Twisted Palace (17 page)

E
ven as I
warm up with the other girls, I’m still expecting some sort of ambush. My wary gaze darts toward Jordan after each stretch and exercise I complete, but she seems focused on her own stretches. Maybe this is legit? I mean, I practiced with these girls all week, and I didn’t get so much as a hint that they might be up to something. I’m praying that nobody is going to throw a bucket of pig’s blood on me when I’m in the middle of a tumbling routine.

As Hailey and I head for the bench to rehydrate, she leans in closer and whispers, “There are, like, a hundred girls staring at you right now.”

I frown and follow her gaze. Sure enough, there are
a lot
of female eyes on me. Male ones, too, because of the booty shorts and crop top I’m wearing. But the girls aren’t checking me out—they’re all looking at me in…envy?

It doesn’t make sense to me at first, but when I pass a group of jersey-wearing girls in the front row, the pieces suddenly slide together.

“That’s his girlfriend!” one hisses loud enough for me to overhear.

“She’s
so
pretty,” her friend whispers back, sounding sincere rather than catty.

“She’s lucky, more like it,” the first one responds. “I’d die to go out with Reed Royal.”

This is about Reed? Wow. I guess that girl on the bus was right—bad boys
do
have major appeal. I glance at the away bench, where Reed is sitting with Easton, then at the stands, and realize that a ton of girls are looking covetously at Reed.

Jordan sidles up to me. “Quit eye-fucking your boyfriend,” she mutters. “We’re going on soon.”

I glance over at her. “I’m pretty sure every chick in this stadium is doing the same thing. I guess it’s every girl’s fantasy to hook up with a murder suspect?”

My nemesis snorts in amusement, then slaps a hand over her mouth as if she realizes what she’d done. I’m kind of surprised, too, since Jordan and I aren’t exactly joking-around friends. Or friends, period.

The non-toxic exchange must have freaked Jordan out, because she suddenly snarls at me. “Your shorts are riding up. I can see half your ass. Fix yourself up, will you?”

I fight a grin as she stalks off, because we both know the industrial double-stick tape on my ass means my shorts haven’t moved an inch. Maybe I’ve been going about this the wrong way—instead of shooting insults and antagonizing Jordan, maybe I should be extra sweet and friendly. That would drive her insane.

I turn toward the bleachers again in search of Val. When I spot her a few rows behind the away bench, I give her a happy wave. She waves back and then shouts, “Break a leg!”

Grinning, I rejoin the team and bounce up and down on my heels a little, mentally preparing myself for the routine. I think I have it down pat, but hopefully I don’t forget all the moves once the spotlight is on me.

Since it’s the first playoffs game, the pre-show is ridiculously extravagant. There’s a drum line routine punctuated by fire shooting out of big pillars on either side of the field and a short display of fireworks. The Gibson High cheerleaders put on a routine that involves a lot of butt-shaking and hip-swaying, causing all the guys in the stands to jump to their feet and whistle and catcall. Then it’s our turn. The girls and I run onto the field. I catch Reed’s eye as I get in position next to Hailey.

He gives me a thumbs up, which I return with a huge grin.

The music starts, and we’re off.

All my nerves disappear the moment the beat injects into my bloodstream. I nail every spin and turn. I kill it on the short tumbling routine that I do side by side with Hailey. Adrenaline sizzles inside me, my heart racing in excitement as the fast-paced dance routine draws deafening cheers from the crowd. The team moves in perfect precision, and when we finally wrap up, we get a standing ovation.

Now I get why Astor Park has won all those national championships. These girls are
talented
. And although this started off as just a way for me to attend this game, I can’t lie—I’m kind of proud to have been a part of this performance.

Even Jordan is in an ecstatic mood. Her cheeks glow as she hugs and high-fives her teammates—including me. Yep, she actually gives me a high-five, and it’s
genuine
. I guess hell must have frozen over.

Any thoughts of murder and verdicts and prison are relegated to the very back of my head. No one else seems to be bothered by it, either.

After we clear the field, there’s some discussion with the refs and the coaches, a coin toss, and then the game gets underway. The Riders’ offense is up first, and my eyes follow Wade as he jogs onto the field. He’s a tall guy, but for some reason he looks even bigger in his uniform and with his helmet on.

