Alley-Oops I Think I'm Falling in Love (With the Wrong Guy)

| ARIA |

"Aria, your boyfriend is here!" Benji squealed, his voice barely audible over the rap tunes blazing through the speaker downstairs.

I wrinkled my nose in annoyance and rolled over, snuggling deeper into my cocoon of blankets and pillows. I didn't have to get out of bed to feel the cold, blustery, touch of the weather outside. Despite being early morning, very little light filtered through the window across the room.

I had no sooner drifted back to sleep when Benji decided to Spartan kick my bedroom door open. It banged off the wall with a crash and I shot up, ready to commit murder.

Maggie swept into the room like a whirlwind, her lion's mane of hair a veritable mess. "Get up, you idiot!" She hissed, the panic in her voice giving me pause.

She cast a frantic look over her shoulder, down the hallway, like the Boogey Man were at her heels. I untangled myself from the wad of blankets and draped my legs over the edge of the bed, ears piqued for whatever had her so worked up.

All I could hear was the rhythmic pulsing of the bass, the muffled sounds of my brothers running amok—like every other Saturday.

And then I heard it. The color drained from my face just as Maggie turned back to me, her lips peeled back in a grimace.

There was no way, and yet, I'd recognize that voice anywhere—that low and steady timbre, the way he made every word feel like a command wrapped in velvet.

I immediately melted onto the floor, my heart leaping out of my chest. I was frozen—did I hide? Run? Cry?

If Benji let him in the house, I'd scalp him.

"What are you doing?" Maggie whispered, rushing to my side. "Your Dark Prince is literally in our kitchen right now and you don't even have a bra on!"

"Ugh... don't call him that, he's not my Prince." I  clarified, with a rigid shake of my head.

"I can't remember all your stupid little nicknames for him. Point is: He's downstairs and he's waiting for you."

I dropped my chin, inspecting my oversized t-shirt, wrinkled running shorts, and lone tube sock. My waist long hair was unbound and wild as hell.

Nope. This could not be happening, for a plethora of reasons.

"You have to get rid of him." I insisted, shoving Maggie towards the door. "Say whatever you gotta say, I don't even care."

Maggie bared her teeth at me, gesturing to her own pajamas, "Uh, no. This isn't my mess. This one is all you."

My eyes bulged and we wordlessly argued over who would see to the mortifying and rather ridiculous task of dispatching Roscoe Tate. He seemed to have a proclivity for inviting himself into people's houses, probably because no one ever told him no.

Lifting my chin in defiance, I stood and slithered back into my bed. Maggie watched with a horrified expression, like she was watching me self destruct and was powerless to stop it.

"He can babysit Benji for all I care." I grumbled, wrenching the comforter up to my neck. My heart raced on, ignoring the memo that I would not cross paths with the wily Prince downstairs.

"You dingus, be reasonable. Sophomore year is almost over and you haven't even gotten off the bench yet." I hit her with a flat look. "At this rate you're practically a spinster. Who knows what embarrassing secret Benji will reveal down there, and if what you say about the Darkling is true... well, he determines your overall desirability."