The Elite Kings Club

living room, still in their same seats.
I pause, gripping onto the stairwell, and turn my head toward them, only to find Bishop looking straight through me. I’m not sure what these boys’ deal is, but it’s a little intense. Bishop has an angular face with high cheekbones and a jaw that could be sculpted for a Greek god. He has loose dark hair that makes my fingers twitch to run them through it, and piercing, dark, army green eyes. His thick dark lashes fan out across his perfect skin. His shoulders are lean yet are set with confidence. The dominance that surrounds him is evident, and once I realize I’m still ogling, my eyes widen in horror before I spin around and dash back up the stairs.
Closing my bedroom door, I place my plate on my study desk that sits beside the balcony door and sigh. There’s no way I’ll be able to stomach eating anything now. Climbing under my crisp linen sheets, I turn on the television that hangs on the wall opposite my bed and push Play on the next episode of Banshee before sinking into my pillow, my body finally relaxing after one long-ass day.

I’M COMING DOWN THE STAIRS the next morning with an apple jammed in my mouth, and my books clutched in my arm when I walk straight into Nate’s back. I take the apple out of my mouth. “Shit, sorry, I’m so late.”
“I know. How many episodes of Banshee did you watch last night?” he asks, collecting his keys off the kitchen table.
“I don’t know. I lost cou— Wait!” I throw my hand up. “How’d you know I was watching Banshee?” I hop up and down, trying to shove my foot into my Converse.
“I came in to see if you were okay when I saw light was shining under your door. You were crashed out by then. By the way, nice pick of TV show. Is Harry taking you to school?” He takes hold of my arm so I can lean on him to balance my footing before finally getting my foot into the damn shoe.
I hand him my books to hold and bend down to tie up my laces. “Yeah, he does every morning.”
I stand back up as he passes me my books and we make our way out the front door. “I’ll drive you. Doesn’t make sense not to. We go to the same school.”
I look down the driveway to see Harry not here. Crap. Chewing on my lip nervously, I nod. “Okay.”
He gives me a cheesy grin, his dimples popping out as he takes my hand and we walk toward his Porsche 918 Spyder. He beeps her, and I slip into the passenger seat, clicking my seatbelt on.
Sparking the car to life, he smiles. “You know... you made a little bit of an impression on the boys last night.”
“What?” I ask, shocked. “That was one of the most awkward moments of my life, and that’s saying something, because my life is made up of awkward moments.”
He laughs as I reach for the stereo. When it switches on, Dr. Dre’s “Forgot about Dre” shakes the inside of the car, and I quickly turn it down. “Jesus!”
He chuckles from his seat, watching me closely. “What? Don’t like old school hip-hop, sis?”
“Nothing wrong with hip-hop, but having it that loud will blow your eardrums. You should look at getting them checked, just in case you’ve already done damage.”
“If I had a hearing problem...” he smirks, dropping down gears and jolting us forward so fast my head slams back into the headrest, “...it wouldn’t be from loud music. It’d be from Little Nate penetrating women so good that it has them screaming bloody murder.”
I jerk away from him in disbelief. “Little Nate?”
His face drops. “What’s wrong with naming it Little Nate?” He almost looks offended that I laughed. I feel a little bad about that. Nate has a twisted bad boy feel about him, with added cockiness. But now he’s not playing fair, because when he pouts, it looks cute on him.
“Uhhh... the fact that you actually named it. And anyway, why would you want to name...” I point down to his crotch, and when my eyes travel back up to his face, I’m greeted by his cocky all-boy grin. His hand travels down the front of his ripped jeans as he clutches his junk. Oh, Lord. “Y-your...” I stutter. “For the love of God,” I whisper, shaking my head.
He teases, “Cock? Dick? Magic stick? The power shaft? The womb raider? The yogurt—”
I shake my head, cutting him off, “Elena is a sweet woman. How the fuck did you come from her?”
We pull into the private underground parking lot under the school, and I climb out of the car, shutting the door behind me.
“What’s your last class?” he asks, rounding the car and hooking his arm around my waist. I wiggle out of it. I’ve become aware over the last twenty-four hours how smooth things are around Nate, but I still can’t have his arm around me. I’ve never had many friends at other schools. He and Tatum are the first people, since before my mom snapped, to not have my past bother them as much.
“Um, I think I have PE.”
He nods as we begin walking toward the elevator that takes you to the school’s first floor. “I’ll pick you up from there. What do you have now?”
“Calculus.” I cringe, knowing Ally Parker and Lauren Bentley are in that same class.
“I’ll take you there now.” He nods toward the corridor.
I smile. Maybe I threw him off the boat a little too early. He’s only being nice to me. Nicer than most people are, anyway. “You don’t need to do that, Nate. I’m fine.”
He wraps his arm around my neck and pulls me into his embrace. “Well, since we’re siblings and all, it’s my duty to look after you.”
“Nate,” I groan, as we continue walking down the corridor that leads to