The Elite Kings Club
my closet, unclip my current bra, and snap on a strapless. When I step back out, I say, “Tatum, did I tell you how much I hate you for choosing this dress? I don’t do dresses.”“Good thing I gave you wine beforehand then.” She winks, curling her hair, as Tillie leans over the sink in the bathroom, doing her makeup.
“This was your plan?” I look at her with fresh eyes. She’s sneakier than I ever imagined.
Tatum taps her head. “You’ll never know.”
Hmm, sure I won’t.
“So,” Tillie says from the bathroom, “I’ve never been to an elite party before.”
I halt, dress clutched in my hand. “What?” I ask lightly.
“You know,” Tillie lines her eyes with black, “an elite party.”
“You mean figuratively?”
Tatum rolls her eyes, letting her long, blonde fresh curls drop over her slender shoulders. “No. She means Elite, Madi. We’ve had this discussion.”
“Wait, how do you even know about that?” I look back toward Tillie.
She stops what she’s doing. “We’ve all heard of them, Madi. I didn’t realize your stepbrother was Nate Riverside, though.”
“Are you judging me?”
She stops and spins to face me, horror flashing over her freshly marked face. “God, no, Madi. No. I was just surprised when I pulled up here. That’s all.”
I nod, turning back to hold my dress. If Nate and his boys cost me a friendship, I’ll have to kill him for real. I have a hard enough time making friends—not that I actually care—but I happen to like Tillie, so I don’t want to lose her friendship. “By the way, whatever you heard about them, it’s not true.”
“Is so.”
“Tatum, shut up.” I look back to Tillie with a smile. “It’s really not. They’re not all that interesting.” I don’t know why I feel the need to protect whatever the fuck I’m protecting, but I’ll blame it on the wine again.
Tillie shrugs. “I don’t know much, only rumors, and of course, Bishop Hayes used to date a girl from my school.” My heartbeat slows, thickening my blood. “And everyone knows who The Elite Kings are. Also,” she adds casually, “Nate and Cash are always at Backyard Bucks, and as usual,” she says casually, lining her lips, “Bishop is always ripping through the streets.”
“What, what, and what?” I ask, stepping closer to her and shimmying into the tight red strapless dress. It’s thin, snug, and has a deep dip over my sternum, showcasing my cleavage.
“You know, Backyard Bucks Octagon, and Bishop, racing?” She looks at me, waiting for me to catch on.
Tatum looks at me sideways. “She’s new. She’ll figure it out.”
“I’m sorry.” I clear my throat, signaling for Tatum to zip up my back. “Did I get this right? Nate in an octagon, and Bishop races what? Cars?”
Tatum starts applying makeup and acting like she isn’t inhaling all the drama and new information. I know this is news to her too, because her mouth is shut and she has her ears tuned in to our convo.
“The races,” Tillie says ashamedly, almost like she thinks she’s not allowed to put her foot in it. Tatum starts applying makeup to my face and fluffing up my natural waves. “I assumed you knew, because, well....” She gestures around the place. “I only know because my sister occasionally sleeps with Jase, Hunter’s older brother. I heard them talking about it, so I snuck out and followed them one day.”
My breathing slows, the information sinking into me. I whack Tatum’s hands away from my face. What the fuck is with these boys?
“Because otherwise, that’s super confidential information. I don’t even know why Jase would’ve told my stupid sister, and please forget I ever told you.”
Tatum holds up a pair of hoop earrings in front of my face. “Earrings?”
My face falls in a death glare. “Hold them.” I get to my feet and storm out my bedroom door. I don’t care that my makeup is only half done and my hair is in a thick mane of soft waves down my back, or that I have no shoes on. This is my fucking house anyway. I fly down the stairs, the deep, slow, dark bass of “Devil’s Night” by D12 already shaking the chandelier that hangs in the foyer. I round the corner to the living room, so fucking angry I want to hit something, preferably all of them, until they tell me what the fuck is going on.
I halt at the opening. They are all lounging around already, with Ally and Lauren stretched over their laps—or should I say, Ally stretched out over Bishop’s lap. Awesome. I needed to hit Tatum for saying he isn’t a manwhore and that he is fussy. Lies. No fussy man would have that dirty slut stretched out across his lap.
Okay, angry Madi is about to rear her ugly head. Maybe another glass? Or bottle... because you’re classy like that. Nate is stretched out, with a bong in one hand and a cigarette in the other, grinning at me. Looking beside him, Hunter’s chopping up white powder on the coffee table and rolling up a hundred-dollar bill. I shiver, not wanting to touch that subject right now.
Bringing my eyes back to Bishop, I see Ally purr against his chest. “Why’s she coming?”
Bishop’s jaw clenches, his eyes staying on mine as he strokes Ally’s hair. He wraps her long mane around his fist, yanking her head up to face him, all while his eyes remain on mine. Locked, entranced, and fucking hypnotic.
He slowly drawls his tongue out and licks her across her bottom lip. “I don’t know, babe. Maybe you should ask Nate why his annoying little sister is coming tonight with her annoying little friends.” He sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, catching it between his teeth, before pulling back roughly. She moans shamelessly—fuck everyone else in the room.
Heat mixed with anger pulses through me. Calm breathing, Madi. Fuck him.
I look to Ally, a grin slithering onto my mouth. “Oh now, now,” I tsk, my poker face game strong. “Don’t act like his kisses