Arrogant King

AMY

The soft bristles of Serena’s makeup brush tickle my cheek. I texted her this morning to see what she was planning to wear to the group date today—an escape room. She said no-makeup makeup, and when I asked what that meant, she immediately invited herself over to do mine for me.

I didn’t put up a fight. It’s fun to have girl time with her. This is the type of thing Harper and I used to do.

“I got a text from Nick last night,” Serena says, her voice low and reflective.

“Really? What did he say?”

Serena’s fingers still momentarily. “It came in late last night. I think it was a booty call.” She smirks, but her eyes hold something deeper.

Vulnerability.

“Tell me exactly what the text said,” I say, “and I’ll tell you if I think it was a booty call.”

She resumes her brush strokes. “It just said, ‘How are you,’ with no question mark.”

I scoff. “What is it with men and no punctuation marks in texts? It’s really not that hard to do one extra thumb tap at the end of your sentence.”

Serena giggles, and warmth flows through me.

I miss this. I almost forgot what it was like to have womanly companionship. Although, I suppose I only ever had teen companionship with Harper.

This is better.

“What did you tell him?” I ask.

She shrugs, her gaze fixed on my eyelids. “I said I was busy with the game.”

“And what did he say to that?”

She smirks. “He said that he hopes I know Tristan is not going to pick me. Not with our history.”

My mouth drops open. “He’s jealous.”

She shrugs. “Maybe. He also said that Tristan’s been acting weird.”

The back of my neck prickles. “Did he explain himself?”

“He says he’s been moody.”

The air in the room grows heavier, and I wonder if she’s thinking the same thing I am.

“Do you think…” I swallow. “Serena, I want you to be straight with me. Do you think he’s planning my downfall?”

She smiles warmly as she takes my face in her hands and guides it side to side, examining my makeup. “I don’t think he’s deep enough for that. If I’m being totally honest, Amy, I think he might have a crush on you.”

Warmth unfurls within me, but I try to fight it. I can’t give in to delusions if I want to keep my head in this competition. There’s no way Tristan has a crush on me, even if he might have seemed like it yesterday when he kissed me.

“If you really like someone,” I say, “you wouldn’t humiliate them publicly. That’s what you do to someone you hate.”

She’s quiet for a moment. “Do you mind telling me what he did?”

I exhale a heavy breath. I can do this. Serena has been nothing but kind to me, and if I want to have a real friendship with her, I need to be vulnerable. The way she was vulnerable with me when she told me the story about Nick.

“So I’m sorry I never told you this,” I say in a rush, “but I have a deeper history with Tristan than just knowing him in high school. Harper and I… She used to be my best friend.”

Serena’s quiet for a moment. “Nick mentioned that Harper used to have a best friend. That was you?”

I expel a heavy breath. “Yes.”

Her eyes narrow on my face. “And this is connected to Tristan humiliating you publicly?”

I nod. “They both did, but I think Tristan instigated it. I write a fanfic. It’s more than a hobby. It’s basically the only thing I do for fun. It’s my passion.”

She smiles, and I see in her eyes that she wants to ask me about it, but she stays silent. Serena is so good at this. She’s a quiet, nonjudgmental presence. It makes me trust her, even when I’m terrified of trusting people after everything that went down with Tristan and Harper.

“I barely talked to Tristan. Only a bit back when he first started dating Harper years ago. After Harper cut me out of her life, I avoided him like the plague. Then, one day I was hanging out in the library, and Tristan started up a conversation with me. It was really—intense. Like he’d been wanting to talk to me for a while. As delusional as it sounds, I thought maybe he was trying to reach out to me on Harper’s behalf. Like maybe she wanted to reconcile.”

“That’s not delusional at all. What else were you supposed to think?”

I roll my eyes. “I think I got a little cocky, because I ended up telling him all about my fanfic. I even told him my pseudonym. It was almost like I was hoping he would tell Harper about it. She would have loved it when we were younger. It was stupid of me because…” I shut my eyes, fighting the panic rising through my veins. Every time I think about that day in the quad, my pulse starts to pound.

“The next day,” I continue, “I was sitting in the quad eating lunch with my friend Cody. I saw Tristan and Harper and a bunch of their asshole friends and—”

I take a deep breath, and understanding dawns in Serena’s eyes.

“He read it, didn’t he?” Serena asks.

I shake my head. “Harper did. But he was smiling and…Serena, this look he gave me… I can’t explain it, but it was like… It was like he was enjoying my suffering. I really think he might be a sadist.”

Her expression grows somber. “I’ve seen that side of him too.”

I nod. “Anyway, I’m telling you, it might seem paranoid that I think he’s out to get me, but the thing is, I have proof. He’s done it before. I honestly think he set out to get me that day in the library. To get information from me so that he could embarrass me.”

