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Heat.
Cupboard.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Heart erratic in my chest. Heat rolling down my cheek, painful pinching in my gums, even my teeth feel bruised. Everything hurting and aching and sore. But I ignore it all for thoughts of the man I know to be in the hall.
Raiden’s grey gaze funnels into my mind’s eye without even having to try summoning visions of him. His light brown skin, glistening with beads of sweat, the roll of his hips, the feel of his braids against my face where he hovers over top of me. I see it all, feeling it all, my belly rolling with a dangerous mixture of want and anxiety.
He’s actually in the corridor. Here. Outside ofmyclass. Something none of the other boys take, but maybe he hasanother friend in this class he’s waiting on. Perhaps, he’s not here for me at all.
My eye blurs and I blink to clear it, a couple more blinks until I can see and then it’s okay.
‘Let me take you to Urgent Care.’
‘Let me stay with you, Poppy.’
‘You don’t forgive me, I don’t want you to.’
‘Hate me tonight, Lollipop, and then hate me again in the morning, but let me stay.’
Today it all feels like I let myself down. All of Bennett’s words really translating aslet me love you even though I hardly know you and I tried to ruin your life.And I just saidokay.
We cuddled.
And I didn’t hate him.
Not even a little bit.
I hated myself, though.
All I could think about was Lynx. How he and Bennett are such stark contrasts of each other in so many ways, but so much the same in others.
Yet, it was Bennett, the mastermind, that I took into my bed.
I shake my head, bundling books up into my arms, closing my computer, the snap of it making me flinch, dragging me out of my head and back into the room. I blink again, blurred vision, a swirl of sickness in my gut, but I grip my laptop between my fingers, slide it onto the very top of my book pile and straighten to fully stand, clutching it all to my chest.
I think I’m the only person in this class to have physical books and not an e-reader. Seems like a dumb idea of mine now, wantingrealbooks, when they’re such a ballache to carry without throwing them all over the floor as I juggle.
Turning towards the stairs of the auditorium, I shuffle past the now empty seats, peer down the length of my nose, through the blurred vision of my eye, over my stack, the cold metal ofmy computer pressing to my chin as I find the steps. Cautiously taking them one at a time as everyone else files out as quickly as they can. I’m halfway down when I feel him.
I don’t look up, but my feet still, pausing me in the centre of the steps.
“Princess,” King rasps, his voice gravelly and rough, not broken, but it feels like it’s damaged.
My eyes squeeze closed, bottom lip trembling.
“Kitten,” Rex drawls, lazily, but sad, so sad, and I can’t get my legs to work, my knees shaking at the realisation that he’s here too.
They came for me.
I stumble back, collapsing against the nearest desk. My books and computer clattering to the floor but I don’t care, bringing my hands up, burying my face into my palms. A deep, wracking sob stifled in the cup of my hands. Cold and clammy against my aching face.
Hands smooth over my shoulders, down my spine, a chest pressing to the top of my head where I bow forward, the other body wrapping himself around me. King at my front, Rex draping over my back, both of them holding me and saying nothing, and I breathe them in, through the humid breath in my hands, oranges, black pepper, and smoke and sugar. A mixture of scents that feel like home.
Strong muscles, and firm hands.
Warm and safe and mine.
