funny, humor bouncing in his eyes. Paulie, on the other hand, couldn’t stop staring at me. It was ridiculous.
Dre dropped in a chair across from me. His scent announced him. Maybe if I liked him, I’d find the smell of his cologne okay—Samantha would find it appealing. But he wasn’t the best human, so I was annoyed.
“Is it true, McNabb?” His smooth delivery disgusted me. “Is your born day tomorrow, shortie?”
My eyes scanned the small group. “And?”
I really wanted to know who told them, but was still trying to control my heavy breathing and not draw attention to my shaking hands.
“And we will be celebrating you.” Dre smacked the table. “Tomorrow. Be ready.”
“I—you can’t…” My words were lodged in my throat.
“Your birthday’s tomorrow, Tori?” ShawnNicole’s face opened too wide, happy about the stupid news. “Let’s do the cut for your birthday!”
“I—” I stuttered again.
Andrea flipped her thick box braids, mutedly recording everything with her eyes. “What’s that rich boyfriend you have got planned?”
My mouth opened, but this time nothing came out. They were all around, encroaching upon me like hyenas. These were Ashton and Aivery’s friends, humans who hated me but were now tolerating me because Ashton waved his very powerful wand. And now, members of the football and basketball team were demanding to celebrate my birthday—that I was now pretty sure Ashton told them about. And the cool, background singer girls were trying to chop off my hair and force my fake boyfriend down my throat. And I still hadn’t figured out how Ashton knew.
Do I talk in my sleep?
“Didn’t you tell me your boyfriend was taking you away overnight?” When did Ashton step out amongst the wolves?
He was throwing me a bone, and before I could think it through I found myself nodding. “Yup.” Then I tried to offer a regretful smile to Al and Dre.” “Sorry.”
“Nah,” Al drawled. “That don’t put no damper on our plans.”
“We can still take you out, then you can slip out with ya man,” Dre made it sound so sensible.
“Oooooh,” Andrea’s hands drew up to her face. “Where are you guys going?’
Ignoring her, my attention went back to Al. “What do you have in mind? What time?”
Al’s smile made him a bearable human. “Ebonies.”
“A strip club?” ShawnNicole gasped.
Oh my—
Andrea squealed, “Ilk! I would never!”
“You’re not invited,” Dre provided that shade so coolly before turning back to me. “I think if we slide in around eleven-thirty, you can spend some time with the crew, then be “ready” for your boyfriend.” He used finger quotations.
The guys snickered. I guess that was the joke. They were taking the tomboy to a strip club. There was no way in hell these guys were going to see male strippers, which meant they were taking me to see naked women dance.
My head flew to Ashton. His amused eyes slanted even more. It was him. He was doing this—orchestrating again. He thought it would be interesting. But unlike his underlings here, Ashton Spencer knew I wasn’t into girls.
Or does he?
Swallowing, I licked my lips. “Okay. I’ll only stay an hour then have my boyfriend send a car for me. BBM me the address, so I can make it happen.”
My appetite was officially killed, and so was my time. I had to go, so I grabbed my tray and left the table to toss the wasted food.
“I’m sure you’ll dress appropriately because of your ‘boyfriend’ and all afterwards!” Al snickered behind me and his boys joined in. “Heels and lipstick, McNabb!”
On the way to the trash, I passed Ashton. His scent appealed to me. Did funny things between my legs.
“And you’re not fuckin’ cutting your hair,” he whispered loud enough for only me to hear.
A shiver shot down my spine, and I bit my lips together and tried frowning to play it off.
I thought the vibrating sound in my bed was from my dream. Then when my eyes strained open and I could see the big neon green numbers on my clock on the nightstand, I felt it near my shoulder. It was my Blackberry going off.
Trying to stop the sound before it woke Samantha next, I answered, whispering, “It’s twelve fifty-three in the morning.
“Tell me something I’m less familiar with?”
That confused me. “Like what?”
“Like your birthday. But now that I got that info from someone else, tell me at exactly what time were you born—or at least when you were going to tell me about your birthday.”
The fucking nerve. “I’m not telling you shit after you set me up