Whole New Meaning to the Cool Kids’ Table
“Um, yeah. Sure. Of course.” As I turn to look at him, the words pour out of my mouth without any rhyme or reason, making me sound—and feel—like a jerk.
Jaxon inclines his head, lifts a brow. “So it is taken, then?”
Forget sounding like a jerk. I am a jerk. “No! I mean, yes. I mean…” I stop, take a deep breath, and then blow it out slowly. “The seat isn’t taken. You can sit down if you’d like.”
“I would like.” He grabs the chair and turns it around so that when he drops down into it, he’s facing the back of the chair, one elbow draped negligently over the top.
It’s a completely ridiculous way to sit, especially on a chair this elegant…but it’s also superhot. And it’s pretty much been my kryptonite since Moises de la Cruz did it at a pool party when we were in seventh grade.
What can I say? I’m weak.
Guess I’m not the only weak one, though, because Macy makes another choked sound as she stares behind me—this one worse than the last. I tear my eyes away from Jaxon long enough to make sure that sip of coffee isn’t actually killing her. Thankfully, it’s not, but the fact that the other members of the Order are currently settling themselves down at the table with us just might.
“How’s your ankle?” Jaxon asks, his dark gaze sliding over me in what I know is concern but what feels a little like a caress.
“Better. Thanks for…yesterday.”
“Which part?” The crooked grin is back, and this time when he looks me over, it feels a lot like a caress.
But just because I’m flustered doesn’t mean I’m a pushover. “The waffles. Obviously.”
One of the members of the Order snorts at my answer, then darts a quick look at Jaxon as he tries to smother the sound. Jaxon just kind of rolls his eyes, though, and gives a little nod in his direction. Which makes the guy laugh again and has the added effect of relaxing all the other guys as well.
“Obviously.” He shakes his head, looks away. But his smile doesn’t fade. “So you’re planning on going to class today.”
It’s not a question, but I answer anyway. “Yeah. It’s time.”
He nods like he knows what I’m talking about. “What’s your first period?”
“I don’t remember.” I pull the blue schedule Uncle Finn gave me from my jacket pocket. “Looks like Brit Lit with Maclean.”
“I’m in that class,” says one of the other members of the Order. He’s black, with friendly eyes and the hottest set of locks I’ve ever seen. “You’ll like her. She’s cool. I’m Mekhi, by the way, and I’m happy to walk you to class if you want, show you where it is.”
Macy makes yet another choking sound—I’m beginning to think her death really is imminent—at the same time that Jaxon replies, “Yeah, that’s going to happen.”
The other guys laugh, but I don’t get the joke. So I just kind of smile and say, “Thanks, Mekhi. I’d appreciate it, if you wouldn’t mind.”
That only makes them laugh harder.
I give Jaxon a WTF look, but he’s just kind of shaking his head at them. Then he leans in and says, “I’ll walk you to class, Grace.”
He’s so close that his breath tickles my ear, sending shivers down my spine that have nothing to do with Alaska and everything to do with the fact that I want this guy. That, despite all the warnings and bad behavior, I really do think I’m falling for Jaxon Vega.
“That would—” My voice breaks, and I have to clear my throat a couple of times before I can try again. “That would be nice, too.”
“It would be nice.” There’s amusement in his voice, but
when our eyes meet, there’s no trace of laughter in his. There’s also no trace of the coldness that’s as much a part of him as the dark hair and long, lean body. Instead, there’s a heat—an intensity—that has my hands shaking and my knees going weak.
“Should we head over now?” The question is ripped from my dry throat.
He looks pointedly at my tray. “You should eat now.”
“You should eat, too.” I reach for the silver package on my tray, hold it out to him.
He looks from me to the breakfast pastries and back again. “Pop-Tarts aren’t what I’m hungry for.”
This time, Macy’s not the one making the choking sound. I look up, tracing it to its origin—the only member of the
Order who looks like he might be Native Alaskan, a guy with bronze skin and long, dark hair tied into a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck.
“Something funny, Rafael?” Jaxon asks, eyes narrowed and tone silky smooth.
“Absolutely not,” he answers but glances at me even as he says it, eyes brimming with mischief and delight. “I think I’m going to like you, Grace.”
“And here the day was going so well.”
He grins. “Yeah, definitely going to like you.”
“Don’t feel too flattered, Grace. Rafael’s not exactly the most discerning guy around,” says one of the others, a boy with twinkling blue eyes and gold hoop earrings.
“Like you are, Liam?” Rafael shoots back. “The last girl you dated was a barracuda.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s an insult to barracudas everywhere,” chimes in another one of Jaxon’s friends, his Spanish accent sexily rolling his Rs.
“Luca knows what I’m talking about,” Rafael says.
“Because Luca’s dating history is so impressive?” Jaxon drawls, joining the conversation for the first time.
The quip is so unexpected—so what I’m used to from his texts but not in person—that I can’t help staring at him. Then again, everything about this morning has been unexpected—especially the dynamic among the members of the Order. Every time I’ve seen them, they’ve appeared so tough and unapproachable. So unfeeling.
