Broken Trust : Pacific Prep Read online

  He and Cam head toward the back of the room, claiming a table together, and the girls follow, taking the seats directly in front of them, whispering quietly to each other and casting coquettish looks back toward the guys.

  The final few students stumble in and, when the class is full, the teacher gets to his feet, rounding the desk.

  “Alright, class,” Mr. Greer begins, casting his eyes over each of us before a huge shit-eating grin crosses his face. “Now that you’ve gotten comfortable in your new seats beside your buddies, you’re all going to get up so I can put you in alphabetical order.”

  A resounding groan echoes around the room, and Emilia pouts, the expression making me chuckle as everyone clambers to their feet.

  “Stand along the back wall,” Mr. Greer calls out, happily, deriving far too much pleasure from his students' grumblings, as we all do as he asked. “When I call your name, come and take your seat.”

  Starting at the beginning of the alphabet, he calls out, “Dustin Aberman,” and a short, stocky kid quickly scurries toward the front of the class. This continues on for several more minutes until Bianca’s name is called. With her hips swaying like she’s striding down a runway and not simply walking across a classroom, she makes a whole parade of claiming her seat.

  Emilia’s name is called next and, with one final sulky look, her eyes silently begging me for help, she moves to sit next to Bianca. Neither girl looks happy to be sitting beside the other.

  “Hadley Parker,” Mr. Greer calls out several names later, pointing to a table against the wall at the back of the room. I hurry over to it, dropping into the chair as he calls out the next person’s name. “Cameron Rutherford.”

  I have to physically restrain my eye roll as he strides toward me, his warm brown eyes alight with mischief and a confident smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

  “New girl,” he purrs, sliding into the seat beside me, leaning in as he drops his arm over the back of my chair. He flicks his tongue out, running it along his bottom lip in a deliberately seductive way. My eyes trail the movement like it’s the most fascinating thing I’ve seen in a long time. Hell, it’s definitely the hottest. How can he be such an arrogant ass and sexy as fuck all at the same time?

  Unable to hold back that eye roll any longer, I let it loose, focusing on my workbook and deliberately trying to ignore the sex lollipop eyeing me up.

  “Harley, right?”

  What the hell is with these people and names?! How difficult is it to get someone's name right? Mr. Greer literally just mentioned it.

  “No,” I respond, still refusing to look at him. It’s bad enough having him this close to me, where I can breathe in his stupidly expensive aftershave that smells like bad decisions. “Close, though.”

  I cave and glance subtly in his direction out of the corner of my eye. His eyes are narrowed in concentration as he tries to recall what the teacher said.

  “Ahh,” he exclaims, banging his hand on the table, having apparently figured it out. “Hadley.” He looks triumphant, a proud grin spreading across his face.

  Raising my eyebrows and pursing my lips in a sarcastic gesture, I bob my head, still not looking at him as I doodle in the corner of my notebook.

  “Right, class,” Mr. Greer calls out, having finished with the last few students. “We’re going to start the term off with a project. Each pair is to pick a book off this year's reading list and write a ten-thousand-word report on it.” Groans and murmurs erupt around the classroom, which the teacher promptly ignores, raising his voice. “Everyone should contribute equally.”

  Great, now I’m stuck doing an assignment with Mr. Flirtypants. I highly doubt the Princes do their own homework either, so I’m probably going to be stuck doing the whole thing by myself. Super fun.

  “You can spend the rest of the class discussing it in your pairs,” Mr. Greer tacks on, solidifying the craptastic day this is turning out to be.

  “Guess we’re assignment buddies,” Cam purrs, sounding way too pleased about it.

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “You know what that means? A lot of late nights, alone in the library.”

  Why does his voice have me imagining all the dirty things we could get up to in the dark stacks? And the way he bites his lower lip has me wanting to replace his teeth with my own.

  Snapping myself out of it, I focus on the project, instead asking, “What book do you want to do?” in an attempt to bring the topic back to safer territory.

