out, Sugar’s leaning against the Shelby, her dark hair showing tints of red in afternoon sunlight. Fuck, the sight of her against my car, staring into the distance as the wind blows her hair around, is a better view than anything else in this town.
I open the door for her, taking the opportunity to catch a whiff of her hair, and then slide into the driver’s seat. I crank the engine and look over at her, grinning to myself.
“What?” she asks, shifting in her seat.
I shrug. “I just like seeing you over there.”
I cut off the main road and head over the bridge that leads across the lake. There’s a quiet spot that overlooks the dam and I slow the car, parking under a large oak tree.
We get out and walk around to the front. I watch her take it in, feeling electrified when her mouth curls into a surprised grin. There’s a wide view of the lake out here. In the golden glow of the sunset, it looks like a nice summer day, but it’s January and the trees are bare. There’s a chill in the air and I see her shiver, but it’s not exactly the kind I’d been hoping for.
I take off my jacket and offer it to her. “What do you think?”
“It’s fucking killer,” she says, blinking down at my jacket. After a moment of hesitation, she reluctantly accepts it, draping it around her shoulders. “I wish I had my camera.”
“We can come out again sometime,” I assure.
“None of the other people in the club have this view of the campus. Is that the bell tower?”
“Yep.” The top of the tower peeks out of the trees. “The Devil’s Tower. Or the Stairway to Hell. It has a few names.”
“Georgia said not to go up there with anyone unless I wanted to. Something about a secret society. Any idea what that’s about?”
I send her a smirk. “I could tell you, but you know how secret societies work. I’d have to sacrifice you after, probably in some dumb and unnecessarily sexual ritual with really bad Latin, swearing fealty to Satan, yadda yadda.”
Sugar would make a kick-ass Devil. She already fits in with all the playthings. She’s got balls of steel and is sharp as a tack. She has secrets. She has courage. But there’s no way that’s going to happen with only a semester left. The idea of taking her up in that tower and branding her with the mark is definitely appealing.
She leans back against the hood of the Shelby, something I would have thrown a goddamn fit about two days ago. Now, Jasmine is so battered and bruised that it seems stupid to care. “I watch Dateline, you know. That’s not really the kind of joke you want to make when you’ve got me alone in a deserted place.”
“It’s not as sinister as they like to make it seem.” Resting against the car beside her, I explain, “The way it works is that the Devils take girls up the stairway and mark them in the tower.”
“Mark them?” she asks, head tilting curiously. “How?”
“Well, if they’re really dating or serious it’d be something visible, like a hickey.” I push back her hair and press a slow kiss to the skin under her ear. I don’t mark her, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to. “Or it may go further with a hook-up. Blow jobs, hand-jobs, even full-on fucking.”
Her face screws up. “While people are right outside?”
I laugh. “The thrill of possibly getting caught is part of the fun. Or so I’m told,” I add quickly. “The Devils were officially disbanded last year—mostly because of my brother—but traditions die hard at Preston. Someone may be up there getting marked right now.”
She turns to hold my gaze. “Have you ever been up there?”
That is not a conversation I want to have right now—if ever—but getting Sugar’s trust is important and I don’t want to lie. “On a dare. Last year.”
I wait for her to ask who I was with, but she doesn’t. She just nods, seeming unsurprised. “We have a place like that back home, too. Well, kind of.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s called Cliff Cave. Really original, right?” Rolling her eyes, she explains, “It’s the place to hook up. It’s kind of a rite of passage to lose your virginity up there, but god knows why. It’s cold and dark and wet, and smells like a mossy armpit. I could have come up with a million better places