Page 44 of Sinful Storms

“Okay,” she said softly. On the field, the whistle blew, and I watched as Tristan jogged over to the cluster of girls, all muddy and sweaty in his lacrosse jersey. He removed his helmet,grinning at the swooning girls, and I spun away so fast I felt dizzy.

“I know Elena couldn’t be here today because she had a date with Knox’s mum and little sister at the dessert cafe in town, and I don’t want to leave you alone, but I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Aria…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to come. I thought…I thought there was something between you and Tristan…”

When her voice trailed off, I slowly turned back around, following her gaze to where Tristan was leaning on the railing, his helmet dangling from his fingertips as he flirted with the girls. He never even glanced our way.

“No,” I said, unable to hide the bitterness in my voice. “There has never been, and will never be, anything between me and Tristan.”

“If you want to leave, I don’t mind. I would have never asked you to come if I’d realised.”

“It’s okay. Like I said, there’s nothing between us. He means nothing to me. Come on, Quinn. The golden boy of Hatherley Hall? The arrogant man who gets any single girl he wants with a snap of his fingers and has no interest in settling down? He’s everything I detest in a man,andhe’s my godbrother.”

“This is such a mess. For what it’s worth, I think the two of you could be good together, but I also think you’re both incredibly stubborn, and any relationship between you would require?—”

“No. Please don’t bring it up again. There is no relationship, and there never will be.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I won’t mention it again.” Quinn stepped back from the railing, holding up her hands. Roman chose that moment to jog over, stealing a kiss, and I busied myself with my phone while they reacquainted themselves with each other’s tonsils.

Roman pulled away from his girlfriend long enough to address me. “Thanks for coming. Tristan’s been a fucking nightmare this week.”

“What would any of that have to do with me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Like you don’t know.”

I really didn’t know.

“Roman.” Quinn pointedly cleared her throat.

“He, uh, I know he’s happy you’re here,” he muttered. Shooting a glance at his friend, he winced.

I followed his gaze to see—surprise, surprise, Tristan still flirting with the girls. One of them was even squeezing his bicep. “Yeah, really looks like it.” I fucking hated this jealousy. Why should I care what he was doing or who he was doing?

“He’s confused.”

I’d had enough. Bending down, I scooped up my bag from the grass, swinging it over my shoulder. “Okay, well, he can be confused on his own because I’m not interested.” I turned to Quinn. “Come and find me when you’re ready. I’m gonna go and—” I spun around, trying to find a distraction. “—watch the tennis players.”

Her voice faded behind me as I stalked across the grounds, away from the lacrosse pitch. “Tennis? Since when do you like tennis?”

Over by the tennis courts, I placed my school blazer down on the grass as a makeshift blanket and sat down facing the courts with my back to the lacrosse field. Stretching my legs out in front of me, I basked in the feel of the warm sun on my bare skin, pretending to watch the doubles game happening in front of me. Tennis was a sport I’d never had much interest in—mostly because I’d never shown any aptitude for it—and Quinn was well aware of that fact. I was pretty sure she understood why I had to escape, though.

I was right. Less than ten minutes later, a shadow fell across my legs, and then Quinn lowered herself to the grass next to me.

“I really am sorry.” She leaned into me, resting her head on my shoulder.

“It’s okay. I’m not angry with you. I just wish I’d never found that box in the first place. All it’s done is upset people and complicate our lives.” Plucking at the blades of grass beneath my fingers, I sighed. “I want to pretend it never happened.”

“Pretend what never happened?”

“Yeah. That.”

She reached out and squeezed my hand. “This will all be over soon. Our final ever term at Hatherley Hall is coming to an end. Soon, we’ll be deep in exam prep, and then after our exams, we’ll be finished forever. You won’t have to see Tristan ever again.” After a pause, she added, “I guess you’ll probably see him or hear about him occasionally, with his parents being your godparents. But it won’t be like it is now, stuck in the same place day after day with no escape.”

I knew she was just trying to make me feel better, so why did her words hurt so much?

22

ARIA

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