Taking The Reins Read online

  His mouth, turned up on the right in that killer smile which was obviously begging my forgiveness, was full and lush and made for kissing. And as I took in the shape of his lips, I realized in horror that I’d just licked my own.

  I quickly lifted my eyes to his, which darted up to mine a half a second later. Busted, he’d been looking at my mouth, too.

  Awkward. My face got hotter and redder and I kind of wanted to crawl under the check in table. But then I realized, unless I was having a stroke, impairing my vision, he was blushing, too. Which was pretty adorable in one of those high school teen movie moments.

  But still, I stood there paralyzed, trying to get my brain with the program, because deep down somewhere, I knew social protocol dictated I say something.

  Luckily, he came to the same conclusion. “I’m really sorry,” he repeated. “I’m totally late; I was supposed to be here like an hour ago, but I was helping this freshman get himself moved in and as I was running up, I tripped and…” he gestured toward me and took a deep breath, still huffing a little from his run.

  “You ran into me,” I said. Like it wasn’t obvious what had happened. But I said it with a smile, like he hadn’t knocked the wind out of me. Although even if he hadn’t, I had a feeling just meeting him would have rendered me breathless. As it was, my heart was racing and not just from the physical contact.

  “Right. Like I said, sorry about that.”

  I waved him off. “So you’re here to help with luggage?” I asked, holding my breath as I waited for his answer.

  Suddenly, he did a big flourish with his right hand, bowed in front of me and said, in a very stiff and British voice, “Willmont Leander Gareth Davidson at your service, ma’am.”

  I couldn’t help the smile. “That’s your name?” It sounded like a stuffy old man’s name. Not that I would have said that out loud, but all he was missing was “The thiiiiiiird” drawled at the end.

  He saluted and clicked his heels together. “Indeed, ma’am.”

  I laughed, suddenly picturing him in a livery outfit. Cute and funny? This guy was a heartbreaker for sure. I bet he even had a six-pack to round out the package. “Willmont,” I said, trying it out.

  He cringed and gave his head a shake.

  “Will?” I tried, giving him a sideways glance.

  He looked up, as if considering it. “Better, I guess,” he announced and then ripped the map out of my hand. He glanced at it and then at the front of the school. “Third floor?” he groaned. “I bet the girl behind you is on the ground floor; I should have been a few minutes later.”

  I felt instantly guilty and it was my turn to apologize. “Sorry. Isn’t there an elevator?”

  He frowned at me and then made a big show of flexing his arms like a bodybuilder, not that I could see any muscles through his Westwood Academy sweatshirt, but my imagination could fill in the blanks. “How am I supposed to impress all the new girls if I use the elevator? Hmmm?”

  “You’ll just have to do it with your wit and charm.” And by the way, mission accomplished, I didn’t say.

  He rolled his eyes and then gave me an incredulous look. “Nice try. I know your type. You’re all into caveman displays of strength and virility.”

  “Hardly,” I said, silently cursing that my voice broke on the single word.

  “Whatever,” he said and bent to grab a handle of my trunk, the weight of which obviously surprised him. “Jesus, are you sneaking your boyfriend in here, or something?”

  “No! I don’t have a boyfriend,” I blurted out. Ugh. Smooth one, Brooklyn. Like this guy is really interested. There was no way on this planet earth that this guy wasn’t already taken, with like fifteen girls in the wings.

  He glanced at me, obviously amused, and then looked away, scanning the crowd. Probably for his girlfriend…

  “Hey Jenks!” He hollered, looking toward another guy in a Westwood hoodie who was talking to Chelly as she consulted her clipboard. “Jenks!” he repeated. “Over here.”

  Jenks (First name? Last name? Nickname?) finally looked up at Will, nodding before turning back to Chelly. He said something to her and then nudged her gently with his elbow before coming over. The way Chelly smiled and watched him walk away from her, it was obvious she was checking out his butt and liking what she saw. I could hardly blame her (were all the guys from Westwood movie-star beautiful?) but it was a bit embarrassing, nonetheless. I caught her eye and she winked, obviously not quite as embarrassed. Maybe Jenks was her boyfriend; that little elbow nudge he gave her was telling and I couldn’t exclude the possibility that they were a couple.

