Page 9 of Sincerely, Butterfly

That doesn’t stop me from living my own little fantasy. And that little hint of cigarette smoke mixed withhiscologne will be the fuel for the newest chapter of the delusional world I’m living in.

CHAPTER

TWO

NOLA

Pushingthe front doors of the school open, I head straight for my bright teal Jeep. It stands out amongst the fancy red, black, and white sports cars and SUVs that most students drive.

I’m not a big car fanatic. I don’t care what I drive as long as it gets me around. But my dad got me this Jeep for my sixteenth birthday, and I love it. It’s pretty and runs great. That's all I care about.

When I see who’s parked next to me, my eyes widen, locked on the two guys leaning against the black Bugatti. I nearly trip over my own feet, stumbling to a stop.

“Fuck,” I hiss, panic rising within me at the thought that they might see me. Looking around for a place to hide, I dart behind the nearest car.What the hell are Jasper and Sylas doing here, too?

If all three of them are here, then there's got to be a good reason. What could they possibly want with Mr. Robinson?

Honestly, it could be about anything. He might just be a teacher to me, but knowing how this school works, he could be working for the Brotherhood. The likelihood of that is actually quite high.

The Brotherhood of Blood and Death is a not-so-secret society that runs New Orleans, led by the founding families.

To the outside world, they’re just your typical CEO bigwigs, but I know more than I should. Years of blending in with the background, listening in on conversations that were not meant to be heard by the ears of a little girl, let me know they’re anything but.

Slowly, I rise, peeking over the hood of the car to get a better look at them.

Sylas is leaning against the car, hands in the pockets of his ripped black jeans. Fuck, he looks so damn sexy today. He’s wearing a black leather jacket and nothing else under it, which shows off the tattoos covering his chest and stomach. They go all the way up, right up to the top of his neck. His white hair is shaved at the sides, longer on top, with parts of it hanging over his forehead. He flicks it back,giving Jasper a cocky smirk after saying something that’s probably a tease.

Damn it, I can’t make out what they’re saying. Where’s Skittles when you need him?

Jasper speaks, and while I might not be able to make out the words, the deep rumbling of his voice is just audible enough to affect me and sends a shiver of pleasure through me. It’s rare to have the privilege of hearing him speak. He only talks when he has something important to say.

He’s the leader of their little group, but Sylas and Wesley are happy to do the talking for him.

He’s the silent observer type. He’s the one with eyes that gaze right into your soul, which is both terrifying and arousing at the same time. It’s like he knows what you're thinking without you even needing to say a word.

At first, I thought Jasper was leaning against my Jeep, but when he straightens, I notice the black motorbike behind him and the helmet that’s tucked under his left arm.

He turns around, facing my Jeep, dark brown eyes assessing it before he looks up, gaze sweeping over the parking lot like he’s looking for someone. Is he looking for me? Quickly, I duck down.

Shit.Whywould he be looking for me?

Carefully, I shuffle around the car and to the next, checking to make sure I’m not seen before continuing until I make it to a car parked a few spots down from the guys. I want to hear what they’re talking about.

I’m nosy as hell, and I like to know everything about them. It’s kind of my thing. A very unhealthy thing, but it’s what I do. Especially when it comes to these three.

I’m kind of… sort of… a little obsessed with them.That's putting it mildly, Nola.

“What the fuck is taking him so long?” Jasper's husky voice growls, sending prickles of delight dancing across my skin.

“I swear to god, I’m going to kill that man if he puts his fucking hands on her,” Sylas sneers. His dangerous threat has liquid heat pooling low in my stomach, ramping up the arousal Wesley created only moments ago.

It’s been too long since I’ve been this close to them in real life. There’s only so much I can take watching them through the lens of my camera or from the video feed Skittles collects for me.

“Doesn’t matter if he touches her or not, he’s dead anyway,” Jasper mutters.

My head slowly peeks up, needing to get a good look at them. When I lay eyes on Jasper, I have to bite my lip not to moan.

This man… thisfuckingman, is one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen. Though he’s Korean American, his features lean toward his father’s Korean heritage with wavy ebony hair and deep brown eyes.