Touched By The Devil - Angel Lawson Page 0,118

gleeful clap. “You need a necklace—oh, a choker! And some earrings!”

Resigned to being a sentient mannequin, I let Vandy deck me out in some of her jewelry, making sure she isn’t giving me anything even remotely valuable.

“I got this as a free gift with another purchase, it’s literally nothing,”

I stay painfully still as I hold my hair up, letting her secure the necklace. The thing about Sebastian being a stubborn bastard is that I’m beginning to realize he may be right. Every time he touches me, it’s a little less awful. It’s not always a big thing. Usually, they’re little grazes, light touches. In Dr. Ross’s class, he almost always spends her lectures playing with my hair, running his fingers through it, winding it around a wrist, sweeping it back off my neck. Sometimes, it’s enough to make me shiver at the feel of it, sparks flying across my nerves like pyrotechnics.

“Thanks,” I say, fiddling with the cord. I take a moment to come to terms with the fact that a pair of dog tags doesn’t exactly go with the ensemble. With a tight inhale, I lift them over my head, feeling uncomfortable as I tuck them into my bag.

Vandy waves off my gratitude. “I should be thanking you. We all should. Bass has really been different since you came along. Less frantic and reckless all the time.”

I feel doubtful about that, but maybe his friends don’t realize just how much Sebastian trying to get with me was also reckless, in its own way. “He still races and stuff,” I argue.

She gives me a look. “Well, yeah. Bass is gonna Bass. But he’s also not coming back to school every weekend with a split lip and two black eyes. Or impulse buying a bunch of useless crap. Or getting trashed every Monday night with Carlton and his buddies. Or going out of his way to get shoved in the hall. I mean,” her expression turns thoughtful as she peeks out her curtains at the driveway below. “Some of that is the concussion. He really is trying to be better, so he can get back to playing. But there’s a difference between the way he was white-knuckling it before and how he’s acting now. He actually seems… settled. Happy.”

“That might not have anything to do with me,” I insist, even though a part of me hopes I’m wrong. I want to be the one to make him better, the way he makes me better. The way he can touch me and wait for it to be bearable so I can actually enjoy it. The way I was able to let Vandy’s fingertips brush my neck before and not have a complete meltdown about it.

She just shakes her head. “Trust me, it does. You’re dating now, right? Like for real together?”

I feel myself flush at my stuttered confession, “Uh, yeah, we’re… together. Whatever that means around here.”

Vandy laughs. “Why? What does it mean where you come from?”

“A lot of sex, fighting, and statistically, an unplanned pregnancy?”

She pulls a face. “Well, for the record, anyone can get condoms at the health counselor’s office. Preston’s never been conservative where sex-ed is concerned. But usually, dating at Preston involves a lot of secrecy, because our parents are the biggest drama llamas of all. At least you and Bass don’t have to worry about that.”

Great, something else to worry about. “Yeah, I’m sure his rich parents will be thrilled to learn he’s dating Cliff trash.”

“Hey,” she says, frowning. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. And I’ve never known the Wilcoxes to interfere in their kids’ lives like that. They’re pretty hands-off.”

“That’s good to know.” The last thing I need is some ornery rich parent all up on my shit about their precious son. “So, any other tips for this dinner tonight?” I ask, nerves flaring up again.

She flaps a hand. “No, you’ll be fine. But word to the wise? Take your change of clothes with you, just in case.” She gives me a wink.

“Okay,” I say slowly, gathering my things. Just in case. Whatever that means. “I should probably go wait for him outside. The muffler on that Shelby is so loud we’ll be able to hear it two blocks away.”

When we get on the porch, the sound of a ball bouncing on the driveway greets us. Emory and Reyn are running around the driveway’s basketball court playing one-on-one. Emory glances over his shoulder at us, pausing for a double take when he sees me dressed

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