  She sure could do worse; tall and ginger, with his Prince Harry good looks and a butt I hadn’t yet seen, but was Chelly-approved, he certainly held his own in the cute guy category.

  “Grab the other side, would you?” Will said as he leaned down again to grab the steamer trunk handle.

  “Where to?” Jenks asked, looking at me, not yet making a move to help Will with the trunk.

  “Third floor,” Will answered for me before I could open my mouth. “South wing.”

  Jenks groaned but then suddenly turned toward me. “We haven’t met, so I’m going to assume you didn’t choose a room at the very end of the third floor just to torture us.”

  The old, shy Brooklyn would have fallen over herself to apologize over the location of her room (which I had no control over) but the new Brooklyn decided she wanted to flirt a little more with this very cute boy in front of her. And his friend.

  I glanced at Will before looking Jenks in the eye and saying, “As a matter of fact, I did it just so you boys could impress me with displays of your strength and virility. I am a cavewoman at heart, after all. Carry on.” I waved at the trunk, feigning impatience.

  Jenks looked at me like I was insane, but Will barked out a laugh, making me feel clever and a little bit powerful. “I like you,” he said, picking up the trunk. “Come on, Jenks, you heard the lady…er…cavewoman.”

  Before picking up the trunk, Jenks turned to me and stuck out his hand. “Evan Jenkins, since that clod over there didn’t see fit to introduce us.”

  “Hey,” Will said. “I would have.”

  We both turned and looked at him, waiting.

  “Evan Jenkins, this is…” he looked at me for help, since he must have realized in that second I hadn’t told him my name.

  I smirked and held out my hand. “Brooklyn Prescott. Nice to meet you.”

  Evan smiled. “Likewise. Now let’s get this ridiculously heavy trunk upstairs.”

  “Brooklyn,” Will said, like he was considering my name, the same way I had his only moments before. “I like it.”

  “I’m glad it meets your approval,” I said, enjoying our banter.

  “Come on, you two,” Evan protested, picking up his end of the trunk. “You can flirt on the way.”

  I almost choked on my own saliva.

  Running ahead of them so I wouldn’t have to respond to Evan’s remark or worse, acknowledge it in front of Will, I led the boys up the concrete stairs, through the open doorway and into the Rosewood main building.

  From the research I’d done online when my parents told me I’d be attending, I knew the dorms were in this main building, along with administrative offices, dining hall and some of the smaller classrooms. Behind it was the rest of the campus, scattered about in several stone buildings, many that were smaller copies of this one. There was also a running track, baseball diamonds, soccer fields and a whole indoor sports complex, with an Olympic sized pool, squash courts and a full gym. Not to mention the stables—what I was most excited about. I’d had to give up my equestrian lessons when we’d left the States—Mom refused to drive in England, and with Dad always off at his meetings, I was stuck without any way to get to stables. But now that I was attending a school with horses, I was eager to get back into riding.

  “The service elevator is just up there on the right,” Evan said from behind me as I stepped into the marble
d lobby, his voice echoing off the high ceilings.

  I turned to look at the boys and shook my head. “You’re going to use the lift? Really? So much for impressing me.”

  “Screw that,” Evan said, smirking. “I’ll impress you with my appreciation for modern technologies.” He jerked the thumb of his free hand toward Will. “If Mr. Dark Ages wants to impress you, he can haul your trunk up the two flights of stairs on his own. And,” he gave Will a wide-eyed look. “May I remind you those two flights each have landings—fourteen foot ceilings, and all.”

  Amused, I glanced at Will.

  “Dude,” he said shaking his head. “I don’t want to make you look bad when I put this thing over my head and carry it up the stairs like Atlas. I wouldn’t do that to you; we can use the elevator.”

  Then he looked at me and winked.

