She felt the rush of comfort that his touch always gave her. She closed her eyes for a second and tried to believe what he said about jet lag. She had felt pretty drained after some of the long days at her mom’s firm. She knew better than anyone about parental expectation. He just needed to get acclimated to Westerly again. And after they spent some time together, he would be back to himself. He had to be.
“I did miss you, Scar,” he said. “Can you get out of here so we can make up for lost time?”
For a moment, all Scarlett wanted was to follow him out the door to PiKa House. But then she remembered the timing and cursed under her breath. “Mason, I can’t. Rush is tonight,” she reminded him.
“I know, but it looks like everything is under control.” He ran a finger down her arm. “So you leave for an hour, what’s the big deal?”
She put a palm on his chest. “It is a big deal. I can’t just abandon my sisters right before rush. How would that look?”
He frowned. “Who cares how it looks? We haven’t seen each other in months—”
“And whose choice was that?” Scarlett said.
“You could have come, you know,” Mason pointed out. “It would have been so fun. Two months together, no plans, no one to be accountable to except each other . . .”
“Well, unlike you, I didn’t want to disappoint my family,” Scarlett said, suddenly feeling exasperated. “I’m just not the kind of person who can pack up and leave my life for two months at a moment’s notice.” And I thought you were the same way, she felt like adding.
A line appeared between Mason’s eyebrows and once again Scarlett couldn’t help but worry that something was wrong. This wasn’t exactly the homecoming she’d pictured. A few seconds ago she had felt close to him again and then, just as suddenly, she felt space opening up between them. First Tiffany and now Mason. This was supposed to be her year. Why didn’t it feel like that? What was going on with him?
From the moment she’d met Mason, Scarlett knew that he was going to be hers—that she would do whatever it took to make him hers. But she had been sparing in using her gifts with him. She had done what any Raven would do: she made her skin more luminous, her hair shinier, her teeth whiter, her laugh more musical. But she hadn’t reached out once. Not into his head or his heart. It was a rule, of course, not to change the heart under any circumstances, but there was no rule against looking.
Tiffany always looked; it was somewhere between science and poetry for her. “How lucky are we to glimpse the human heart?” she once said. Scarlett had shaken her head then, but now, for the first time, she felt tempted. What harm would it do, just this once, to understand what Mason was thinking and feeling?
Scarlett reached up and ran a hand through his hair. As she summoned her magic, she felt a familiar flutter—this time, though, it wasn’t of love or excitement but of fear. Fear of what she would see. What if she looked and found less love than there should be?
No, Scarlett couldn’t risk it. And she couldn’t invade Mason’s privacy that way. That wasn’t who she was. But she could remind him just how good they were together. She moved her hand lower, ran it down his neck, then his back, then along his thigh. “I don’t have an hour, but I do have five minutes,” she murmured.
Mason’s eyes widened. “Here?” They never hooked up at Kappa; partners weren’t allowed in the house at night.
She flashed a single lingering backwards glance at him as she crossed her room and pulled the door shut.
“Scar—” Mason started.
But she was way ahead of him. She reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled his face toward hers. Any hesitation she’d sensed in him earlier melted at her touch, and his kiss turned hot, hard. He pinned her against the wall, one arm around her waist and the other buried in her hair.
She smiled against his mouth, her hands snaking down his muscular chest. Now this was the Mason she knew. This was the way things were between them. Soon he’d forget about leaving everything behind and traveling the world. He’d remember that they were exactly where they were meant to be. That they belonged here together.
“Time’s up,” she said after a few minutes, breaking away. His breath was ragged as she led him to the door.
“Scar, you’re killing me,” he said with a groan.
“Meet me tomorrow morning after our selection ceremony. We can finish what we started.” She hid a smile as he gave her one last kiss and then reluctantly turned to go down the stairs.
See? No magic required. He was already under her spell.
Chapter Five
Vivi
It took Vivi only fifteen seconds to realize that coming to the party had been a terrible mistake.
When she first stepped through the doors of Kappa, she’d been momentarily dazzled by the splendor of her surroundings. The rush party was speakeasy-themed, which was a natural fit for the house’s pale pink wallpaper and velvet-cushioned mahogany chairs. Everyone wore tuxes or flapper dresses; even the waitstaff, serving drinks in delicate porcelain teacups, were in 1920s outfits.
Everyone fit the theme—except Vivi. She wore a navy dress with sunflowers on it, the only dress she’d brought with her. Her empty social calendar back in Reno hadn’t exactly called for formalwear. She tugged at the hem, which she realized now had a stain on it, and eyed the laughing, dancing partygoers with a combination of awe and envy. Orientation week had begun just twelve hours ago. How had so many people made friends already? And how had every girl known to pack a flapper outfit? Across the crowded foyer, she spotted two girls she recognized from her dorm, but they were smiling and whispering confidentially, and years of being the new kid had taught Vivi what happened when you tried to sidle up to people midconversation.
Things at Westerly hadn’t exactly been going according to plan so far. Her roommate, Zoe, had finally arrived and promptly put a duct-tape line down the center of their room to delineate her space from Vivi’s. She’d also brought nearly a dozen candles, each of which had its own strong scent and none of which complemented the others, meaning that their room smelled like a mix of patchouli and sickly sweet vanilla. And when Vivi had finally mustered the courage to ask Zoe if she wanted to check out the dining hall with her, Zoe had barely looked up from her phone before mumbling, “Sorry, I have plans.”
The longer Vivi stood in the foyer of the bustling Kappa House, the warmer her cheeks grew. She’d spent so much time fantasizing about college, convinced that it’d be her chance for a brand-new start, and it turned out she was just as much of an outsider as ever. Maybe her chronic loneliness had nothing to do with always being the new girl. Maybe she was just too awkward, too weird to make friends.
She turned, about to retreat out the door, but someone barred her path. Vivi’s stomach flipped over like it used to during their stint living in LA when she’d spot a celebrity at the upscale mall in Calabasas. It was the girl with the mint-green dress she’d seen crossing the quad with two other Ravens.
She’d changed into a stunning white beaded dress, and her dark brown eyes seemed to glow with amusement beneath her long lashes, like she knew something that no one else did and enjoyed keeping the secret. “Hello,” the girl said, raising her eyebrows slightly as she gave Vivi’s outfit the once-over.