Page 68 of Hallowed Bones

As soon as Lyall is out of the door, I thrust it shut behind him and turn around to press my back to the wood.

“What”—Elodie steps in front of me, feet shoved apart, hands on her hips—“the fuck was that?”

I raise a finger to my lips. “He can still fucking hear you,” I hiss.

A thump lands on the other side of the door, jostling my back. “Yes, I can, Rabbit,” Lyall’s deep, rumbling voice echoes through the barrier between us. “And the clock is ticking. If you’re not out here soon, I might decide to eat you.”

I slap the solid door without thinking better of it and then gasp, shaking the pain from my hand. Asshole. Shoving away, I hurry to strip off my relaxing clothes as Elodie gestures wildly to the door and back to me. Now that it’s clear that the insulation of this room doesn’t really work against Lyall’s sensitive hearing, she doesn’t speak any higher than a whisper as she trails me around the room.

“You’re going on a date with Lyall Corey?”

Bouncing up and down as I yank jeans onto my legs and over my ass enough to button them, I wave her off and snatch a hairbrush from my desk, yanking it through the tangle of locks around my face. “It’s not a date.”

Another thump lands on the door, making both of us freeze for a few seconds. “It’s totally a date,” he calls through the wood.

I glare at the door.

“Are you sure?” Elodie asks as I finish yanking the brush through my hair and grab a scrunchie from my desk, tying my hair up into a loose ponytail. A thread of white dances in front of my eyes as the lone blond streak falls right out of the tie. Blowing it out of the way, I go in search of my shoes.

“Don’t listen to him,” I tell her. “It’s not a date.”

“If it’s not a date, then what is it?” she asks, folding her arms and sitting on the edge of her bed as she watches me hop around like a psycho with one foot shoved into an untied sneaker.

I collapse on the edge of my bed and finish tying my shoe as I contemplate my answer. “It’s a family thing,” I finally decide.

“‘A family thing’?” Elodie arches a brow in suspicion.

Thankfully, Lyall doesn’t respond from the other side of the door, which, in my opinion, actually lends more credibility to the partial lie.

“Yeah,” I say. “Lyall’s dad knew mine, and I guess actually all the Sons of Salem’s dads knew mine. I’m just trying to find out more about my dad’s history here.”

She stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have. Avoiding her intense gaze, I finish lacing up my final shoe and reach for a small cross-body bag, tucking my phone inside along with my wallet and dorm room key.

Elodie reaches out and snags my wrist as I stand up to leave. “Just…” Her eyes slide to the door and back. “Be careful?” She swallows. “You know they still haven’t caught who or what killed Jonah.”

Softening immediately at her concern, I cup my hand over hers. “I will be,” I say. “Promise.”

Elodie nods and releases me. I head for the door, swinging it open to find Lyall not against it at all but instead directly across from it. Had he moved to give us more privacy, or was it a last-minute thing? I narrow my eyes on him regardless.

His gaze drags over me, lingering just a second too long on my outfit. “Ready?”

“Yup.”

He peels off the wall like he’s got all the time in the world, extending his arm with mock elegance. “Shall we?”

I eye the offered arm, brows raised. “You’re joking.”

“Dead serious.” That smug smile of his doesn’t budge.

Cautious—though I tell myself I shouldn’t feel guilty for it—I slide my arm through his. We move in sync, footsteps echoing down the corridor as he guides me toward the stairwell. He doesn’t let go until we reach the dorm’s front entrance. There, he steps ahead, pulling the door open with a smoothness that feels rehearsed.

“Chivalry? Bold choice,” I murmur as I pass.

“A lady always needs to be treated right,” he tells me. Once we’re outside and heading toward the student lot, he bends close enough that I feel a tingle as he whispers, “Nervous?”

I force myself not to jump. “Not at all.”

“Liar.”