Page 84 of Ignition

“Fuck off,” I muttered, though it had zero bite.

Bzzzt.

P: Where you at? Zumba’s calling

Shit!

A glance at the large ornate clock on the wall told me it was nearing midday.

I dragged a hand over my face and typed fast.

M: on an errand. Before you pout, it would’ve bored you

My teeth caught the corner of my bottom lip before I glanced his way, just in time to see him deftly slide a card into his wallet. Irritation roiled inside me, tangled with something else I didn’t want to inspect, but panic shoved it aside.

“I gotta go. Pri.”

I gestured vaguely towards the door.

Goose pimples rushed along the sides of my neck as he helped me into my coat, before he shrugged into his.

His hand found the small of my back as he led me outside, kicking up heat down my spine, before a sweet and practised voice screeched us to a halt and his fingers slid off me.

A tall brunette had just called his name, adding something that sounded like “It’s been a while,” though I couldn’t be sure. Everything sounded as if we were underwater for some reason.

Slim, elegant hands pushed a glossy lock of hair away from her face as her gaze flicked to me, sharp and assessing.

My chin tipped up, and I stared her right back down, stomach bottoming out two seconds later when I’d found nothing to criticise. She was polished from head to toe, dressed in that old-money elegance Pri and Josh had mastered: soft black sweater over a white, perfectly pressed shirt, woollen skirt, and heeled boots that turned her legs interminable.

She, in turn, found plenty lacking in me, by her tight smile and the way she faced him, dismissing me with a slow blink. Her expression turned expectant, and apprehension pulled my hackles up.

Who’s this?

He scrubbed a hand over his face, as though he’d rather be anywhere else, and suspicion sharpened inside me, cutting and snagging on my insides.

“Oh, Alice, this is Mia… my—classmate.”

Something clanged in my ears, like a door snapping shut, or more accurately, the sound of him shoving me in a box and closing the lid.

Inside, it was dark and suffocating.

By the curl to her lip, she wasn’t convinced. Not because I could be anyone to him—clearly she was closer to his type than I ever would be—but because of something in his expression, in the way his eyes shuttered and skittered away from hers.

She opened her mouth as if to ask more questions, but Josh cut her off.

“Sorry, we’re in a bit of a hurry. We need to get back to campus.”

A lesser woman would have let that lie, but she arched a brow at him and smiled.

“You know, I’ve been waiting for your call.”

She brushed an invisible lint off his shoulder and lingered a fraction too long to be anything other than intentional—a polite shove-off directed at me.

“Let’s get together sometime soon,” she trilled. Then, she leaned in and gave him a peck on each cheek, and me, an overly sweet smile that felt like a door slamming in my face, before she ambled away with the grace of a ballerina in bespoke clothes.

My footsteps rang louder than they should, though I wasn’t sure where I was going. My vision had blurred red. I couldn’t say why—or didn’t want to—but the thoughts crashed into me like relentless, cruel waves, uncaring:

Had he brought her to the same hotel?