Page 12 of Wicked Titan

“You’d be correct again.” I place my hand in his, squeezing as I try to hold on to something steady, even if it’s a sturdy handshake from a stranger. “Quinn.”

He doesn’t release my hand but instead leans forward, bringing my hand to his lips and softly feathers a kiss across my knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Quinn.” Still hanging onto my hand, he lowers it but doesn’t release it.

I’m not sure if it’s the fact that he’s being nice or the fact that he just kissed my hand but I’m stunned into silence. Is this guy for real?

“I see you don’t mind him touching you,” Asher says from behind me, jerking me back to reality.

I don’t turn around, but I pull my hand from Grant’s, grabbing a pamphlet from the table simply to give me something to do. Grant looks just as irritated as I feel at the arrival of Asher, but just in case, I make a point to say, “If dickhead joins, I’m out.”

A tight smile forms on Grant’s face though he’s glaring at Asher. “Good thing all the spots are filled.”

The enrollment form had only a few signatures, so I’m glad to know I’ve finally found someone else who shares my hatred of Asher Hastings.

Asher steps to the table, snarling at Grant, “Don’t you have somewhere else to be, Bambi?”

Damn. From the looks flying between these two, the feeling is mutual.

“Fuck off, Hastings.”

I definitely picked the right club, but I don’t care to watch the showdown of who can piss the furthest.

“On that note …” I mumble before turning to make my escape.

“Hey, Quinn,” Grant calls. A playful smile adorns his face as he holds a pamphlet in my direction. “Take this one. It has my phone number in it. Call anytime.”

I shouldn’t entertain it but the look of hatred on Asher’s face makes me want to. Giving Grant my sweetest smile, I grab it from his hand. “Thanks, Grant. Talk to you later.”

Not sparing a look in Asher’s direction, I walk away. Finding one of his buttons gives me way more pleasure than it should.

9

Stepping out of the shower, I grab a gray towel embellished with a yellow B on it. Every bathroom in this house has a different theme with color-coded décor but each has the same B proudly displayed on the towels. On each and every towel, like everyone needed a reminder they were in the Bennett mansion. The only perk is this yellow-tulip-themed bathroom is connected to my bedroom so I don’t have to risk seeing anyone.

I towel dry my hair, thankful to finally rinse the lake water and the maddeningly lingering scent of Asher off me. It seems crazy but I swear his scent remained on me long after I was able to escape his presence.

Pulling on a pair of cotton pajama shorts and a tank top, I flop across the bed, sinking into the thick comforter to scroll through my phone. Finding the latest message from Haley, I decide to call instead of responding in text. I sit up, scooting to the edge of the bed as the phone rings. I’m about to end the call when she answers.

“Hi,” I say, unable to find the words to explain why I’ve avoided my best friend since I’ve left her house.

“Oh my gosh, Quinn! Is it really you?!” Excitement rings in her voice as background voices fade away. Of course she’s hanging out with our friends. It’s the first day of school, so they are fulfilling the tradition we started freshman year to meet at the local pizza parlor to compare notes and complain about all the classes we didn’t get together. Such insignificant complaints now but they seemed like the end of the world last year.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just been a little out of it.”

“I get it … I just miss you.”

My eyes shut as a tear falls down my cheek, finally free to find its release with no one around to witness it. “I miss you too.”

Haley is oblivious to my lack of conversation while she goes on and on about her first day as a senior at Edgewood High. The first day of school that I should’ve had alongside her.

“Mason asked if I’d talked to you. He seemed worried too.”

“I know. It’s just so hard. And I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. We are still here for you, Quinn. Even if you are three hours away.” She pauses before asking, “Any news about coming back here soon? My mom said you can stay here if you want. You turn eighteen in a few days, then you will be free to leave Momzilla’s fortress, right?”

“Yes, I have a few details to work out, but I’m thinking it might be for the best. Are you sure your mom wouldn’t mind?” Nathan’s deal pops into mind. The thought of living next door to my childhood home while someone else moves in slices through my heart, but can I really hold out for the entire school year?

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