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“He’s so annoying,” I grumble, shifting the handle of my bag higher onto my shoulder.
“Yeah, he is.” Foster quietly sighs, then steers me out of the kitchen and into the foyer.
I get the weirdest vibe that he’s… disappointed in me?
He stays rather quiet as he collects his car keys from off the table. Then he puts eye drops in my eyes and his. The silence only grows as we head outside and get into the car. I expect Easton to break the silence, since he’s such a chatterbox, but he’s busy texting on his phone for most of the drive. The longer the silence stretches, the more I sense something is off between the two brothers. And the feeling is flowing through the link, which means they’re probably too distracted to block me out. I can’t figure out what’s bothering them, though, and it starts to drive me crazy. So does the silence.
As we’re cruising down the road and I’m stuffing my face with French toast and drowning in the feeling of off balance between the two of them, Foster’s stomach suddenly lets out the loudest rumble.
I pause mid-bite, latching onto the opportunity to break the maddening silence. “Are you hungry?” I ask him.
He shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good.”
“He’s so full of shit. He didn’t eat breakfast,” Easton tells me, sliding forward in the seat and putting his phone away.
I secretly breathe in relief at the noise. Thank god. I don’t think I could’ve dealt with their silent tension for much longer.
I move the forkful of French toast I was about to eat toward Foster’s mouth. “Here. Have some of mine.”
“I’m good,” Foster insists. “I’ll just grab something from the vending machines.”
I leave the fork right where it is. “Just take the bite. There’s more than enough on this plate.”
His gaze slides to mine, and then he reluctantly opens his mouth and I stick the French toast in it, getting a glob of syrup on his lips. He licks it up, looking at me for an unnerving amount of time before focusing back on the road.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” I take another bite then feed him the next one, doing it over and over again as we near the school.
“You guys are disgustingly cute,” Easton finally whines. “Seriously, you’re going to turn into one of those lovey-dovey couples, aren’t you?”
Couple? We’re not a couple. We’re just friends.
Sure, we hold hands a lot, and he sleeps in my bed. Not to mention I just fed him breakfast. None of those things I ever did with Nina or Gage …
Shit, we kind of do act like a couple.
But I’m not sure what I want to be with Foster. Honestly, I don’t know what I want at all. Everything is so new to me.
“We’re not …” I trail off as Foster slows the car down at the end of at least a half-mile-long line of cars backed up from the school’s gated entrance.
“What’s going on?” I ask, putting the plate down on the dashboard and scooting forward in the seat.
Foster shoves the car into park. “I have no idea, but we need to find out because this looks sketchy as hell.”
“Yeah, I know.” Easton fishes his phone out of his pocket. “Let me text Jane. She always gets here really early and might know what’s up. Although, she was ignoring my other texts this morning. Hopefully, she’ll respond this time. I think she might be pissed off at me.”
Foster surveys the line of cars in front of us with concern. His worry makes me anxious, which causes the clouds to react as a storm blows in and sends rain down on us.
“Shit,” Foster mumbles, his gaze gliding to me as someone honks a horn. “Sky, you need to calm down. If the storm gets too bad, everyone’s going to start wondering what’s causing it. Just take a deep breath, okay?”
Dammit! I’d been doing so much better lately. I thought I was starting to get the hang of controlling my powers.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I don’t know why I’m losing control of them so badly right now.”
“You’re fine. Just keep taking deep breaths.” Foster shuts off the engine, twists to face me, and cups my face between his hands, his skin warm against mine. “Just try to focus on being calm, like when we were in the bathroom the other day and your powers were at peace.”
“But we built a little world when that happened,” I remind him, draping my hand over my waist.