On the first play, Wade throws a short pass to a receiver with the name Blackwood on his jersey. Blackwood catches the ball, but then there’s a long, boring halt as the refs try to decide if he gained enough yards for a new set of downs—Hailey helped me with some of the lingo on the bus ride up here when she found out how little I knew about the game. A little man darts out and measures the distance from the ball to the line, then holds up his hands and makes a signal I don’t understand. Hailey and I didn’t cover hand signals.

The Astor Park fans cheer in approval. Me, I’m just bored from how long it took to decide if our guys got a few measly yards. I search the sidelines until I spot Reed. At least I think it’s Reed. There are two players with ROYAL stitched on their jerseys and they’re standing side by side, so for all I know, I’m ogling Easton’s butt and not Reed’s. He shifts his head and I see his profile. Yup, it’s Reed.

He’s chewing on his mouth guard, and then, as if he senses me watching him, he sharply turns his head. The mouth guard pops out and he grins at me. It’s a wicked, private smile reserved just for me.

The excitement vibrating in the stadium only gets more intense when Gibson ends up tying the score right before halftime. In retaliation, Reed and Easton tackle the Gibson quarterback the next time he’s on the field, and the guy fumbles the football. Someone else on the Astor defense scoops it up and runs it in for a touchdown.

The Astor Park fans are freaking out. The home fans are booing loud enough to rock the bleachers. Some of the Gibson kids start chanting, “Killer, killer,” but are quickly shut down by some administrators. The verbal attacks only seem to fire up the Astor Park team even more.

In the end, the Riders win the game, which means they’re moving on to the next round of the playoffs. I grin as I watch Coach Lewis slap his players on their asses after the win. Football is so freaking weird.

The teams form two lines and exchange handshakes. A few of the opposing players don’t shake Reed’s hand. For a moment I wonder if there’s going to be a fight, but Reed doesn’t seem to care. The moment they’re done, Easton races toward me. He plucks me right off my feet, then carries me down to the field and whirls me around.

“Did you see that sack in the second?” he exclaims.

I strain my head toward Val, who’s hurrying down the steps toward us.

“Wait for Val!” I grumble at him, but he carts me down the sidelines and doesn’t release me until we reach the entrance of the tunnel that leads to the locker rooms.

Reed is there, helmet in hand, sweaty hair matted to his head. “Enjoy the game?” he asks before bending his head and kissing me.

A laughing Val finally catches up to us, and she and Easton start making gagging noises as Reed’s kiss drags on and on.

“Come on, guys, we’re standing right
here
,” Val announces. “Royal, stop mouth-mauling my best friend so we can walk back to the hotel already.”

I break away from the kiss. “You didn’t drive?” I ask her.

She shakes her head. “It was a ten-minute walk. I figured there wouldn’t be any closer parking spots, anyway.”

Reed gives me a stern look. “I don’t want you two walking back to the hotel alone. Wait for us outside the stadium and we’ll all walk back together.”

I respond with a brisk salute. “Yes, sir.”

His mouth finds mine again. This time there’s something different about his kiss. It’s rippling with promise. When he pulls back, I see a familiar gleam in his blue eyes. We’re away from the Royal mansion. There’s no risk of Callum or Steve or anyone else interrupting us. Whatever reservations Reed had about saving himself until after the investigation is over were left behind in Bayview. There’s only one reason I’d join Jordan’s dance squad and it’s not to cuddle.

We both know what’s going to happen tonight.

R
eed
and I walk back to the hotel with Easton, Valerie…and Wade. Needless to say, Val is
not
happy about this latest development.

The moment we reach the parking lot, she plants her feet and crosses her arms. “Why is
he
here?” Her accusatory gaze is laser-pointed at me. “You said it was just Reed and Easton.”

I hold up my hands in defense. “I didn’t know.”

Wade looks uncharacteristically wounded. I always thought nothing fazed this guy, but Val’s obvious unhappiness about his presence brings a sad look to his face.

“Come on, Val,” he says hoarsely. “Don’t be like that.”

She bites her lip.

“Please,” he adds. “Can’t we just go somewhere and talk?”

“You’re staying with us anyway,” Easton pipes up, “so you guys might as well call a truce before the slumber party begins.”