  Rendering me speechless.

  Celia

  As it was move-in day for everyone on campus, we had to wait our turn for the elevator, which meant more time with Evan and Will, which I was definitely okay with. The way the guys joked with each other, it was obvious they were friends, which made it even more fun to hang around with them. And it sort of took the pressure off me to carry a conversation. A good thing, since being with them was a bit overwhelming.

  They did ask about me some, though, surprised to find out I’m American.

  “But that accent,” Will said. “It’s so…”

  “Dodgy?” I finished for him.

  “Charming,” Evan said at the same time.

  Will shook his head and stared into my eyes. “Sexy,” he said. I had to look away, unable to handle the intensity in his gaze. If he was flirting with me like Evan had said, I loved it, but it was a little overwhelming at the same time. I’d never been drunk, but maybe this is what it felt like; like my insides were vibrating and I wanted to jump up and down. In private, of course.

  Still, I was beginning to really understand what made girls get stupid over attention from guys. Will was definitely making me feel like I could get stupid over him.

  Luckily, the elevator arrived at that moment, the ding interrupting the tension between us. The guys picked up the trunk and shuffled into the elevator car, putting it down, so they could turn around. I entered last with my backpack and carry-on spinner, turning around quickly to face the door so I wouldn’t have to look at Will, but as the halves met together, I realized it was mirrored. Will caught my eye and smiled. I looked down at my hand resting on the handle of my luggage, silently willing my heart to stop thudding in my chest, because I was almost sure he and Evan could hear it.

  Next thing I knew, there was a soft rustle of clothing and Will was pressing his hand on my shoulder, his scent—part cologne, part laundry, part boy—wafting over me until I had no choice but to breathe in deeper, my nostrils flaring. My head turned toward him and I almost fell into a daze, sure he was going to pull me into his arms. Waiting, hoping.

  That’s when I realized what he was actually doing; I’d forgotten to push the button for the third floor and he’d leaned over me to do it.

  How utterly humiliating.

  “Sorry,” he said as the elevator jerked into motion. “I didn’t think you’d want to be stuck in here all day.”

  “Of course not,” I said, my voice cracking as I shook my head and spit out an excuse. “I was worrying about my schedule. Sorry to be daft.”

  Finally, after what felt like the longest ride in the history of lifts, we were let out on the third floor. Evan told me to turn left and I preceded them to the very last room on the right. I knocked, but then remembered my key card and slid it into the reader, the light turning green and unlocking the door with a soft ‘shunk’.

  With a held breath I pushed open the door, super excited and nervous to meet my new roommate, the famous-adjacent, Celia Thomas. But the room was empty. Of people, at least. It seemed to be a lot more filled and decorated than it should have been for one person. Apparently almost-famous girls have a lot of stuff and like to spread out, I thought.

  “So, where do you want this?” Evan asked, grunting as they pivoted to get through the doorway with the trunk.

  I moved deeper into the room, put my bags on the unmade mattress and stood to the side so they could get past me. There wasn’t a lot of room for the three of us to maneuver, but I pointed to the one spot on the floor that was big enough to accommodate the trunk and watched as they lowered it into place.

  “Very impressive,” I said. “Even though you used the lift.”

  Evan gave me an amused look while Will rolled his shoulders.

  “Thank you both. Really. I do appreciate your help.”

  “Anytime,” Will said, winking at me again and then opening his mouth as though to say something, but was suddenly interrupted by a girl coming into the room, pushing past him to stand in front of me.

  She was stunning, with her cafe-au-lait complexion and the kind of curly brown with multi-colored highlights hair that people paid a lot of money for in salons. I had a millisecond to wonder if her striking blue eyes were that color thanks to contacts, before I realized they were trained on me. And not in a good way.

  “Uh, hello?” the girl said, her face mashed up into a frown that made me want to hide in the tiny closet. Everyone hears about mean-girl celebutante-zillas, but you hope your roommate at a super-exclusive boarding school isn’t going to be one.

