Page 74 of The Devils They Are

After begrudgingly agreeing to unblock Tai's number, I had no choice but to admit I was at the mercy of the curriculum. I'm still not entirely sure why algebra requires us to partner up. Even more confusing is the so-called project that's now been assigned to us. Each pair has been issued with an equation to solve. I miss the days where mathematics didn't include the alphabet, and for a split second, I was certain that we'd probably be able to just solve the equation on our own—but I was wrong.

If I had to bet money on it, this bullshit series of numbers is more complex than at first glance. Not only are there at least two dozen steps to complete it, I'm almost certain that the equation in itself is unsolved. But we still have to work through the series of steps to find some definitive answer that we both agree on. Trying to come to a consensus with Tai…thatwill be the real test.

"So, this is your house," I mutter awkwardly, gazing up at the two—no, wait—three storey home. Well, it's not so much of a house as it is a mansion. It's even bigger than Rylan's place, and once again, I find myself a little annoyed that these men continue to dazzle in luxury and rub it in our faces like a weapon.

In other circumstances, I would have firmly stated that we stay at the academy to work on the project. There's no way in hell I'd let Tai into my house. But apparently, the academy decided to limit access to facilities outside of school hours. But I'm not stupid—I'd easily guess that it's to stop Cedar students from snooping around or being on grounds unsupervised.

As I said, the only consolation to agreeing to come here is that I have Sophia present as a witness in case Iaccidentallymurder her twin brother. I'm still in dumb disbelief that I managed to befriend the one person that's tied to the three men that serve to make my life a living hell. Talk about luck.

Speaking of the Devil, he trots down the staircase with practiced ease, locking eyes with me from over the top of Soph.

"Spencer. A pleasant sight as always."

"It's as pleasant as a pap smear," I grumble, Soph snorting as I waltz past her. I'm keen to just get this over with. The less amount of time I need to be around him, the better.

Swinging my bag dangerously high, I nearly manage to connect with his precious face. He doesn't flinch though, just grinning at me like he's caught a mouse in a trap.

"Follow me. We can study in my room."

I don't immediately follow, instead turning to Soph. "You'll be nearby, right?"

She nods, words cut off as Tai gapes at us, offended.

"I'm not going to cause bodily harm," he protests.

"I might," I quickly answer, squeezing his sister's shoulder for good measure—a silent plea at making sure I don't leave here in handcuffs. Normally, I'd like being cuffed… just not under these circumstances.

He grumbles under his breath, leading the way as we climb the stairs. I gaze around, taking in the pastels—well, it's mainly just a lot of white. I guess Willowbrook Wolves never change colors. It's no secret that his father is an esteemed alumnus, making Tai and Sophia legacies. They care about their dumb rollcall as much as they do their funding.

But his house is so eerily different to Rylan's. Even though Max Astor is a Wolf too, their house still felthomey. There were pictures lining the walls, the smell of floral accents, and welcoming furniture. This house reminds me of a museum—cleaner than any building I've ever seen, smelling horribly of disinfectant, and not a single trace of livelihood. There's no pictures, not even any artwork on the pale white walls. It's as if they forgot to decorate it, and someone just cleans vigorously all day.

My stomach clenches at the smell and color. Flashbacks of the hospital spring to mind, and when Tai disappears through a doorway, I have to take a small breath to steady myself. But when I walk in, preparing to face more blank canvases, I'm surprised to find the opposite.

If you showed me a picture of Tai's bedroom next to a photograph of any other communal room in this house, I'd never know they were in close proximity. Where the walls are bare downstairs, Tai has photos, artwork and trophies lining around the room. My eyes fall to a large black and white canvas on the far wall, the charcoal streaks of wax pastel weave into shapes—the face of a beautiful woman.

Throwing himself into his computer chair, he swings around to face me, frowning at my hovering figure by the door. "You can come in. I don't bite. Well, not unless you ask nicely of course."

Ripping my eyes away from the canvas, I cross the room, sitting in the second chair on the other side of the computer desk. It's clear that it's not its usual place, and I'm silently thankful for the hospitality. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

"Have you looked over the equation yet?" I ask, dumping my workbooks and notes onto the desk.

"I figured you could just do it all for us."

Scratch that. It's going to be bad.

"I'm not doing the project solo," I snap. "You might have a free ride to graduation, but I don't."

"Chill, Spencer. I was just kidding. It's a joke, not a dick. Don't take it so hard."

My eyes snap up, face awash with frustration. He just grins in response, leaning back in his chair like he doesn't have a care in the world.

"And what does that mean?" I ask sternly, reading between the lines.

Tai cocks an eyebrow. "Whatever do you mean, sweet Bexley?"

I might not know how to do this algebra equation yet, but I can add things together. The smug smile, the dancing eyes—a lot can be said about someone's facial expressions. And clearly, Tai knows. It doesn't take a psychiatrist to figure out he's taunting me with unspoken secrets.

"Get over it," I answer sharply. "What's done is done."

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