and seventy degree view of the city. I can see the Golden Gate Bridge as well as Alcatraz. It’s beyond amazing. I’m so excited by it that when Creed saunters up beside me, one hand tucked into his pocket, I throw my arms around his neck and give him a huge squeeze.
Miranda watches us from the seating area, smiling tightly. When I finish hugging her brother, I hug her, too. She laughs and pats my back, pushing me back a step. I notice that her cheeks are flushed pink though, and her pulse is pounding. Maybe she’s still crushing on me? My own cheeks heat with embarrassment.
“It's ridiculous, right?” Miranda says, dragging her suitcase toward the bedroom on the opposite side of the suite. “You can fit twenty people in this room, but you can only really sleep four at most.”
She shrugs her shoulders and returns to the bedroom, closing the door behind her as I return my focus to the wall of windows. The only plans for tonight include a late dinner in the restaurant downstairs, but otherwise we’re attending the symphony tomorrow, and the ballet on Sunday. On Monday, we have a whole day to explore the museums.
"She really likes you, you know," Creed says, sighing and running his fingers through his hair. "Don't you dare break her heart," he warns me, moving over to stand beside me and cupping my chin with his long fingers. "Don't you break mine either."
Creed leans in to kiss me, and I lift up on my toes to meet him halfway, curling my fingers around his lean but still muscular shoulders.
Our kiss sears every part of me, my lips, my heart, my soul. It amps up like it did in the library and I pull away before Miranda can come out and see us. Creed makes a little groaning sound as I pull away, his fingers sliding along the curve of my waist until they finally drop by his side.
His eyes linger on me until I disappear behind my bedroom door, and I have to take a minute to sit down the edge of my bed and breathe before I have enough mental energy to get up and change for dinner.
Every time they touch me, I feel something shift inside, this wild heat awakening in my body that I don't know what to do with. It's almost painful, how much I want them.
That feeling, it isn't going to last long without pulling me apart completely.
We all dress up for the symphony, the boys in tuxes, and the girls in long, glittery dresses. I wear a white gown that feels a bit like a wedding dress, but that I can't really complain about since I stole it from Miranda. And when I say stole, what I really mean is that she brought over heaps of clothes to my dorm room and made me try on a bunch until I found something that fit.
The symphony and, the following day, the ballet, are just as magnificent as I hoped they'd be. Seeing the harpist onstage was mesmerizing, definitely something to shoot for.
"If I hadn't already decided I wanted to be a professor, I'd seriously start thinking about making a career out of music." I'm lying on my bed next to Creed, still dressed in the long white gown with