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That ought to do it. Without rinsing my mouth, without bothering to see what I look like, I reach for the doorknob, unlock it, and turn it open, the guys nearly falling inside as I the door opens.
“Stella,” he whispers, only I'm not sure whose lips my name falls from.
“You’re still here,” I scoff, pushing through the wall of muscle. “Get out of my way.”
I manage to get past them, heading over to my dresser and opening the top drawer, searching through my underwear for my little orange bottles. Only they’re not there.
“Looking for something?” Kai calls out, his voice laced with humor. But when I turn and catch him staring at me, all traces of humor are gone.
“Give them to me.” I mutter passively.
His eyes roam my body from head to toe, desire glimmering in the depths of his honey-colored irises. Beside him, Drake clears his throat, making us both turn to him. That’s when I realize I’m standing in front of two of the hottest guys of Servite Academy, in nothing but my see-through underwear.
No point in being modest now.
Ignoring them, I repeat myself, this time my voice laced with annoyance. “Give them to me.”
“No, and put some fucking clothes on, Stella.”
“Give me the fucking bottles, Malachi.”
“Come and get em, Dollface,” he teases.
“Alright, that’s my cue.” Drake grabs his tuxedo coat off my bed, slipping it on, disregarding his shirt. Slowly, he walks over to me, cupping my cheek in his palm. “Stella, promise me that if you really feel sick, you’ll let Kai take you to the hospital.”
“I’m fine Drake.”
“Promise me.”
I nod, unable to say those two simple words, but he accepts, heading out the door without another word.
The air in the room, tense and overwhelmingly grim, suffocates me as I try to make sense of what’s happening. I’m mesmerized by the look of hunger in Kai’s eyes as he watches me, slowly and steadily advancing toward me.
“G-give me the bottles,” I stutter, unable to pronounce the correct syllables and form a coherent sentence.
“I said come and get it.” Animalistic. That’s the only way to describe the guttural growl that leaves his body. It’s the only explanation for the goosebumps currently covering every inch of my heated skin. The only reason my nipples are hard, and my pussy is aching in need.
“Tonight, was the most humiliating night in my entire life, and that’s saying a lot since my life has been nothing but humiliating.”
Heat spreads up my legs when he reaches out to me, running his fingers over the mascara stains on my cheeks.
He leans in, his tongue grazing the skin his fingers were just caressing. “Sweetest of nectars, the tears of an angel.”
I close my eyes, reveling in his touch. “Cursed is the man who makes an angel cry. Blessed is he who makes her sing.” I remember the lines of a poem my mother used to read to me, one that, until this day, was pushed down into the depths of my subconscious.
His lips find my cheek, softly pressing against it. “Sing for me, Stella.”
It hurts. Every word, every false hope he delivers makes my heart ache like nothing I’ve ever endured. Not the fists of my uncle, nor the words of my tormentors. “I’m all out of words to say to you, Kai. This time it’s for real. It was over before it even began.”
“You don’t mean that.”
Mascara runs down my cheeks, tears I didn’t think I had left in me staining his lips. It’s time to throw in the towel and realize this isn’t going to end in my favor. “I do, I finally do,” I whisper, letting out a breath I’d kept in to diminish my sobs.
Opening my eyes, I find him staring down at me, a look of defeat taking over the earlier hunger. He’s content with my answer, unwilling to admit his feelings. I don’t understand what darkness could prevent him from giving me a chance to heal him. If only he’d trusted me, if only he’d cared enough to allow me to make his demons fade away.
Instead, he’s giving up. It’s high time I do too. Though my pride won’t let me go without the truth, even if it’s just to hurt me. “Just tell me why. Why didn’t you go with Casey?”
Kai steps back, unable to look me in the eye. “I didn’t want Casey. She’s old news. Used and discarded like the worthless tramp she is.”
“Why Carrington?” I continue, begging for answers I know I won’t like.”
“Why not?”
His nonchalance is deafening. “Why didn’t you ask me?” There it is, the question I’ve wanted to ask for weeks, yet never found the courage to utter the words. It’s now or never. Despite his response, I’ve made up my mind.
He reaches for my hand and places an empty bottle of pills in my hand. “Let’s not kid ourselves Dollface, like you said, you and me, it was over before it even began.”