“But Harper did it too. It wasn’t just Tristan.”

“Yeah, but it’s complicated between me and her. She’s… I know she’s bitchy, but it always comes from a place of hurt. She resents me. I never liked her dad. I always told her I thought he neglected her and her whole family. I didn’t know he was an addict, or I would have never said anything so insensitive. Anyway, she didn’t like the things I said when he was alive, and after…”

She nods slowly. “She resented you after he passed away.”

I expel a breath through tight lips. “Yes.”

“But what does Tristan have against you? What did you do to make him want to hurt you?”

“It’s so weird, because I have no idea.”

She narrows her eyes, looking lost in thought. “Something’s not adding up. Tristan is selfish. I’ve never known him to do something for no reason. What could he have to gain?”

“Like I said, I think he’s a sadist.”

Serena smiles faintly as she starts tidying up the makeup products spread out all over my desk. “I’m not so sure about that. I’m going to watch him today for clues.”

I frown. “Clues about what?”

“About what he’s up to.” She zips up her makeup bag, meeting my eyes. “You can work on solving the escape room with the others. I’ll be trying to solve Tristan.”

I snort. “Good luck with that.”

***

“Ready for this?”

Tristan’s voice comes from behind me, making me jump. I turn to face him, and the visceral memory of our kiss flashes in my mind.

His warm lips against my skin. His deep, husky voice.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.”

I avert my gaze from those piercing blue eyes. The escape room is the only game event that actually sounds like fun. A puzzle is exactly what I need to distract myself from Tristan.

“Hell yeah,” I say, trying to keep my voice bland. “I love escape rooms.”

“That sounds like you.” Tristan’s soft tone of voice startles me. When I search his face, I see that kind, almost affectionate smile he’s been giving me lately. I quickly look away.

Thankfully, the director gestures for us to come inside the gym, so I’m not forced to stand awkwardly making conversation without eye contact.

“Let’s do this,” Tristan says, holding out his hand.

My cheeks heat. Why does he always try to hold hands with me on our dates? Before today, I thought it was just his thing, something he did with every date, but now he has other options besides me.

Oh well, I don’t want to look like it unsettles me. It’s obviously just part of his plan to make Harper jealous. I reach forward and grab his hand. The warmth of his palm sends electricity up my arm.

The other two girls walk with us through the doorway and into the dimly lit gym. Tristan got to pick three women for this date. Me, Serena, and some girl named Natalie. When I glance at Serena, she smiles, looking pointedly at where my hand is joined with Tristan’s, and my stomach flutters.

What will she say about this later?

After we’re led to the door of the room, I glance around the area, and excitement fizzles through my veins. Even the outside the room looks fancy. There’s a real antique table and lamp instead of cheap party-store props.

“You look like a kid at Disneyland,” Tristan murmurs, his face so close his warm breath brushes against my ear. “It’s adorable.”

Goddamn him. He’s so damn charming he could probably seduce a cactus.

“Alright, listen up!” The director claps his hands twice. “This is going to be a team-building exercise designed to test your cooperation and problem-solving skills.”

Anticipation flutters in my gut as I glance around at the other contestants. Serena isn’t the only one looking at Tristan and me. Natalie is as well.

I can’t imagine what she must be thinking, gorgeous as she is. She’s probably wondering why he’s holding my hand when I’m the odd one out?

“Here are the rules,” the director says. “You have a half hour to solve the puzzles and escape the room. Each puzzle you solve will give you a clue to help you find the exit. You must work together, or you won’t make it out. Tristan is going to see how well you’re able to work as a team. Remember, relationships are a team effort…”

The director keeps talking, some nonsense about how we can use this opportunity to impress Tristan, and I tune it out to avoid cringing. The way this school dramatizes the game is silly and contrived.

Still, I can’t believe I’m standing here—the contestant whose hand Tristan chose to hold.

The door to the room opens, and my heart races as I take in the scene before us—a dimly lit space resembling an old library, complete with dusty shelves filled with old, worn books and cobwebs that must be fake but somehow look real. In the center of the room, a massive wooden table holds various antique-looking objects.

“Remember,” the director says, his voice echoing through the room, “teamwork is key. Good luck!”

The door slams shut behind us, plunging us into near darkness. A timer begins counting down from thirty minutes, its glowing red numbers are one of few lights in the room.

Natalie glances shyly at Tristan. “What do you want us to do, boss?”

Tristan shrugs. “Let’s split up. You go work with Serena. Amy will be my partner.” He squeezes my hand.

Her eyes widen minutely. She glances at me for a moment. Her expression looks more perplexed than jealous.

“Okay, let’s start with the bookshelf,” I say. Tristan nods and follows me.

