Page 28 of Blood Oath
Bingo.
This strategy should have been obvious from the beginning. Maybe I can sink this ship from the inside. They’re already on thin ice with each other. Let’s see what jealousy can do for me.
“Actually, I would like to get to know the professor better. He’s exactly my type.”
Three sets of eyes swing to me.
“Frost?” Baelfire scowls. “You’re twisting my tail. There’s no way that pampered icicle is your type. How would you even know when you haven’t said a word to him? He’s the biggest dickhead of all of us.”
“A gorgeous dickhead,” I muse. “He used to be a model, right?”
Baelfire scowls, but Crypt snorts. I can’t tell what he thinks is more amusing, what I said or this whole situation. Whatever his thoughts on it, he ripples and disappears once again, and after a second, I don’t sense him nearby anymore.
Silas looks skeptical. I’m ready to get this jealousy show on the road, so I leave the table and cross the room. It’s true what Baelfire said—I haven’t spoken to Professor Frost outside of that initial rejection. He’s been the only one to leave me alone like I asked, which has been a relief.
But for the sake of turning them all against each other? I couldn’t have asked for a better scenario than cozying up to a man of ice who is indifferent to my existence.
9
MAVEN
As soon as Professor Frost sees me approaching his table, he stands. I’m not sure what to make of that. Either he’s being overly respectful in an old-fashioned manner, even though he can’t be more than five years older than I am, or he’s about to run.
I’d prefer the latter.
But when I’m close enough, he turns and walks to the nearest serving area without a word. And since I can feel the weight of Baelfire’s and Silas’s stares on my back, I pretend this is exactly what I expected as I follow the ice elemental. I wait beside him as he politely tells the girl behind the counter what to put on the plate. She keeps getting distracted and messing up the order because she’s gawking at him so hard.
Finally, Professor Frost clears his throat. “Need something, Oakley?”
“I have a proposal for you.”
That clearly isn’t what he expected, and he turns to raise a brow. He does pull off the frigid, aloof asshole look. He looks like a deep winter morning personified. “I can’t say I’m interested.”
Thank the gods. He won’t make this complicated.
“I’m not interested in you either, Professor Frost,” I reassure him.
His expression ices over as he lifts one shoulder in a jerky motion. “Good. I’m glad that’s been so clearly established.”
The legacy behind the counter overheard, and now she’s openly glaring at me. “Hey. Are you going to order something? If not, get lost. No one wants a snobby bitch who doesn’t appreciate what she has holding back the line.”
The professor’s attention returns to her as he pays for the food, but I’m distracted by my breath coming in plumes in front of my face out of nowhere. Did someone open a window?
He leads me to a separate, smaller table, sitting and scooting the tray toward me. “So. Your proposal?”
I sit, glancing at the tray full of steaming sauce, meat, and cheese with a side of toasted bread. It must be a dish I’m unfamiliar with. That happens a lot since I grew up eating the same bland foods every day.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“I already ate.”
“Then why get all this food?”
“Because you didn’t eat,” he says like I’m the slowest person alive.
I haven’t eaten all day, but I’m still not accepting anything from them, so I scoot the tray to the middle of the table and fold my gloved hands in my lap. “I want to pretend we have a thing for each other.”
He blinks rapidly before understanding crosses his features. “You want to make them jealous.”
