“Seriously, Payson?” Zayd spits, leaning in and putting his forearms on the table. He didn’t seem to care about folding, but he looks pissed now. “I brought her here tonight. She’s mine. You know the rules.”
“I’m what?” I ask, and Zack stiffens up beside me. “You don’t even like me.”
“When an Idol brings a date to a party, they’re off-limits. Everyone knows that, even the fucking Plebs. Do you like being in the Circle, Andrew? Or do you want to join the working class?” Zayd flicks one of his lip rings with his tongue, his inked fingers tightening on the edge of the table.
“I’m sorry, man, Jesus.” Andrew runs his hand over his shiny chestnut hair, and shoots me an apologetic look. “Sorry, Marnye.”
“Let’s go another round,” Tristan says, looking directly at me. When I lift my eyes and find his silver gaze on me, I feel weighted down, like I couldn’t stand if I tried. My kneels feel weak, and I’m glad I’m sitting down already.
“What about Ebony?” Zayd asks, switching from angry to excited in a split-second. He’s got a huge grin on his face. “If you cancel with her, kiss that ass goodbye. She’ll never leave Jalen.”
“Her fucking loss.” Tristan keeps his attention on me. “You win again, and I’ll offer this: the rest of the year, no shit from the Bluebloods.” My eyes widen.
“That’s a pretty big boon,” Creed drawls, leaning forward and putting his elbow on the edge of the table. He puts his chin in his hand, eyes half-lidded and devoid of any interest whatsoever. It must be tough to feign disinterest all the time. I imagine all my emotions clogging up and getting stuck inside with not outlet, and almost feel momentarily sorry for Creed. “Are you sure you want to offer that up? Where would you get your kicks for the rest of the year?”
“The Bluebloods are gonna be mad enough about the freebie month. Harper will lose her shit over this.” Zayd sits back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “Becky, too. They won’t like it.”
“Assuming her winning streak holds,” Tristan continues, still staring at me.
“You should cut and run while you have the chance,” Zack tells me, standing up from the table. His dark gaze captures my attention, and his fingers hover over my shoulder for a moment before he pulls them away. “I’m not a part of the Burberry Bluebloods, so I don’t give a shit about their rules. Let me take you home.”
“If you stay and play, I’ll add another five grand into that account of yours.” Tristan sets the stack of cards down, and pulls out his phone. He shoots off a text and then sets it screen side down on the table. “What do you say? Five grand for nothing. I bet that sounds like a lot to someone like you.”
“It is a lot,” I correct, feeling anger overtake me again. When I got bullied in junior high, it made me sad. All I did was cry. These guys just piss me off. “But if you want to pay me five-k to get your ass kicked again then fine.”
“This is a terrible fucking idea,” Zack growls. “They might be smiling now, but these guys are monsters.” He tosses a hand out to indicate the three Idol boys on the far side of the table.
“We’re the monsters? Didn’t you get some girl killed last year as part of a bet?” Tristan looks up at Zack and smiles. “You lost a race against me in your grandpa’s fancy dragster, and—”
“Shut your mouth, Vanderbilt, or I’ll shut it for you.” Zack takes a step forward, and Tristan rises to his feet. The two of them look like they’re about to fall to blows when I stand up, too. Fortunately—or maybe unfortunately considering the circumstances—they’re interrupted by a large group emerging from the crowd.
Abigail Fanning and Valentina Pitt are at the front of the posse, but I can see Ebony red-faced and flushed behind them, Jalen Donner clinging to her hand. He doesn’t seem to realize that his date was all set up to sleep with Tristan tonight.
“We didn’t say anything last night,” Abigail starts, her green eyes sliding over to me, “but now I feel like we need to. Why is she here, Tristan?”
“She’s here because I asked her to be,” he says, voice smooth and dark. He turns away from Zack to look at the small cluster of Bluebloods behind him. I’ve never seen such a large grouping of the Inner Circle in one place before. It’s intimidating, to say the least.
“Well, Harper didn’t know about it, and she’s pissed.” Abigail pops a hip out, puts her fist on it, and then swings a mane of aubrn hair over her shoulder. She’s a really good hair-tosser. My stomach knots up, and I feel a bead of sweat work its way down my spine. Zack might back me up if a confrontation were to ensue. Andrew … I have no idea. But I’m suddenly nervous, like a sheep who’s just realized she’s playing poker in a den of wolves. “She doesn’t want her here.”
