Page 27 of Cruel Pleasures
“Nolan’s in a pissy mood,” Olivia says dismissively. “Too upset his bestie isn’t here for the games.”
“His bestie? You mean Klein?”
“Kaden,” she says.
Talia frowns. “It does feel different without him.”
“Where is Kaden?” I pose the question in my best attempt at acting casual.
“The hell if I know. He’s always appeared and disappeared at club events anyway.” Olivia shrugs and returns to her sunbathing as if she’s bored of the conversation.
Talia feels the opposite. The plastic brunette glances around the sparkling pool area for any eavesdroppers and then mutters, “Rumor is, his father was very unhappy with some of his choices. They’ve both been missing for weeks now.”
And Lyra.
“Missing where?” I press.
“Who knows? It could be anywhere in the world for all I know. Some say maybe they’ve offed each other. Knowing them, it’s entirely possible—ooh, look who’s coming! It’s Archer.”
The three of us sit up at the same time. My stomach drops.
The man walking toward us is none other than the one I’d seen last night in the hall… covered in blood.
As if he could get any better looking.
He checks all the boxes women traditionally say they want in a man—tall, handsome, masculine. His hair’s still a tousled golden brown that looks as though just the right amount of wind has blown through it, and his eyes are so blue they blaze like sapphires. His every facial feature comes together in perfect symmetry from his muscled jaw to his straight nose and thick brows.
He moves his body with the confidence of a man well aware of how damn good he looks. His stride, though casual, possesses an innate confidence that’s impossible to deny. Fit in the best way possible, his arms sculpted and torso trim, it’s obvious he takes good care of himself. He’s the kind of man that owns his attractiveness.
Both Talia and Olivia rip off their sunglasses and peer up at Archer like he’s the second coming. They might as well be salivating over the man as he stops in front of us and casually sticks both hands in his pants pockets. The gentle late morning breeze blows through his golden brown strands, and with the sparkling pool in the background, he looks like a model in a print ad.
“Archer,” Talia chokes out. Her cheeks tinge pink. “Would you like to join?—”
“I was hoping you’d stayed,” he says, his gaze on me. “I wanted to properly introduce myself. We got off to a bad start yesterday. Archer Hurst.”
Hurst… as in…
“Oh,” I say, swallowing. Blinking. Staring. Doing everything but responding. The only thing I can think of is the image of him perched on the windowsill covered in blood, smoking a cigarette like it was just another Friday night.
The corner of his mouth quirks at my stunned silence. “I realize how it seemed. But the situation looked worse than it was. Allow me to correct things. I would like to be your escort for the opening masquerade tonight.”
“Oh.”
“Archer, we can make a reservation for four. Olivia and I?—”
“I’m talking to Sasha,” he cuts in, his tone hardening. He still hasn’t taken his eyes off me. He’s eyeing me as though I’m a fascinating gem he’s unearthed after hours of searching. “How about it, Sasha? Will you give me a second chance? I’ll tell you all about my messy night last night. I promise it’s far less interesting than you’re thinking. Less bloody too.”
He chuckles, managing to look no less refined.
I blink a few more times, distantly aware of what I’m here to do. The role I’m here to play.
I have to take every opportunity to find answers. And my way off this isle from hell.
“Uh, sure,” I say slowly. Then I remember to pop on my smile. “I’ll attend the masquerade with you.”
“Excellent. How about I meet you in the main hall at six? We can attend the masquerade and then watch the first round of the games together.”
He winks at me with such charm, I’m certain it’s a panty dropper move for most women. He turns and strolls away as confidently as he walked up. Talia, Olivia, and I gawk after him, speechless for seconds to come. Finally, Olivia scoffs and shoves her sunglasses back onto her face.