I turn to Val in surprise. “You’re not rooming with me?”

A flicker of humor shines through her cloudy expression. “Didn’t I tell you? Reed and I reached an agreement. I agreed to bunk with Easton.”

I glance from Reed to Val in suspicion. When did they decide
that
?

Val’s humor fades and the clouds take over again. “But I didn’t agree to bunk with
him
.”

Wade looks hurt again. “Val…”

“Wade,” she mimics.

Easton heaves a huge sigh. “Okay, I’m tired of this lovers’ quarrel. I’m going to hit the hotel bar while you two figure this shit out.” He grins at Val. “And if you figure out that you guys want to be alone tonight, text me and I’ll get my own room.”

With that, he saunters inside, leaving the four of us in the parking lot.

“Val?” I prompt.

She hesitates for a long, long time. Then she groans. “Oh fine. I’ll talk to him.” She says it to me rather than Wade, whose whole face lights up at her words. “I need to come up and grab my bag, though.”

We climb up to the third floor, where I swipe the keycard to open the door. As Val ducks inside to get her backpack, Reed and I linger in the doorway with Wade, who decides to offer me his unsolicited advice.

“Make sure my man doesn’t skimp on the foreplay. That’s important. Warms that virginal body of yours right up.”

I whirl toward Reed. “You told him I was a virgin?!”

Wade answers for him. “Nah, East did.”

Frickin’ Easton. That boy can never keep his mouth shut.

“Also,” Wade adds solemnly, “don’t freak if you don’t have an orgasm the first time. You’re gonna be all tense and nervous. Besides, Reed won’t last more than twenty seconds—”

“Wade,” Reed says in exasperation.

“Leave them alone,” Val snaps, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. “You should be worrying about your own technique. From what I saw in that supply closet at school, you need a lot of work.”

He slaps a hand to his heart as if she shot an arrow into it. “How dare you, Carrington. I’m a modern-day Romeo.”

“Romeo dies,” she says tersely.

I fight a smile as the two of them disappear back toward the stairwell. Wade has his work cut out for him, that’s for sure. Val is clearly not going to make this easy for him.

Reed and I exchange a grin and enter the hotel room, where he sits on the bed and gestures for me to join him.

Nerves flutter in my tummy. “Um…” I swallow hard and then clear my throat. “Give me a second?”

I dash into the bathroom before he can answer. The moment I’m alone, I stare at my reflection in the mirror, noting the deep blush on my cheeks. I feel stupid. I mean, Reed and I have fooled around before. I shouldn’t be nervous, but I am.

Breathing deeply, I reach for the gift bag I stashed under the sink and spend an excessive amount of time getting ready. Smoothing out my hair. Fixing the bra straps so they’re not crooked but perfectly parallel. I glance in the mirror again and can’t deny I look hot.

Reed agrees, because the second I step out of the bathroom, he groans, “Holy fuck, baby.”

“Thought I’d change into something a little less comfortable,” I say in a wry voice.

He wheezes out a laugh. He took off his shirt when I was in the bathroom, and now he rises to his feet, bare-chested and utterly gorgeous.

“You like?” I ask shyly.

“I more than like.”

He advances on me like a hungry animal, blue eyes raking over my body until every inch of me feels hot and achy. He comes closer, and he’s so much taller than me, so much bigger. Strong arms pull me in. His lips find my neck and he kisses me there.

“FYI?” he murmurs against my heated flesh. “You don’t need to dress up for me. You’re beautiful no matter what you wear.” He lifts his head and gives me a wicked smile. “You’re even more beautiful when you’re wearing nothing at all.”

“Don’t ruin this,” I scold. “I’m too nervous. I need to feel pretty.”

“You
are
pretty. And there’s no reason to be nervous. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Are you backing out?”

“No way.” He drags his hand down my side to settle at my waist. “Nothing or no one could drag me away at this point.”

I want this so badly I can hardly breathe. I never gave much thought to my first time. I never fantasized about rose petals and candles. I never even thought it would be with someone I loved, if I’m being honest.

“Good, because I don’t want to wait another minute,” I tell him.

“Lie down.” His voice is husky as he nudges me toward the bed.

Without a word, I stretch out on my back with my head on the pillows.

He stands at the edge of the mattress. Then he takes off his pants.