bent their heads together to whisper to each other.
They looked like they had plenty to talk about.
Even when he hates me, Eli is still the Golden Boy, shunning his many other friends to sit with George – who has no one else and only came in the first place out of loyalty to me. And then, on Wednesday, George didn’t show up at our table for lunch. I went looking for her in case Cleo had done something to her, and found her and Eli bent over a desk in the computer lab, laughing at a video of Gizmo on his phone. I snuck away before they could see me.
I’m dying to ask George if Eli said anything about me, but I can’t put her in the middle like that, not when I know she carries a candle for Eli and that she’s already wound up about the dance.
I don’t have to wonder why George has a crush on Eli. Of course she does – he’s perfect. I don’t know if it’s the same kind of heart-pounding, pulse-racing, panty-melting want she has for Isaac, or if it’s more of an innocent kid-sister thing born of his kindness. It doesn’t matter. He deserves someone like George, someone who won’t barge into his life like an iceberg to sink all his hopes and dreams to the bottom of the icy ocean.
I have Noah and Gabriel. I need to let Eli go. He can be with George if he wants to, or any other girl. Even Cleo, if that sack of bitching and Botox makes him happy. He has every reason to never speak to me again.
I wish…
Daddy showed me how to sneak a Roman bust into the country and how to stand on a man’s windpipe until he stops breathing. But he never taught me how to mend a broken heart.
To distract myself from imagining what can never be, I yank George off the bed and give her hair a final twist. “There you go. You’re ready to knock his socks off.”
“Thank you, Mackenzie.” George’s eyes sweep over my outfit. “Do you need anything else?”
“Nope, I’m good.” I’m better than good. I’m fierce. The ice-blue fishtail dress George picked out for me hugs my curves perfectly. There’s a scattering of beading across the breast and around the hem that catches the light as I move, and the crystal crown she’s set into my hair sparkles under the garish lighting. I’m a mermaid – the Ice Queen of the deep.
I text Gabriel to let the guys know we’re ready. A moment later, the front door of the condo bangs open. George and I hang over the mezzanine as Gabriel grins up at us, a bottle of Champagne in hand.
Gabriel pours drinks while we crowd around, taking selfies with the horrific decor. My chest does a little flip-flop as I take in my dates. True to his promise, Gabriel is wearing a pinstripe, gangster-style suit – the narrow lines accentuating every sinful curve and muscle of his body. A black skinny tie covered in grinning skulls and a pair of patent leather creepers covered in bones perfect his look. With his freshly-dyed crimson hair and a bone-shaped stud in his labret piercing, Gabe is every inch the bad boy rockstar. Well, almost every inch – I notice the drink in his hand is sparkling grape juice.
And Noah… fuck me dead, Noah Marlowe is magnificent. His suit and shirt are pure midnight black, matching his eyes and his heart. The only sparkle of color are two dots of blood-red on his cufflinks – rubies sparkling from their gold settings. He steps up to me and hands me a velvet box. I open it to see a matching ruby ring.
I swallow.
I want to say something, but the words catch in my throat.
No one’s ever given me a gift like this before. Noah’s coal-eyes bore into mine as he removes the ring from its cushion and slips it on my finger. “I wanted to give you something that would remind you of my promise.”
I will bleed for you.
Fire leaps beneath my skin as Noah’s fingers caress mine. I press my hand against my pattering heart. The metal is cool, grounding. Against my pale skin and the ice of my dress, the color of the red jewel deepens to rich crimson. Our blood. Our promise.
Gabriel admires my finger as I hold the jewel up to the light, admiring it from all angles. “I can’t let Marlowe here steal