Fraud

“She is so dead for this,” Ava says beside me. “What the hell did Ivy put in his locker?”

“Sex lube,” Gabriel Carter says at our back. “That’s why it’s so slippery.”

Most of the time, I don’t even want to know how Ivy manages to pull off the pranks she sets up. What I do know is she spends a fortune on them. But that’s not a problem when she has her own unlimited credit card that her father pays off with no questions asked.

Despite how entertaining it is to watch Gabriel struggle, so much so that the only option is for Ta

There’s an offer and a warning in the way he looks at me now, his head angling toward the bathrooms, just enough so nobody but me will notice it.

Cocking his brow, Ezra grins again before walking off with the silent invitation for me to follow.

I shouldn’t.

He’s trouble with a capital T.

All of the Inferno boys are, but especially the twins. There isn’t a day when one of them shows up clear of the scrapes and bruises they wear, proud markers of the fights they always start and always win.

My fingers tighten over the strap of my bag, indecision cementing my body in place.

I watch with unblinking eyes as Ezra walks down to hall to slam a hand against the bathroom door, his gaze flicking my direction once more before he disappears inside.

Around me, everybody is still focused on Gabriel and Ivy. Not even Shane or Damon noticed that Ezra walked away, and I could simply slip through the crowd and follow without a single person noticing.

My pulse pounds harder as my teeth chew the inside of my lip.

I shouldn’t.

But I find myself sneaking around all the people gathered around me anyway.

Quiet as a church mouse, I walk down the hall, my head angled down and my red hair covering my face.

When I reach the bathroom door, I have another moment of indecision, just a few seconds where I can rethink what I’m doing and remember every reason it’s a bad idea.

This is stupid.

I can’t do this.

I don’t even make it one step away before the door pulls open and a hand locks over my bicep. I’m dragged sideways with one hard tug, the door closing again as my back hits Ezra’s chest.

“You were going the wrong way.”

Trembling at the whisper against my ear and the way his fingertips brush my neck when he moves my hair aside, I close my eyes and summon the will to walk away.

“Probably because being here with you is the dumbest thing I can do.”

He laughs, the sound soft and dark, mocking me in a way that sets my nerves on edge while lighting all the girlish parts inside of me on fire.

“That’s not what you said yesterday. Or the day before that.”

There’s always a distinct growl to his voice, a rough quality like someone had taken sandpaper to his words to scrape up the edges.

He turns me around and dips his head to capture my eyes with his. He always does this...traps me before I can regain my senses enough to run away.

Fingers soft against my chin, he tilts my face to his and I stare wide-eyed at the green flecks in his amber stare.

The problem is I have no idea who I’m staring at. It could be Ezra. It could be Damon. I could be part of the typical game they play without ever knowing it.

“Who are you?”

It’s the same question I always ask.

He answers it with a mischievous grin. “Does it matter?”

To most girls, the answer to that question is a resounding no. All of them clamber to be with one of the Inferno. I’ve always found it ridiculous on their parts. Pathetic, really. So, while it wouldn’t matter to most which twin they end up with for a few hours, to me it does.

“Yes.”

Confusion rolls through his eyes for a split second, there and gone with one blink of his eyes.

“Ezra.”

“You promise?”

His feet move slowly as he walks me back to a wall, my bag falling off my shoulder as his body cages me in place.

Dipping his head again, his eyes remain locked to mine as his teeth nip at my bottom lip, an electric spark shooting through my body at the contact.

“Why do you even care? You have one of us.”

A shaky breath rolls over my lips and it feels like he’s stealing it from my lungs as his mouth slants against mine, a quick lick of his tongue across my lips before it dips inside my mouth to taste the frayed edges of my nerves and the chaotic thrum of my pulse.

I shouldn’t be scared.

More excited.

More turned on.

But still my fingers curl into my palms, the nails indenting the skin.

Strong fingertips scrape up the outside of my thighs. The hem of my pleated skirt lifts with the punishing pressure of his aggressive fingers.

I have to flatten my palms against the heavy, grey fabric to hold it down.

A grin against my lips, those amber eyes flicking open to trap mine again. “Something wrong?”

“I’m supposed to marry Mason.”

There it is, the truth that hangs around my neck like a noose.

He blinks, his body going so still that it makes me nervous to be standing here.

Ezra is a live wire that can snap at a moment’s notice. He’s like an attack dog that gives no warning before going for the throat. Everybody eyes him and Damon warily because you never know what might set them off.

I don’t think he’d actually hurt me, but after seeing him fight, it’s difficult not to remember just how quickly he can go from easy and carefree to heart stopping in his violence.

“Do you want to marry Mason?”

I laugh at that. “No.”

He grins. “Are you married to him now?”

I shake my head, a lump in my throat preventing me from answering again.

“So, what’s the problem?”

There shouldn’t be one. It’s just unfair that my entire life has been pla

Being promised to Mason is like having a chain attached to my leg. I can’t think of my future without considering him. I can’t have a career. I can’t care about college or a degree, knowing I’ll never use it. I can’t fall in love without knowing it will never lead to anything.

My destiny has already been written as the wife of a man propped up by a trust fund.

I’ll be a jewel.

An ornament.

A pet to be pampered and nothing else.

That’s who I am.

I can’t have secret trysts with dangerous men. Can’t fantasize about darker desires that are too scandalous to discuss in polite society.

And Ezra is everything the good little girls are warned about.

“We’re just having fun,” he reminds me, his finger twisting a loose strand of my hair that hangs down by my face. “I already told you that.”

Just fun.

Nothing serious.

The bell rings and I shove away from him to grab my bag.

“I have to go.”

Ezra threads his fingers with mine when I try to step away, his eyes shimmering with humor.

“You can’t run far. I know you want this.”

Yanking my hand from his, I duck my head and leave the bathroom without answering.

Because how can I answer?

Especially when he’s not wrong.