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North pulls me up on the bed, and we start to jump–not caring how loud we are or how ridiculous this might seem to an outsider.
I grab a pillow and hit his chest with it, he does the same back, and the next thing you know all six of us are darting around the room, pillows in hand. On the bed or standing on chairs or rolling on the floor, having the biggest pillow fight of our lives.
When the down pillows burst, it’s like time stills, as if we’re transported into a slow-motion film, and we don’t want to miss a single frame.
Thousands of tiny white feathers begin falling from the sky and we all stop, entranced as they float to the floor.
And something deep inside me tells me this moment is important. That this night matters. That these men–somehow, in some way–are mine.
The feathers from the pillows fall on our faces, our shoulders, down the front of my dress–an explosion of perfectly pure white feathers too numerous to count.
It’s like a dream; like magic.
I look around me, the men standing still, watching me intently. Sawyer steps forward, our eyes locked. The moment feels surreal, like anything is possible.
“You are so beautiful, little sparrow,” Sawyer says. And when he says it, I believe him. I close my eyes and make a wish. And when I open them, he is right in front of me.
And then, Sawyer’s hands are on my face, and my mouth is pressed against his and I forget.
Forget how I got here and where I am going. Forget my name and forget reality.
It’s suspended–all of it. I could say it’s the pillow fight or the new job or the feathers still falling across the room.
But that’s not why I forget.
I forget because, as Sawyer kisses me, my heart begins to beat faster and my mind is made up.
I am not going to stop these men, not any one of them. Tonight is my night.
And I’m going to celebrate however I like.
4
North
It’s too much. Too fast.
When Sawyer and Lark finish their kiss, I feel the
need to intervene. Sure, I initiated the pillow fight–but a kiss the day we meet? The last thing I want to do is scare her away.
When birds get scared, they fly away and never return.
So, when Brecken steps toward her, as if wanting to get into the action too, I know I need to intervene. He’s the biggest player I know. A guy who would sleep with any woman in this casino. To imagine him with Lark? I can’t; it just screams trouble.
“We should call it a night,” I say, knowing my tone is abrupt, but that’s okay. I don’t need to be everyone’s best friend. God knows I’ve never been before. The instructions Gaia gave us were clear-cut. Protect Lark at all costs.
Kissing her will make us lose focus. Distract us from the goal: Keeping her safe.
“So soon?” Lark asks, pulling in her bottom lip. She looks so damn sexy and the thing is, she has no idea. The strap of her flimsy sundress falls off her shoulder. Her jet-black hair is a tousled mess. Everything about her begs for a protective man to watch over her. And I’m not saying that in some male chauvinistic way. I mean, this woman is fragile and small and needs people watching over her.
That is why we are here.
Not so we can kiss her or whatever else. But from the way Brecken is looking at Lark, I’m guessing he has other ideas.
“No, Lark, we’re not ending the night,” Vaughn says. Okay, I guess more than one of us has other ideas.
“Like hell we aren’t,” I say. I lost the popular vote already: yesterday the guys voted to tell her why we came all the way out here in the first place. Wanted to tell her not only why we are here, but what we are.
I shut that shit down quickly. And it looks like I’m gonna need to be the buzz kill again.
“It’s not a question. She’s leaving. Now.” My word is final and they know it. When it comes to the performance, we may be equals – but when it comes to who oversees the flock as a whole – that role was given to me. And I’m not messing around.
The men are pissed, but that’s not my concern. Lark’s safety is all that matters. The men shake their heads and quickly say goodbye to Lark, who looks both disappointed and embarrassed.
“Can I take you home?” Vaughn asks, stepping forward.
Lark looks at the ground. “I’m fine. I know my way back to where I belong.”
Feeling dejected, the other guys leave the foyer of our suite and I take an extra second, wanting to tell her something... anything that will take that look off her face.
“It’s not you–” I start but she cuts me off.
