Never His Girl (Kings of Cypress Prep #2) - Rachel Jonas Page 0,49

up the awkward tension when Sterling doesn’t respond.

The two of us lift our plates, accepting a slice. Then, Sterling does the same. My phone’s buzzing in my pocket before I even get the chance to grab my fork, though.

First thought when the text comes through is that Sterling’s venting again. However, I’m suddenly queasy when I see who it’s actually from.

Parker: ‘I need to see you. Be at my house in an hour. Come alone.’

I tip the screen toward Sterling to show him the message. His response is the confused look on his face I interpret to mean ‘What the fuck does she want now?’

I shrug and try to pretend I’m not worried, but it’s never far from my mind that I didn’t exactly stick to the plan. Didn’t exactly keep my word. The deal between me and Parker was for me to keep my mouth shut and she’d keep what she knows to herself. Only, I got desperate, gave in, telling Southside more than I should have. Which, ironically enough, came nowhere near telling her enough.

“You going?” Sterling asks, being discreet about it.

Anger has my face blazing hot now, and I give the only answer I can.

“Don’t have much of a fucking choice.”

@QweenPandora: Happy Turkey Day, lovelies ;)

It’s freezing outside, and while most of you are knee-deep in your third helping of green bean casserole, I received a rather interesting series of photos.

Looks like, after leaving dinner at the Harrison’s not-so-humble abode, KingMidas made a pitstop. Here he is, headed inside none other than PrincessParker’s palace, about fifteen minutes after her parentals take off. Then, he resurfaces nearly twenty minutes later, and the two linger outside her door a little while. Tonight’s mystery photographer reported getting a very heavy vibe from whatever the pair were discussing.

My guess?

This was more than just a friendly social call.

KingMidas seems to have been working double-time to earn NewGirl’s forgiveness, but maybe he was looking for a bit of an ego boost tonight. Maybe he needed someone who’s known to give in when he pushes, instead of pushing back?

Whatever the case, if NewGirl reads this, QB-1 will likely spend the rest of the night groveling and doling out excuses. Better make them good, KingMidas. This will do NOTHING to help your latest cause.

What say you, folks? Is our boy playing both sides of the field?

Check out the pics and you be the judge.

Later, Peeps.

—P

Chapter 19

BLUE

“Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Avery. Everything was great,” I say just as Jules closes her front door behind us.

We ate until we were stuffed, hung out playing board games a couple hours after that, but it’s getting late. With work tomorrow, I need to get home.

I’m bogged down with grocery bags stacked with Tupperware containers filled with food. Thanks to Jules and her family, Scar and I have enough leftovers to get through the weekend.

Even with Mike inevitably sneaking into them.

It’s dark, so it’s not unheard of for Jules to walk Scar and me to the corner. Especially now, with news of the few missing south side girls still fresh on everyone’s minds. But still, I know Jules mostly insisted because she wants to talk about things we couldn’t discuss in front of her parents.

Scar’s about twenty paces ahead of us. Texting Shane, of course. This gives us plenty of space to chat without her overhearing.

“So, any updates?” Jules asks.

I hold my chin while I think, pretending not to have a clue what she’s talking about. She shoves me and I laugh.

“There is no update. I come out of class, and he’s just… standing there. I walk to the next class and he’s right there with me.”

I leave out the part where, on Tuesday, I tripped over my own feet and he caught me around my waist. That small bit of contact nearly had my whole body catching fire, but I played it off, keeping my face void of expression as I slipped out of his grasp.

“You’re better than me,” she admits. “I mean, if this guy’s as good with his mouth as you say, no way he wouldn’t have had my full forgiveness by now. I mean, full forgiveness.”

Smiling, I nudge her with my elbow. “It’s not that simple.”

She shrugs and clearly disagrees. “Maybe not for you, but I’d have to give him a pass. I mean, that room, those flowers. Gah!” she screams. “And to top it all off, I was dead on with it being Parker. She set him up. He told you that himself,” she