Page 59 of The Prom

He leans on the counter, his gaze burning into me. “What do you want, Imogen?”

I shift on the spot, sure my cheeks must be on fire right now.

“To be happy, I guess.”

“Does Jesse make you happy?”

“Yes and no.”

I’m honest and he nods. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Why do you care about my intentions, Santi?”

I’m curious why we’re even having this conversation, and he appears a little sheepish.

“It’s best you don’t ask.”

“But I have.” I fix him with a determined smile. “You asked me a question, now answer mine.”

He sighs heavily and bangs down the mug, standing and growling, “You may not like this answer, Imogen and Jesse definitely wouldn’t, but perhaps I’m pissed at you because I would kind of like the opportunity to get with you myself.”

He smiles ruefully and heads out of the room and tosses back as an aside. “And you’re wasting your time with Jesse. He’s screwed, and it would take an angel to save him.”

He leaves almost as quickly as he came, but my heart is racing as he leaves his intentions behind.

Santi likes me.

The biggest man whore in this house is pissed that he didn’t get his chance with me. I probably can’t take that declaration seriously because knowing him, one taste and he’d be hitting on the next in line, but something in his expression tugged on my heart.

We all want someone and perhaps his promiscuity is merely a cover for that. It’s doubtful he will find it by fucking his way through the list, but I wonder if The Claiming is exactly what Santi needs.

TWENTY-EIGHT

DRAKE

As weeks go, this one has been the best and the worst mixed with the indifferent. I spend my time pretending to be an expert on history, which is something I never appreciated the art of before. Faking a resume and a past comes easy for Ryder, which is how I got the job in the first place, but faking knowledge is a different thing entirely.

It helps that I studied history at college and did well at it. However, the military ended my interest in that and now I’m expected to be shit hot on the subject.

Then there’s Imogen.

When I see her, I want her. When I don’t see her, I’m thinking of her and worrying if Jesse has his hands on her. Since that night we haven’t spent time alone and due to the nature of my mission, contact is limited.

It sucks being here knowing she is an arm’s length away most of the time and it’s difficult to conceal my feelings toward her when she sits in my class.

Then there’s Angela. Fuck, that woman won’t give it up. She’s there when I head into the staffroom, the cafeteria, or when I head home in the evening. I’ve taken to spending most of myspare time at the gym because that’s a place she rarely ventures inside.

However, tonight is the night I’ve been dreading because it’s initiation night, whatever that involves and as I can kind of guess, I’m prepared with my excuses.

She catches up with me in the staff cafeteria.

“Drake.” She sits opposite and I instantly lose my appetite.

“Angela.” I nod, remaining impassive as she openly flirts with me, batting her lashes and sucking in her lower lip. I’m guessing she has dressed provocatively to send a message and her silk shirt is low, revealing rather a large cleavage.

“Tonight.”

Her voice drips suggestion and I remain impassive as I remark, “Tonight?”

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