Page 37 of Mistaken Prejudice

“I like this one.” He handed me a navy shirt. “It makes your eyes look nice.”

“How about you pick one for yourself?” I offered as I put on the shirt he gave me and checked myself in the mirror. “Actually”—I turned to study him one last time—“why are you dressed like this in the first place?” I pointed toward him and the tiny, little tight red trunks that left nothing to the imagination. Yeah, those are definitely too short.

“’Cause Elliot and I tanned by the pool.”

Of course they did.

My eyes rolled by themselves, and I gave him a slight push that made us face each other. Up close, the bruises and wounds from last night were properly displayed on his handsome face. He had a nasty cut on his bottom lip and swelling on his right cheekbone. His golden blond hair was braided in a French braid, probably done by Papa, and his bright eyes looked tired, with deep dark circles underneath them that indicated he hadn’t slept in the past twenty-four hours, if not more. I sighed. “What’s going on with you? Since school started, all you’ve been up to is getting into fights.”

He snarled before he walked out of the closet and back to my room, leaving me behind.

“The guy fucked Chloe. What did you expect me to do?” he grumbled.

“I thought you didn’t care about her,” I mentioned while putting on a silver watch.

“I don’t, but it’s the principle that matters.”

I tilted my head as I tried to follow his point. “And the principle being…?”

“They need to stay away from my things.”

I gasped. “Your things? You just admitted to not caring about her. Also, don’t refer to people as objects, you asshole.”

On my way to the door, I stopped in front of him and pressed my finger to his chest. “And speaking of which, I didn’t like the way you treated Felix last night.”

His brows drew together. “Who?”

“Felix.” I poked my finger in his chest. “Felix Anderson, from my biology class.”

He twisted his lips. “You need to be more specific than that for me to understand who you’re talking about.”

I rolled my eyes. “Felix, the guy the twins forced to make a keg stand.”

He let out a long “Ohhhh” as if he just connected the name with the face. “You mean Charlie.”

“You’re a douche.” I moved to push past him, but Shay-Lee grabbed my hand, keeping me still. As I tried to pull back, he quickly palmed my arm and pulled me closer. The corner of his mouth lifted, and he gave me a mischievous look. My brows snapped together, and my jaw tightened. He knew I was angry with him; therefore, he quickly apologized.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” With how sincere his voice sounded, one would think he actually meant it, but his smile slipped through the act.

I turned the other way, so I wouldn’t need to face him, but he didn’t let go.

“C’mon, Miley, I mean it.” His neediness made me a little weak, so I looked back at him, eyebrow raised and lips pursed.

“When you treat people this way, I wonder why we’re even friends.”

“Because I’m awesome, and you love me.” He gripped my hand harder, but I pushed him away.

“I’m being serious right now. So don’t give me that look.” I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to look angry.

“What look?” he asked with a lopsided grin, pretending to be clueless.

“The ‘Please forgive me, Miley’ look you’ve had since we were kids. It won’t work,” I explained with a harsh voice.

“Fine, I won’t. I swear.”

My brows knitted, and I narrowed my eyes at him before I relaxed my face and nodded. “Okay then.”

His whole face lit up, and he wrapped his arm around me. “Good, so let’s go down for breakfast. I’m starving.”