Don't You Wish by Roxanne St. Claire Read Free Book Online Page B

that.
    “Oh, don’t get all modest on me now. You are Ayla Monroe, baby.” She taps Trent’s seat. “Can we put the lid up, Try-Hard? This wind is totally wrecking an hour of straight iron.”
    Trent responds by gunning the engine, killing Jade’s hair and earning a middle finger from her in response.
    I laugh, and she spears me with a dirty look that’s more playful than nasty. “And of course A-list’s hair is perfect no matter what.”
    “It is?”
    “Bish, puh-lease. You have everything and then some.” The playfulness fades to dead serious.
    Okay, then. I have everything and
then some
. This is my first real clue that if this Ayla chick thinks she has a sweet life inside the mansion, it gets better outside.
    And better it gets.
    Trent ditches us the minute we park, surrounded almost immediately by a group of very cute senior guys. Jade tries to flirt with a couple of them, but they barely notice her. A few say hello to me, probably because I’m Trent’s sister.
    Or maybe not. The first little bits of attention kick up my heart rate as we cross the parking lot to a two-story Spanish-style building, past the sign that says JOHN J. CROPPE ACADEMY. Not because I’m nervous, or even a little apprehensive.
    I’m not going to lie—I’m totally psyched.
    And can I just say that if this all-five-senses-in-overdrive is a
dream
, then the other things I’ve been experiencing at night for the past sixteen years have been complete amateur efforts.
    I’m barely up the stairs, driven by that feeling of vague familiarity, when the smell of books and Axe mixes with the sound of kids shouting, F-bombs dropping, and the slam of locker doors.
    I feel eyes on me, a lot of them. And it seems that the kids kind of step back as I enter the main hall, a low rumble of conversation, my name spoken in a whisper.
    Is this what it’s like to be überpopular?
    “There you are.” A male voice, a big, warm body behindme, a possessive hand on my shoulder, the cloying scent of something much higher-end than Axe. “God, you look hot in jeans.”
    I slow my step, then stop, still not turning.
    “Didn’t you like the rose, babe?” Warm breath tickles my ear. “Or are you still pissed off about the whole beer thing?”
    Am I? Something is sending the skitters down my spine. Irritation or … attraction? Time to find out. Slowly I turn, and am face to face with … a chest. Sizeable, too. I lift my gaze to the throat, where an Adam’s apple moves up and down in a swallow. Then my gaze travels over a square jaw with just a hint of whisker, to steel blue eyes and dirty blond hair that falls over a forehead and kisses a brow.
    “You’re not pissed,” he says, a perfect smile mesmerizing me. “I can tell when you look at me that way.”
    There isn’t any other way to look at a guy this hot. I manage to inch back and cop a total attitude of disinterest. “Hey, Ryder.”
    He slides his hand around my neck, tunneling under my hair and instantly zapping every cell in my body. Instinctively I duck away from the touch. It’s too hot. Too familiar. So maybe I am pissed at him.
    “C’mon, Ayla. How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?”
    “Many, Rye-Bread.” Jade grabs my arm and tugs at me. “At lunch. We gotta go.”
    I almost laugh out loud, because Rye-Bread is exactly what Lizzie would nickname him. Not that Lizzie and I would actually ever breathe the same air as this guy.
    But Jade drags me away, a few kids separating me from Ryder. I’m not at all sure how I feel about this.
    “He’s gorgeous,” I say softly, the words out before I can really stop them.
    “Yeah, Ryder Bransford has always been your weakness,” Jade tells me. “But, dude, you want him to grovel, right? You told me you weren’t going all the way until he begs for mercy like a beaten dog.”
    “I said that?” I blink at her. “I love dogs. In fact, why don’t I have one?”
    She snorts a laugh. “You’re whack this morning, Ayla. Let’s