Good Boy by Megan Lowe

Chapter 4

Windswept Academy is everything I thought it would be. Set on sprawling, manicured grounds, the driveway has to be at least half a mile long. I guess it’s building the anticipation so when you finally see the imposing five-story sandstone building you’re sufficiently awed. To me, it looks like just another stuck-up prep school. These places are nothing but a waste of money designed to make parents feels as if they’re giving their offspring the best opportunity at a future they’d be proud of, but which the kids couldn’t give a flying fuck about.

As we draw closer, the school looms large. Ivy covers one of the walls and some of the front, making it the most clichéd building ever.

“Ugh,” I say.

“I think it looks fancy,” Jase says.

I roll my eyes. “It looks like it has a giant stick up its pretentious ass.”

“Mom and Dad specifically outlined in their wills that if you moved to Chicago, this is where you were to go,” Amy says from the driver seat of her SUV.

“Because you’re so good at following their wishes,” I mutter under my breath.

She sighs. I guess I’m getting a little predictable in my comebacks.

“At least you’re only here for a year,” Jase grumbles.

I twist in my seat to face him. “Hey, you’re going to love it here. I bet you fit right in and make a ton of friends.”

“Why can’t you be that positive with your own life?” Amy asks.

“Because, unlike me, he’s still got his entire high school career in front of him. I don’t. This is my senior year. You remember what that entails, right?”

She shakes her head as she pulls to a stop. “I’ll be here at three thirty to pick you guys up,” she says.

“How motherly of you,” I retort, gathering my bag that’s at my feet.

Amy whirls to face me, her boring brown hair, so much like my own, flying everywhere. “Do you have a better suggestion?”

“I don’t know, Amy, maybe a car of my own? I am seventeen, legally old enough to drive, you know. Plus, think of all the time it’ll free up for you if you don’t have to worry about driving me and Jase everywhere. I mean, you’d be the real winner here, and we know that’s all that matters. Besides, I have my own money Mom and Dad left me.”

“That you can’t touch without my approval,” she reminds me. “But,” she continues before I can mount another argument, “let’s see how this week goes, okay? Yes, you having a car would be handy, but I’m not going to reward you, especially given your behavior lately.”

I try to hide my smile. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

The words have no sooner left my mouth when a monster, an absolute dream of a car, pulls into the student lot. The exhaust is so loud it drowns everything else out. The 1970 Chevy Chevelle SS is the stuff of legends. Mom and I dreamed of getting our hands on one and doing it up. Her dad used to work for Chevy and would tell her all about them every night when he came home from the factory.

The Chevelle in question is a beauty, but in a lot full of Ferraris, Aston Martins, and even a Bugatti, it’s a little out of place.

“Did you see that?” Jase asks. Even if I couldn’t see his face, the amount of wonder in his voice is hard to ignore.

“Mmm-hmm. She’s a beauty.”

Amy shakes her head. “Best behavior.” She points at me. “Prove to me you can be a decent human being, and we’ll talk.”

“If I do, can I get one of those?” I nod to the red beauty.

“No.”

“But—”

“I may not share your and Mom’s love for cars but even I can tell that that car is something you should not be in charge of.”

The retort on my lips disappears when the driver gets out. He’s hot, but much like his car, he doesn’t seem like your stereotypical elite private school boy. Actually, “boy” is probably the wrong word. “Guy” or “man” is more accurate, and boy is he all man.

Tall—I’m going to go with six foot two, six foot three—with short sandy-brownish hair, a solid body that is obviously worked for, and good Lord. I have to stop myself swooning as he rolls the sleeves of his white Windswept shirt up, revealing two full arms of tattoos. I’m not sure how one gets away with that, but I’m guessing a decent amount of cash, or perhaps a new library, has to change hands.

“Wow,” Jase whispers.

“Yup.”

“I’ll be back at three thirty,” Amy reminds us. “Behave and have a good day.”

I give her a salute before I shut the car door, and she drives off.

“Are you really going to try and get a car?” Jase asks as we stand on the sidewalk, my eyes still fixed on the hunk with the Chevelle.

“I said so, didn’t I?”

He shrugs. “You say a lot of things.”

I hook an arm around his neck and steer him toward the school. “Could you imagine taking a spin in that?” I nod back to the red beauty.

“The car or the guy?” Jase asks, his signature cheeky grin on his face.

I give him a shove but bring him back to me pretty quickly.

“Out of my way, pretty boy,” a behemoth says as he shoves his way between my brother and me.

“Ugh, rude.” I sigh, but keep on walking. I don’t want any trouble here, I just want to do what I need to do in order to get out of here.

From behind us, he chuckles. I turn to face him.

He’s tall, maybe a little taller than the Chevelle hunk. I’m going with six foot four, six foot five, with long blond hair that flops over his brows and the brownest eyes I’ve ever seen. I’m seriously starting to wonder if being ridiculously good-looking is a prerequisite for admission here.

“Is there a problem here?” he asks.

I hold my hands up. “Nope, no problem. Just, maybe, look where you’re walking?”

He shrugs. “You were in my way.”

“Possibly, but there’s plenty of space out here, I’m sure you could’ve walked around. But,” I say before he can interject, “it’s fine, we’re totally cool. Just be careful next time.”

He laughs. “Look, pretty boy, I’m not sure where the fuck you came from, nor do I care, but you’re at Windswept now. I don’t give a fuck who you are, but you’re under our rules now, and our rules say that if you’re in my way, I’m going to take you out of it.”

I hold up my hands again. “Hey, no harm, no foul. I’m new here and don’t want any trouble.” Normally guys like this would drive me mad thinking they’re better than everyone else but…. I blow out a breath. I don’t want any trouble. The more I say it, the greater the likelihood I’ll be able to stick to it.

“Let’s go, Con,” Jase say quietly, tugging my arm.

The guy with the Chevelle walks around in front of me, pausing for a second, assessing me before asking the blond, “What’s the issue here?”

“I’m just letting pretty boy Con here know the way the world works.”

He nods.

“Look,” I say, “we just want to get inside. We didn’t mean any harm or want to cause any trouble.”

“I’d say that’s a good thing,” the Chevelle hunk says.

I nod. “It won’t be a problem.”

“Hmm.” He grabs my chin, his blue eyes piercing mine, looking for I don’t know what. He lets my face go. “Stay the fuck out of my way.”

“Like I said, that won’t be a problem.”

“Good.” He pushes past us and walks toward the building.

“Stay cool, little Con,” the blond pit bull says, slamming into my shoulder yet again when he walks past.

“Those guys are dicks,” Jase says once they’re gone.

“Mmm,” I agree. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to fuck one or both.