I swallow, fighting an odd mix of feelings, as I take her hand. “It’s okay to be different, sis.”
She stares at her small hand in my big one and fiddles with the leather strings around my wrist. “You’re not different. Everyone likes you.”
“That’s not true,” I reply, falling silent when she drops my fingers and stands back up.
“You’re popular, Zach. You date the evil queen bee, and your friends are the most popular footballers at college.”
“Well, I can’t be held responsible for the bad taste of the female population.”
She smiles reluctantly, and my own lips twitch.
“Trust me,” I say, standing up. “Ryan and Harrison are pigs. It’s only a matter of time until the women catch on.”
Neriah lets me pull her in for a rare hug. “Just be careful, is all. We don’t know Arkin.”
“I’m not interested in him like that,” she reassures me as she pulls away and tucks a lock of purple hair behind her ear. “He just seems… different.” She gently pushes my shoulder, a smile peeking out again. “Good different.”
Relieved, I smile at her one final time before exiting her room. I stop with my hand on the doorframe. “Amy is not an evil queen bee.”
Now, my sister truly scoffs. “She’s the worst, Zach.”
Chuckling, I leave her alone, rubbing my neck on my way to my bedroom. Fuck, I’m exhausted.
A sound wakesme in the middle of the night, and I blink my eyes open. What time is it? It’s still dark. I’ve drooled in my sleep, and now there’s a wet patch on the pillow. I lift my head,bleary-eyed and half-groggy. The digital clock on my nightstand says it’s twelve minutes past three in the morning.
I rub my eyes but then pause when the sound comes again. What the hell? Glancing over my shoulder, I stiffen when I see Arkin squirming in his bed.
I’d completely forgotten about him.
He whimpers again, and I slowly sit up. Fuck, the guy’s having a nightmare, and it’s a bad one by the sounds of it, but if I don’t do something, he’ll wake my sister next door.
I wipe sleep from my eyes and carefully remove the quilt, the icy floorboards biting into my soles as I creep closer.
Arkin is breathing hard while his eyes move swiftly behind his eyelids.
It feels intrusive somehow to see him like this, his face clammy and pained.
I don’t know what to do, so I tentatively jostle his shoulder. “Arkin?”
I’ve barely touched him when I suddenly find myself on my back in his bed.
“What the fuck?” I blurt, my heart pounding.
Arkin hovers over me, but it’s the blade at my throat that has me breaking out in a cold sweat. His eyes are wild, and his muscles are tense everywhere.
“What’s with the blade, man?” I ask, my throat rolling with nerves. “It’s just me. Zach.”
Arkin’s shadowed face dips closer as his hard eyes sweep over my face, but he makes no move to climb off, and I soon become aware of his hard muscles and deep breaths.
“Arkin?” There’s a question in my voice. “Put the knife down.”
He readjusts his grip on the weapon, his body heavy on mine, and then a sudden, sharp sting has me sucking in a breath. He grows eerily still and watches me intently.
“Come on, man…” My voice is quieter now. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”
He inhales a deep breath and shifts his weight. Something hard digs into my groin, and I feel my own body respond.
This is so fucked up. Arkin has a knife to my throat—a fucking blade. Are my parents aware they invited a lunatic into our home? I doubt they are because they’d send him packing in a heartbeat if they knew he carried a knife.
