Reckless. Rich. Intoxicating.
I brush my knuckles against her cheekbone, her lashes fluttering against my fingers, and I have the sudden urge to lower my lips to hers. To taste her without consequence. There’s a foreign voice in the back of my head that I don’t recognize, screaming,“She’s yours! Claim her now!”
I remove my hand from her face before I listen to it.
I’ve never seen her like this, so…quiet,for one. But also, so innocent looking. So vulnerable. And I wonder again if I have her all wrong.
Or maybe, it’s myself that I’m misunderstanding. Is it hatred that’s driving me toward her over and over again, or something else entirely?
I head back downstairs to retrieve the bag Micah gave me, returning to her side and dropping to my knees at the edge of the bed where she’s sleeping peacefully. I read the directions that accompany the needle and tube contraption—and thank God there are picture instructions.
I’ve given my mother countless shots over the past year, so I’m no stranger to needles. But taking blood is something I’ve never done, so I mimic what I’ve only seen nurses do in movies. I search Chloe’s nightstand for something to wrap around her arm, reaching for a hair tie and sliding it over her wrist and up to her bicep. It flexes against her toned arm, and the vein on the inside of her elbow slowly comes to life. I run my finger across it, fascinated with the idea of having Chloe so helpless.
I glance up at her face, and she remains unmoving. She winces slightly when I poke the tiny needle into her vein, but she’s still fast asleep. I pull the plunger back and watch the little container fill with her bloodbefore flicking the tab to stop the flow as the diagram showed, gathering everything before pressing a cotton ball to her arm.
Retreating from her bedside, I flip the light off near the door, turning back to watch her breathe as the strand of lights twinkles softly above her head.
And then I leave the room and search her house from top to bottom for the validation I need to prove to myself that she is who I think she is.
12
Chloe
When the sun attempts to burst through the closed slats of the shutters on my bedroom window, I’m still on the fringes of a wet dream about Colin.
His warm hands circle my ankles, sliding slowly up the length of my legs and squeezing my thighs. I wiggle under his grip, and he smirks, moving his hand between my legs. I open for him, becauseobviously.
He pushes two fingers inside me, his face hovering over mine. His eyes flash with need and…something else. Something that looks a lot deeper than lust and longing. Like he’s finally allowed himself to feel the feelings I know he has inside himself. Like he sees all of me and chooses me anyway, his fingers curling inside me as he brings me toward the edge of release.
“It’s not what it looks like,” he says, which confuses me, because the movement of his lips doesn’t match the words coming out. “Someone drugged her,” he says in a hushed whisper, causing me to wake fully and sit up in my bed, the quick movement throttling my brain into a spin.
Colin’s muffled voice travels through my house, floating through my open bedroom door, each word another kiss against my skin.
“I was helping her get home, captain. Did you expect me to sit by and watch her get hurt?”
My heart swells at his words.He didn’t want me to get hurt.I don’t know what he’s talking about, but the fact that he’s admitted it out loud brews a storm of joy that sparkles in my toes and consumes my entire body in a flash.
I swing back my comforter, eyeing the dress on my body.Why did I sleep in this?And why is Colin in my house?
There’s a water bottle and a bottle of Advil on my nightstand. I roll a few into my hand, becausedamn, my head hurts.I check my friends’ locations next, and they both appear to be safe at their homes; which makes me feel better, but doesn’t exactly ease my confusion.
I run back through the events of last night as I pull myself from bed and change into shorts and an oversized t-shirt.
I was here at my house with my friends, trying to convince Stella that I wouldn’t let her or any of them get hurt in my pursuit of Colin. And then he was there, trying to keep his lips off mine as my friends watched from the sidelines.
Maeve said we were going to a party, and I certainly woke up like I’d been dressed for one, but I can’t seem to get past the fog in my brain that gets thicker around the time I started to get ready last night.
I descend the staircase, running a hand through my hair until Colin comes into view near my couch. His eyes widen, like even though he’s in my house, he didn’t expect me to be here. His phone is pressed to his ear, his body tense as the tinny sound of someone yelling on the other end of the line comes into focus.
“No,” he says, holding my stare, “you will not see my truck in her driveway if you drive by.”
I raise my eyebrows at his lie and continue into the kitchen, eyeing the plate holding scrambled eggs over avocado toast and the mug of coffee steaming next to it. I lift the mug to my lips, tasting it and then moaning, because it’s made exactly how I like it.
Maybe he made it for himself, but it’s mine now.
After his phone call ends, he circles into the kitchen, standing on the other side of the raised countertop over the sink.
“You lied,” I greet, taking another sip of the coffee and eyeing him over the edge of the cup.