  “The first party of the year is this weekend,” he states, completely ignoring my question. I may as well have said nothing. “You should come.”

  “I’ll think about it.” My reply is blunt as I once again attempt to shut down the conversation and get back to the assignment. Besides, I’ve never been invited to a party before and I don’t know if parties are something the other scholarship students go to. I’m also not sure I want to subject myself to the company of these kids any more than I have to.

  “If you give me your room number, I can pick you up.”

  How sweet that would be, if he wasn’t full of dirty intentions.

  “I don’t think your new girlfriend would be too happy about that,” I respond, gesturing to Bianca who is glaring daggers at me from across the room. I don’t know what she thinks is going on over here, but I have no doubt I’m the one she’s going to have issues with.

  Cam snorts, shaking his head. “That’s just for show. It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just some stupid tradition.”

  “Then why do it?” I’m genuinely curious. If he and the others don’t give a shit, why subject themselves to that? Wouldn’t they rather be free to date and screw whoever they want, instead of saddling themselves with a girl they couldn’t care less about each month?

  “Because it’s expected of us.”

  There’s something in the tone of his voice that makes me lift my head to look at him. Really look at him. I’m not sure what it was I heard, but his face gives nothing away. “It means something to the girls you chose.”

  He gives me an indulgent smile, leaning in even closer. “It would, to someone like you,” he begins. I'm about to call him out on what exactly he means by ‘someone like you’ when he continues on, “But for them, it's got absolutely nothing to do with us. They want to be seen with us because of who we are and what we can offer them. If we fell to the bottom of the totem pole tomorrow, someone else would take our place and none of those girls would give a shit about us. All they want is status, money, and power.”

  “And you get absolutely nothing out of it?” I argue, letting him know I’m not buying his whole ‘woe is me’ act. I wouldn't be surprised if what he's saying is true, but it's by no means a purely selfish gesture on the guys’ part. He simply shrugs his shoulders. “Tit for tat. Everyone knows what they’re signing on for.”

  I lean in so our lips are a hair's breadth apart. I’m playing with fire, I know it, but it doesn’t stop me. “The look on Bianca's face says otherwise.”

  A cheeky grin lights up his face, excitement brimming in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re going to let something like that scare you off?”

  “Please.” I snort. “She’s a kitty cat. I could destroy her in my sleep.”

  I mean it, but I’m not about to start drama just for Cam's amusement. There are enough idiots around here feeding his arrogance, he sure as hell doesn’t need me adding to it.

  “Mmm, I’d love to see that.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you would. Too bad I don’t go for rich dudes with fake girlfriends.”

  Chapter 4

  “Girl, you’re sitting beside Cam Rutherford!” Emilia squeals as we leave English.

  “It’s really not as great as you’re making it out to be. All he wants to do is flirt with me,” I groan as she tucks her arm into my side, directing me to my next class. For real. We got nothing done the whole lesson. Any time I brought up the project, he would divert the topic to something dirty. “And did you see the loo
ks Bianca was sending me? I’ve barely been here a day and I already have an enemy.”

  She cackles at my dramatics, but seriously, it’s not the best start. I didn’t want to make waves here. The goal was to fly under the radar and focus on my work before getting the hell out of here and moving on with my future.

  “I think I’d happily flunk English if it meant Cam flirted with me.” She sighs dreamily. “Any of them, really. Although Hawk and Mason are intimidating as fuck...but imagine all that aggression being released in the bedroom.” I fear I’ve lost her to her daydreams as she full-body shivers at whatever she’s thinking about—I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know...unless one of them is doing it to my body.

  ***

  Thankfully, the rest of the day was uneventful. No other Princes were in my classes, and I didn’t see them when I went to grab lunch with Emilia and the others. I don’t know what it is about them. I can’t deny their pull over me. Whenever they’re around, I find myself watching their every move, wanting to learn more about them.

