Cruel Prince Page 9
“You’re mean to Liam.”
Amusement lights up his features. “Don’t tell me you have the hots for the sss-stutterer.”
I don’t, but as usual, Tommy is missing the point. “I’d rather spend a lifetime in a closet with him than five more seconds stuck here with you.” I bare my teeth. “Now get out of my way.”
His eyes narrow as he steps aside and I maneuver past him.
“Dylan, wait,” he huffs as I head for the exit. “I won’t make fun of History anymore.”
History is the nickname Tommy coined for Jace’s brother. He tells everyone it’s because history always repeats itself…just like Liam does.
“Stop calling him that,” I hiss.
“Okay.”
I pause, unsure if I heard him correctly. “Really?”
“If that’s what it will take for you to be cool with me.” He gives me a crooked smile. “I’ll even apologize.”
I’m utterly dumbfounded. “You’re going to apologize to Liam?”
A weird feeling crawls up my gut when he nods. Tommy doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy to do something decent without wanting something in return.
“Wh—”
“Like I said before.” He moves uncomfortably close. “If you’re nice to me…I’ll be nice to him. Got it?”
I swallow hard. The subtext is loud and clear—I just don’t understand why. I’ve spent most of my life avoiding him rather than engaging with him.
“What’s your deal, Tommy? Why do you want to be friends with me so bad?”
His gaze drops to my lips. “Has he ever kissed you?”
Only in my dreams.
My cheeks grow hot and I shove him away. “That’s none of your business.”
Tommy laughs as he walks to the door. “See you around.”
“Tommy DaSilva told me he’s going to apologize to Liam.”
I’ve been at Jace’s house for the better part of an hour now, mulling over when I should bring up my after-school encounter with his rival.
Me losing the stupid zombie battle game yet again seems like a good time.
Jace’s fingers freeze on the controller briefly before he presses pause. “When did you talk to Tommy?”
“Today…” I swallow hard. “After school.”
I’m not Jace’s pet like Tommy implied…but there’s no denying the intrinsic sense of loyalty I have to him. However, that loyalty goes both ways. Jace is always there for me whenever I need him.
“Well, after band practice,” I clarify.
I’m not sure what to make of his expression. We’re opposites that way. While I’m an open book—Jace wears a mask made of steel.
It matches the force field surrounding him.
The one I still can’t penetrate, even though we’ve been thick as thieves for over two years now.
His expression remains neutral, but the suspicion is practically coming off him in waves. “Tommy isn’t in band.”
Seeing as I have nothing to hide, I have no problem telling him the truth. But I need to tread carefully since I don’t want to make their ongoing feud worse.
“I know. I stayed after to clean up, and he ended up joining me in the closet.”
Those dark eyes practically burn right through me. “So, you two made plans to hang out alone in a closet together?”
It feels like a stone is trapped inside my throat. “No. It wasn’t like that. I’m not…we didn’t make plans to hang out. I don’t like Tommy.”
How could I when Jace holds my heart in the palm of his hand?
“Then why were you two alone in a closet…talking about my brother?”
Oh, God. I know he’s protective of his siblings, but Jace is acting like I committed treachery.
“Look, whatever you’re thinking, stop. I was organizing music stands in the closet by myself when Tommy approached me. I tried to leave, but he was standing in front of the door—”
“What?” The veins in his forearms bulge as his hands ball into fists. “He trap—”
“No. Can you let me finish?”
As much as I enjoy the protective side of Jace, I don’t want him to go after Tommy. The jerk finally agreed to stop making fun of Liam. Plus Jace has already been suspended once this year for beating Tommy to a bloody pulp.
That impermeable mask he wears slips into place again as he lays the controller on the floor beside him. “Go ahead.”
I pick at a piece of lint on my jeans. “Tommy wanted to know why I was mean to him, and I told him it was because he made fun of Liam all the time and I didn’t like it.” I look up at Jace. “When I started to leave, he said he’d be nicer to Liam. He even offered to apologize.”
His jaw works. “That doesn’t sound like Tommy.”
“I know. I thought the same thing. But when I asked him about his sudden change of heart, he said he wanted us to be cool.” I shrug. “I think he’s tired of being a jerk all the time and needs a friend.”
I’m not brave enough to mention the part about him wanting to know if Jace ever kissed me.
Jace snorts. “No. He’s messing with you.”
“Messing with me how?”
Annoyance sweeps over his features. “By making you think he’s into you.” He plucks the remote off the floor. “He knows we’re friends. He’s just pretending to like you so he can try to steal you away and get a rise out of me. Ignore him if he tries to talk to you again. I’ll set him straight tomorrow.”
A strange feeling brews in the pit of my stomach. It’s not that Jace isn’t right. Tommy is most likely using me.
But the dismissive way he’s implying that Tommy couldn’t seriously like me ...
It’s as if the notion of anyone having feelings for me was utterly ridiculous.
“Why aren’t you playing?” Jace questions after a few minutes go by.
“What if he’s not?” I whisper. “What if Tommy really does like me?”
Jace rolls his eyes. “He doesn’t, trust me. It’s not possible.”
Ouch. The sinking feeling in my stomach travels upward until it wraps around my heart.
I have to leave…before I make an even bigger ass of myself.
When I became a teenager, my aunt Crystal warned me the next few years would be some of the best and worst of my life.
When I asked her why, she told me it was the time most girls had their first crushes, first kisses, and first loves…followed by their first heartbreak.
I, however, thought I was safe, because the person I gave my heart to…was my best friend.
And best friends aren’t allowed to break your heart.
It’s against the rules.
“Whoa. Where are you going?” Jace asks when I stand up. “We finally made it to the next level of Zombie Warfare. We’re close to the apocalypse.”
The irony. I’m pretty sure this is it.
“Is it really so hard to believe someone might be interested in me?” The question erupts out of my vocal cords like word vomit.
He grips the back of his neck as he stands, looking about as uncomfortable as I feel. Great.