  So much for that. Without a word, Evan disappeared and Will gave me a wave before he ducked out too, leaving me alone with the girl who I supposed was Celia. Cowards. Not that I could blame them…

  Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to smile and stuck out my hand. “Hi, I’m Brooklyn, your new roommate. You can call me Brook, though.” Almost no one called me Brook, but in that second, I was desperate for her to like me and the nickname fell out of my mouth.

  “You’re not my roommate,” the girl said, glancing at my outstretched hand and ignoring it. “Kaylee is my roommate.”

  I just blinked at her. Tears pooled in the corners of my eyes, though I begged them not to fall—nothing could be worse than bawling in front of my (maybe) new roommate on my first day here.

  She exhaled and rolled her eyes. “Stupid registrar’s office. Kaylee enrolled late because her parents were on location in Africa, but Kaylee and I are always roommates. It’s nothing personal.”

  “Oh,” I said, still willing myself not to cry. Celia didn’t seem mad at me, but it kind of hurt to be rejected anyway.

  “It’s okay. It’s just a mix-up,” Celia said, slipping an arm across my shoulder and giving me a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll get it worked out. Didn’t you notice all her things were already here?”

  I looked around the room with new eyes. Duh, Brooklyn. “I guess. I sort of thought maybe you just had a lot of stuff.”

  She laughed. “I do have a lot of stuff, but not this much.” She swiveled me toward the door. “Leave your stuff here and let’s go back down and get this sorted out. I’m sorry that you got all the way up here with all your things, but we’ll figure this out.”

  I looked at her beside me and smiled; she was being very uncelebutante-zilla-like. “Thanks. Really.”

  She shrugged. “Don’t mention it. You’re one of us now. Rosewoods look after each other.”

  Settling In

  Forty-five minutes later, my key card had been reprogrammed and a couple of different guys had followed me up to Celia’s room to move my trunk the four rooms away to my new (confirmed!) home for my stay at Rosewood. My new roommate, Emmeline Somerville, hadn’t arrived yet, so after much agonizing over the decision, I made the choice of taking the slightly less desirable bed on the left (the shared closet was on my side, so she’d have a bit more room for her stuff).

  Now that I was settling into my room, I was on my own until dinner. Celia had said I could come back and hang out with her and Kaylee, but although the new Brooklyn really wanted to, the old Brooklyn thought it was a good idea to unpack and not for
ce herself on the other girls.

  And anyway, the dorm rooms weren’t big enough to store trunks in, so I needed to get everything out of mine. The orientation package said any large luggage could be tagged and put out in the hall to be taken to storage. I didn’t want it to be in Emmeline’s way when she did finally show up, so getting the trunk unpacked was a priority.

  I didn’t know anything about Emmeline, other than her name and that she was flying in from Paris, or maybe Venice (there had been some debate about that at the check in booth) and may not arrive until very late. I’d been dying to ask Chelly and Celia about her, but it seemed kind of catty.

  Since she was entering her third year at Rosewood, Emmeline wasn’t required at orientation, but I got the feeling all the other girls were expected to have still arrived by dinnertime, although Emmeline, or perhaps her family, were held to a different standard.

  Which was pretty intimidating. I was nervous enough, but with each passing moment as I unpacked and organized all my things, my anxiety over my new roommate ratcheted up. Sure, all the girls had been really nice so far, but meeting your new roommate is a big deal and I didn’t want to screw it up.

  At 5:45 she still hadn’t arrived, but dinner was at six, so I quickly finished up and tugged my trunk out into the hall. With map in hand, I headed to the main stairs to go down to the dining room, which was on the main floor. But I wasn’t alone—the hallway was filled with girls, and I was suddenly swarmed, since I was the new girl. It seemed the third floor was all juniors, so everyone knew each other from prior years and all wanted to meet me. I introduced myself and tried to remember the names and faces of all the girls around me. There were one-hundred girls in each grade at Rosewood, so it was going to take some time before I’d know them all.

  It got a bit overwhelming, but suddenly I heard my name from behind me.