5

Harper’s POV

Blair was late again. I dropped my bag onto the desk she’d claimed for us on the first day of the semester and pulled out my notebook. Five minutes until class started.

“Mind if I sit here until your friend gets back?”

I looked up. The guy standing beside my desk was tall, broad-shouldered and wearing the Westwood Wolves football jacket. He has sand brown hair, warm brown eyes and familiar face.

“Go ahead.” nodded toward the empty chair.

“I’m Mason.” He slid into the seat, setting his backpack on the floor.

“I know.” I said and one of his brows lifted.

“You know me?”

“You’re always getting suspended with Declan.” I smiled despite myself.

“Fair enough.” A laugh escaped him.

“I don’t actually know what you study. I just know whenever there’s a fight on campus, your names somehow end up together.”

“I’d like to blame him but that’d only be half true.” He gave a cheeky shrug.

“So you’re admitting you’re the problem?” I raised a brow at that. He is charming.

“I’m admitting we’re both terrible influences.”

“That’s surprisingly self-aware.” I chuckled.

“It took years of practice.” He patted his chest like he was proud of it.

The conversation came easier than I expected. He asked about my major, complained about eight a.m. lectures and confessed he’d nearly failed statistics because he’d slept through the midterm. For the first time since yesterday, I forgot about Kings Manor, my mother, Theodore and Declan.

“So” Mason said, leaning back in his chair, “Blair wasn’t exaggerating.”

“About what?” I frowned.

“She said you have the driest sense of humor she’s ever met.”

“She’s dramatic.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“I’ll let you decide.”

“I like that.” He grinned.

The smile that tugged at my lips came without effort. The classroom suddenly went quiet and I didn’t notice at first. Mason did though because his smile faded as he looked past me toward the door.

I turned in my seat. Declan just walked in. His backpack hung lazily from one shoulder, his expression unreadable. His green eyes landed on Mason then on me. Then on the empty coffee cup sitting between us. Something hardened in his face as his jaw flexed once.

The air in the room shifted. I cannot explain it but one moment the classroom had been filled with chatter and the next it feels colder. Declan finally started walking toward us, his eyes never left Mason.

He stopped beside our row of desks. His gaze flicked from Mason to me before settling on Mason again. A slow, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Didn’t know you were into charity work.” He muttered dryly.

The classroom fell more silent. Even the students who were been halfway through their conversations looked over.

“The hell does that mean?” Mason frowned.

Declan didn’t answer him, he looked at me. The same lingering stare that always made my skin crawl. I pushed my chair back and stood.

“What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” His eyes finally met mine.

“Clearly something.” I frossed my arms in front of me.

“I was talking to him.” He slipped one hand into his pocket, completely unfazed.

“And you were insulting me.”

“I don’t remember saying your name.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Declan, seriously. What’s your problem?” Mason stood.

“I don’t have one.” Declan let out a quiet scoff.

He brushed past us as if the conversation bored him dropping into his seat at the back of the classroom. Not once did he look away from me and I hated that.

Class couldn’t end fast enough. By the time the professor dismissed us, my patience had worn thin. I was stuffing my notebook into my bag when Mason caught up with me outside the lecture hall.

“Hey.”

I looked over my shoulder. He rubbed the back of his neck with an easy smile.

“So…there’s a coffee place across the street. Wanna grab one?” He asked bouncing cutely on his heels.

Before I could answer another voice cut in. “Coach is looking for you.”

Both of us turned to find Declan standing a few feet away, his expression unreadable.

“What?” Mason asked with a frown

“He’s been asking where you are.”

“I completely forgot we had film review.” Mason muttered a curse under his breath. He looked back at me apologetically.

“I’ll text you?”

“Sure.”

“I owe you that coffee.”

I nodded wirh a smile watching him jog down the hallway. When he disappeared around the corner, I turned back to Declan. He was still standing there watching me.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged.

“You scared him off.” I accused because I know his games. This isn't the first time.

“I saved him.”

“From what?” I folded my arms.

“You.” His gaze swept over me before returning to my face.

“You’re delusional.”

I brushed past him, my shoulder knocking his as I walked away. I made it halfway down the hallway before I felt his eyes following me like always.

***

Declan’s POV

I caught Mason before he made it onto the field. My hand fisted the front of his jersey and shoved him back against the lockers.

“What the hell?” He snapped scowling at me.

“Stay away from her.” I ground out through gritted teeth and the haze of red I’ve been seeing since I saw them together earlier.

“Harper?” He tilted his head with a frown.

I didn’t answer and I watch a slow grin spread across his face.

“You’re serious.”

“I don’t repeat myself.”

“Dude, she’s your stepsister.” He laughed shaking his head.

“So?” My jaw clenched regretting telling them that piece of information.

“So she’s fair game.” He shrugged pushing me away.

“No.”

“Says who?”

“I do.”

“You’ve spent the last year making that girl’s life miserable. You don’t even like her.” He studied me for a second while speaking.

I looked away. That was all it took begore his grin disappeared.

“…Oh.”

“What?” I frowned.

“Holy shit.” He stared at me for another second then let out a quiet laugh.

“What?”

“You actually want her.”

“Watch your mouth.” I grabbed his jersey again.

“I get it now.” He slowly raised both hands.

“You don’t know anything.”

“Maybe. But I know one thing.” He pulled free from my grip.

He looked me dead in the eye. “You’re in trouble.”