We search in silence, the tension between us palpable. Is he constantly thinking about the kiss too? My heart pounds as I reach for a book and Tristan’s hand covers mine. The sudden contact sends shivers down my spine.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but there’s a smirk on his face.

Damn him. He did that on purpose.

“No worries,” I say, trying to ignore my racing pulse. I run my fingers over dusty book spines, feeling for anything unusual.

“Hey, look at this,” Serena calls out, holding up an old map with strange symbols scrawled across its surface. “I think we need to find a key to decipher these.”

Excitement flits through my veins. “This is my favorite. I love figuring out codes.”

I rush over to the table where Serena lays out the map. “Okay, we need to look for patterns,” I say.

When I glance up at Tristan, he’s smiling softly, his eyes creased at the corners.

I frown. “What?”

“You’re so excited about these clues. It’s really cute.”

“Ew.” I wrinkle my nose. “Don’t call me cute for using my brain.”

“Never again.” Tristan chuckles. “Let’s solve this thing.”

Together, we pore over the map, analyzing every symbol and marking, trying to find a pattern. Certain symbols repeat themselves, and I quickly realize that they must correspond to letters in the alphabet.

“Tristan, look,” I exclaim. “These repeating symbols could be vowels.”

“Nice, Amelia,” he says, drawing out the syllables of my full name. I can see that he’s still amused by my excitement, and I don’t care. “She’s cracking the code, girls.” Tristan says as he sets a hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “That’s my girl,” he says in a hushed voice.

I glance up at him, meeting his blue eyes, and surprisingly, they don’t hold ridicule. He looks almost…sweet, and I can’t stop the surge of warmth rushing through my veins.

Men like Tristan are dangerous.

As I continue to figure out the clues, I run my observations by Tristan. He doesn’t help, but he watches me closely. My cheeks grow warm, but I try to immerse myself in the task.

“Hey,” Tristan says softly. “About yesterday… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

My heart thumps in my chest, and I try to gauge if he’s being sincere. There’s that vulnerability in his eyes that I rarely see.

Still, now is not the time for a conversation like this.

“Hush. I’m trying to solve this.”

He chuckles, and it’s a deep, warm sound. I never thought he’d be so gentle and sweet.

This must be his magic. This is why so many women fall for him when he’s such a dick.

I return to my task, grateful for the distraction. The warmth of Tristan’s body hovers near me, but it doesn’t unsettle me nearly as much as it did yesterday.

“Got it,” I exclaim, pointing at the final decoded message. “It says the key lies beneath the lion’s gaze.”

It’s so cheesy, and I don’t even care. My stomach is fluttering.

We quickly scan the room and spot an ornate lion statue on a shelf. Tristan reaches up and retrieves a small key from under its red eyes.

“Nice work, Amelia.”

“Thanks,” I mumble as warmth seeps into my cheeks. The way he says my full name sends shivers down my spine.

With the key in hand, I rush over to the door. I’m almost there when my foot slams into something hard. I yelp as I fly into the air, bracing myself for impact, but it never comes.

Big arms wrap around my waist, pulling me against a hard chest. “Slow down there, my excited girl.” Tristan’s warm breath tickles my ear.

“Th-thank you,” I stammer, my whole body taut. Our faces are mere inches apart, and I can’t help but get lost in the depths of his blue eyes. My heart pounds in my chest, and my breath hitches as I try to process the onslaught of emotions coursing through me.

“Your foot okay?” Tristan’s voice is soft and gentle.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“Good,” he murmurs, his gaze flicking to my lips for a brief moment before traveling back up to meet my eyes again.

The intensity in the room is palpable as we stand there, bodies pressed together, neither of us making a move to break away. My mind races.

This is only for the camera. He’s only touching me to make Harper jealous.

I can do this.

Tristan’s grip around me tightens slightly, and I can’t help but notice the way the muscles in his arms flex against my skin. His scent envelopes me, intoxicating and musky.

“Amelia.” His warm lips brush against my cheek ever so gently.

My thoughts scatter like startled birds. I push away from him, desperately trying to regain control over my racing pulse. “We need to get out of here before the time runs out.”

With trembling hands, I grasp the key tightly and insert it into the lock. As I turn the key, the door opens with a loud click, signaling our victory in the escape room challenge.

“We did it,” I shout.

“You did it,” Tristan says. He hesitates for a moment. “Tomorrow’s our next one-on-one date. Are you ready for it?”

The huskiness in his voice makes my skin heat. Our next one-on-one is going to be the “romantic” date. Serena’s was three days ago, and they had a candlelit picnic on the football field.

I’m not ready, but I have tonight to prepare myself mentally. I can’t soften toward him.

He needs to stop being so damn sweet.

I’m going to get my revenge before this is over. Nothing Tristan says or does will stop me.