But sitting here with one another—and no one but Macy and me to witness it, since Cam and his group took one look at who was sitting with us and headed in the other direction
—they’re just like any other group of friends. Except funnier. And way, way hotter. Knowing he’s got friends like this—and that he can be a friend like this—makes me like Jaxon even more.
Jaxon catches me staring and raises a questioning brow in my direction.
I just shrug at him like it’s no big deal and reach for my glass. Then nearly choke at the look in his eyes as he watches me. Because there’s a craving there, a dark and devastating desperation that has my breath stuttering in my chest and heat blooming deep inside me.
He holds my gaze for one second, two. Then he slowly blinks, and when he opens his eyes again, the emptiness is back.
And still, I watch him. Still, I can’t look away. Because there’s something just as beautiful—and just as devastating
—in their emptiness as there is in their heat. Eventually, though, I force myself to look down. Mostly because if I don’t, I’m afraid I’ll do something foolish like throw myself at Jaxon in front of the entire school.
Turning away from him, I forcibly yank my attention back to the conversation at hand, just in time to hear Luca say, “Hey, now. How was I supposed to know Angie was a soul- sucking demon?”
“Ummm, because we told you so?” Mekhi answers.
“Yeah, but I thought you were biased. You didn’t like her from the start.”
“Because she was a soul-sucking demon,” Liam repeats. “What part of that are you not getting?”
“What can I say?” Luca gives a careless shrug. “The heart
wants what the heart wants.”
“Until what the heart wants tries to kill you,” Rafael teases.
“Sometimes even then.” The words are quiet, spoken from the haunted-looking guy sitting to Macy’s right.
“Seriously, Byron?” Mekhi grouses. “Why you always got to shut the conversation down?”
“I was just making an observation.”
“Yeah, a depressing observation. You need to lighten up, man.”
Byron just stares at him, lips twisted in a tiny little smile that makes him look like a modern-day embodiment of his poet namesake.
Mad, bad, and dangerous to know.
The famous quote from Lady Caroline Lamb goes through my mind. But I’m not focused on Byron’s wavy black hair and dimples when I think about her words. No, in my head, they’re all about Jaxon, with his scarred face and cold eyes and smile that borders on cruel at least half the time.
Definitely bad. Definitely dangerous. As for mad…I don’t know yet, but something tells me I’m going to find out.
When I think of him like that, I wonder what the hell I’m doing even contemplating feeling the way I do. After all, in San Diego, dark and dangerous wasn’t exactly my type. Then again, maybe that’s because I never ran into the genuine article back home. Here in Alaska… Well, all I’m saying is, there’s a reason half the girls in the school are swooning over Jaxon.
Besides, there’s more to him than meets the eye. No matter how angry he is, he’s never been anything but
gentle with me. Even that first day, when he was so obnoxious, he still never did anything that made me uncomfortable. And he’s certainly never hurt me. To everyone else, he might be as dangerous as Macy warns. But to me, he seems more misunderstood than malicious, more broken than bad.
Besides, Byron called it when he implied the heart wants what the heart wants, even when it’s bad. And no matter how many warnings I get about Jaxon, I’m pretty sure he’s what my heart wants.
Suddenly, a weird kind of chiming sound cuts through Dvořák’s “The Noonday Witch” (if I’m not mistaken) that’s currently playing over the cafeteria’s loudspeakers. “What is that?” I ask, looking around to see if we’re suddenly being invaded by a bunch of triangle-playing guerrillas.
“The bell,” Macy says. They’re the first two words she’s managed to choke out since the Order took up residence next to us, and all seven of us turn to her in surprise. Which just makes her flash a small little smile before shoving half a Pop-Tart in her mouth.
“You still didn’t eat,” Jaxon says. And then he picks a Pop- Tart and hands it to me.
“Seriously?” I take it, because I know he’s just going to stand there holding it until I do. But I’m still going to call him on it. Because I’m smart enough to know that if I let him get away with the small things, he’ll try his best to steamroll me with everything else, too. “I’m pretty sure I can figure out for myself if I’m hungry or not.”
He shrugs. “A girl’s got to eat.”
“A girl can decide that for herself. Especially since the guy
sitting next to her didn’t eat anything, either.”
Mekhi lets out a little whoop. “That’s right, Grace. Make sure he doesn’t walk all over you.”
Jaxon gives him a look that sends a chill right through me, but Mekhi just rolls his eyes, although I notice that he does shut his mouth for pretty much the first time since he sat down. Not that I blame him. If Jaxon looked at me like that, I think I might run for the hills.
“What classroom are you going to?” Jaxon asks as we maneuver our way through the suddenly bustling cafeteria. It’s easier than it should be, considering the mad stampede toward the doors that is currently going on. But as long as Jaxon is in the lead, the sea of students does more than just part. It pretty much leaps out of the way.
I fumble for my schedule again, but before I can so much as pull it out, Mekhi answers, “A246,” right before he disappears into the crowd.
“Apparently, A246,” I repeat, tongue firmly in cheek. “Apparently.” He moves slightly ahead of me to push open
