Stuck With The Four Hotties

“How can you say that after you’ve been with Marnye? Could you fuck another girl right now? Could you?” Miranda hits him, but Zayd just puts his hands up like a shield and lets her do it. “I knew I should’ve made her my girlfriend and kicked all the rest of you into the depths of hell. I knew it. You’re monsters, you’re all monsters.”Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

“I just want to see her live through graduation,” Zayd whispers as the door opens, and I race over to Tristan’s apartment, slamming my fists on the door.

I’m fully aware it’s been weeks since that day in the hallway, that the deed might already be done.

But … it feels urgent somehow.

After several minutes of pounding, the door finally opens and there he is, standing there in his full black uniform and glaring down at me with gray eyes.

“What is it now, Working Girl? I’m busy.” I go to push past him, and he stops me by slamming his palm into the doorjamb. That’s when I know it’s bad, that he’s got something to hide. “Get out of here, Marnye.” Tristan looks up to see Zayd standing there and hisses under his breath. “You were supposed to keep her away from here today. Are you too stupid for even that simple of a task?”

I duck low and look past Tristan, only to see Lizzie standing there in a blue bathrobe.

No. No, I’m too late.

I shove Tristan out of the way and storm into the apartment, moving up to Lizzie and seriously considering slapping her in her stupid surprised face. No violence, Marnye. No violence.

“I said no bullying at my school, and what you did to me, that was an act of bullying.”

“You deserved to know-”

“Bullshit!” I scream, and she cringes. She really is weak, after all, Lizzie Walton is. “Bullshit.”

“Marnye, get out of here and go on a date with Zayd or something,” Tristan says, coming to pause beside me. I can’t look at him. I can’t. I just can’t.

“You told me about the bet, so that’d you have leverage against Tristan. Just admit it. You can’t stand that you lost.” Lizzie looks away and closes her amber eyes. Her hair looks tousled, and she seems to be naked under the robe. Did I come too late? Is it already over?

“Marnye, we should go,” Zayd says, but I ignore him, too.

“Did you … already sleep together?” Miranda asks, pointing between Tristan and Lizzie. She sounds almost too upset about it. Like I get her being on my side, but there’s something more to it. “Did you guys just finish fucking?”

“It’s for the best, Marnye,” Tristan says, but his face is so blank. I can see it even with that cruel mask of his in place. He’s shutting down.

“Did. You. Fuck. Her?” I whisper, hating that he won’t answer me. Why won’t he fucking answer me?

Windsor, Zack, and Creed burst in the door a moment later, and Tristan swears under his breath, turning away and running his fingers through his dark hair.

“Bloody hell,” Wind murmurs when he sees me, and my whole body tightens up. He knew. Zayd knew. They all knew. They did a nice job hiding it from me, too.

“Tristan, look at me,” I say, but when he does, his expression is written in anger.

“I fucked Lizzie,” he says, voice cold.

“You’re lying,” I say, and then louder. “You’re lying.”

“I wanted to do it, too. You think I’d ever be happy with a charity case like you?”

Wow.

He’s really putting it on hard, this bullshit act. But he forgets that I saw right through him in the bathroom, and even more so when we fell asleep in each other’s arms that night.

I’m not buying it.

I walk up to him and put my hands on his chest.

“You think lying to protect me will work? It won’t. I don’t want your lies as a shield against the bad things. I only want you.” I lean up on my tiptoes and kiss his mouth hard. I kiss him as possessively as any of the other boys have ever kissed me. When Tristan starts to shake and his hands come up to touch my arms of their own accord, I know I’ve caught him red-handed. I pull back slightly and look him in the eyes. “Did you fuck her?” I repeat.

Tristan stares at me, emotions warring in his gray eyes.

“Not yet,” he whispers finally, and I feel this huge surge of relief as I throw my arms around his neck.

I know then an undeniable truth: I will not be able to give up Tristan Vanderbilt at the end of the year.

I don’t know exactly what that means overall, only that I can’t not have him.

I can’t.

“But I have to, Marnye. I’ll do anything to keep you safe. Even stick my dick in some pathetic waste of life who can’t take a hint. I’m done with you, Lizzie. Done. I was done with you the first moment I laid eyes on Marnye.”

“Stop,” I whisper, putting my hand over his lips-lips that belong, undeniably, to me-and turning to glance over my shoulder. Lizzie is sobbing now, sinking to the floor in her robe and then just sitting there, all alone while the rest of us look on.

I feel sorry for her in that moment, I really, really do.

Miranda kneels down beside her and puts a hand on one of Lizzie’s shoulders. Her face is still tight and angry, but maybe like me, she can see how weak Lizzie Walton really is on the inside. Rule Six: Know when enough is enough.

“Why the fuck are you comforting her?” Creed demands, moving over to stand beside his sister. His blue eyes are cold and cruel and half-lidded. “She’s been against us from moment one. Fuck the bitch.”

“Creed, that’s enough,” Miranda says. “Yes, she was wrong, but … she’s also just confused and stupid and … in love with someone she can’t ever have. That shit drives people crazy.” A split-second later, Myron Talbot comes storming i

n the door, his face a mask of wild fury.