  Unfortunately, my lucky streak comes to an end on Tuesday afternoon, when, sitting in my business class, all four of them stroll in. The teacher literally takes one look at them and his eyes bug out of his head as he swallows around a lump in his throat, his voice becoming high pitched. Is he for real? He’s a fucking teacher and they’re just students. Maybe it’s the fact all four of them are in his class. They do have the air of an indomitable force.

  The four of them move toward the back row, a couple of students already sitting there quickly scurrying out of their chairs to sit elsewhere. Cam winks as he walks past my table, deliberately brushing the back of his hand against my shoulder, sending an involuntary shiver through me. Goddammit, how can he elicit that response from me so easily?

  “Alright,” the teacher begins, starting the lesson. As he drones on about some cost-benefit analysis theory, my eyes roam over the class, taking in the other students. Except for Mary sitting in the row beside me, there are literally no other females in the class. Weird.

  Feeling eyes on me, I subtly glance out of the corner of my eye until I find Mason in the far back corner of the room, his intense gaze drilling into the side of my head. What the hell? His forehead is furrowed, and he’s got a frown on his face as he leans over to Cam beside him, his hair falling forward to cover his eyes as the two of them whisper before Cam looks in my direction.

  The teacher telling us to get started on a worksheet on our tablets pulls my attention back to the lesson, but I swear, for the next hour I feel Mason's eyes on me, and, when the class finishes and the room empties, there’s a crackle in the air as he walks past. Not knowing what to make of it, I shake it off and move on to the next class of the day.

  As the week drags on, I’m constantly aware of their presence, subtly stalking them with my eyes when we’re in the same room. There’s just something about them. I can’t put my finger on it, but it has me obsessing over them for no good reason.

  As much as I’ve tried, I haven’t been able to forget about the strange shock I got the other day with Mason, and it would be impossible to ignore the wetness in my panties every time Cam throws me a dirty wink—which is far too often. For the sake of my laundry, he needs to stop.

  Every morning, my eyes inadvertently drift their way as they each sit with a girl draped all over them. Even the mousy girl, Vivian, who Mason chose, has come out of her shell. I can only imagine what went down between them to have her suddenly being more self-assured around him. The show we’re all forced to witness every morning though, is vomit inducing. West is the only one who seems to have any sort of morning etiquette, blatantly ignoring the girl—Brittany—he chose. She certainly gives it her best try to garner his attention, though. It’s almost painful to watch as she tries to get him to eat food from her fork and runs her hand suggestively down his arm until he shakes her off.

  Hawk and Mason don’t seem to have the same issue with their girls. Both of them spend the better part of breakfast attempting to see what base they can get to before someone in the hall stops them—newsflash, no one is ever going to stop them. I’m pretty sure one day, soon, we’re going to walk in and find one of them full-on fucking a girl over the table. I’m going to have to start storing cereal bars in my room. Seriously, who wants to see that shit when they’re trying to eat? Or, you know, ever? They have forever ruined pancakes for me, and I’m not fucking happy about it.

  Cam is the most baffling. One day he seems to lap up Bianca’s attention, flirting and getting on with her, and the next he’s shoving her away, wanting nothing to do with her. Yet every day, he winks in my direction, always making a point of brushing up against me when we pass in the halls. Every time he does, my pussy fucking weeps for more. I like to think I’m a resilient woman, but damn, he’s doing a good job of wearing me down. He doesn’t even need to say anything to me. A dirty look and casual touch is all it takes, apparently. I’m not used to having to deny my sexual urges, and Cam is really testing my resolve.

  When it comes to all four of them, I can’t wrap my head around any of it. What confuses me the most is the way the guys get on. When they’re around everyone else, it’s like they wear these shields, hiding their true thoughts and feelings, but I’ve caught glimpses of them alone, in the library or sometimes late at night in the dining hall when they seem so much more relaxed, more open, joking and laughing with one another. It makes no sense. This is supposed to be their domain, their territory to rule over, but most of the time, they look fucking miserable.

  It’s become a bit of an obsession, the way I watch them. I’d believe it was just my innate senses identifying a possible threat and reacting, but the way my stomach took flight and my every sense was attuned to Cam’s closeness in English tells me it’s so much more than that. I don’t know what to make of it, or what the hell to do about it. Ignoring it seems like the best option for now. I probably just have a stupid crush on him and it will pass. If only we didn’t have to do this project together, then I could actively avoid them all, until whatever the fuck has gotten into me, goes away.

  “What do you think you’re doing with Cam?” Bianca’s annoying voice calls out, stopping me in my tracks. I should have known this was coming after my attempt to wind her up in English earlier in the week.

  Slowly turning around, I narrow my eyes at her. “Excuse me?”

  “He’s mine. Don’t think I haven’t seen you panting all over him, hogging all of his attention.”

  I chuckle in disbelief. “Are you for real?”

  “I saw you in English, flirting with him.”

  “You mean talking to him?”

  Ignoring me, she continues on her rant, going on about how it’s her turn and he’s hers. I don’t know, I’m not really listening to her.

  “Look,” I snap, cutting across whatever she was rambling on about, “I’m not interested in him.” Liar. Liar. Liar, my inner slut insists, but I shut her down quickly. We’re living in denial, remember?

  “I’m serious,” I assert when she continues to look dubious. “He asked if I could go to some party with him, but I told him no.”

  That was apparently the wrong thing to say, as her face turns red, steam practically pouring out of her. “He what?!” she screeches, her fists clenching in anger.

  My eyes widen as I stand frozen, unable to do anything but stand and watch the volcano that’s about to erupt in front of me. What the actual fuck?

  “Stay away from him,” she snarls. “I’ll make your life here miserable if I catch you sniffing around him again.”

  She storms off down the hall and I watch her go, completely baffled as to what the fuck just happened. Choosing to forget about our little run-in, I saunter off in the opposite direction, continuing on my journey back to the dorms.

  Rounding the corner, I crash into a solid chest. “Ouch,” I cry as I bounce backward, rubbing at my nose. Who the fuck has a chest that hard? There’s no way that can be normal.

  �
��Watch where the fuck you’re going,” a deep voice snarls, his shitty tone immediately getting my back up.

  “Excuse me?” I bark back, glaring up into Hawk’s dark, stormy gray eyes. There’s something familiar about them, but I can’t place it. Maybe it’s the sea of anger I can see raging within them. Who knows!

  “You heard me,” he growls, shoving past me.

  For fuck’s sake, it was a bloody accident on both our parts. Is a simple ‘sorry’ too much to ask for? Apparently so.

  “Fucking asshole,” I grumble, shaking my head as I take a step forward. Getting back to my room before I run into any more rich shitheads is the best idea I’ve had all day.

  “What the fuck did you just call me?” His voice is a low rumble, threaded with dark promises of violence, halting me mid-step as I slowly turn around to face him, taking in his menacing expression. The hairs at the back of my neck stand at attention, a warning if ever there was one that this brute in front of me is a real and serious threat.

  He’s not the first man who thought he could intimidate me, just because he was bigger and scarier looking, and he sure as fuck won’t be the last. At this point, his shit slides right off me.

  I raise my chin, unflinchingly staring him down. “You heard me.”

  A snarl rips out of his chest, like he truly is part beast, but I continue to stand my ground, refusing to be cowered.

  “Hawk, man, there you are,” Cam calls out as Hawk takes a threatening step toward me. I have no idea what he was going to do, but it’s probably for the best that Cam has shown up. “What’s going on here?” he asks, his gaze bouncing between us, likely seeing the furious expressions on both of our faces and sensing the tension rippling in the air around us.

  “Nothing,” I spit out between gritted teeth. “Your buddy was about to make a horrible decision he’d later regret.”

  Another growl is the only response Hawk appears to be capable of right now as Cam, picking up on the pure rage seeping out of Hawk, angles his body between us...in some attempt to protect me? Either way, I’ve no intention of sticking around to find out.