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“What aren’t you telling me?” He closes the distance between us, reaching for my cheek and brushing his thumb over the soft skin there. “Is Kingsley making you do things you don’t want to?”
“N-no, nothing like that. I just… he’s intense.”
Bexley goes rigid, his jaw clenching painfully tight. His eyes fix on mine, as if he’s trying to unearth all my deepest, darkest secrets. “I don’t like playing games, Mia.” His words are a low whisper that sends shivers racing down my spine. “I had enough of that back in Sterling Bay, and it didn’t end well… for anyone.”
“It wasn’t a game, I promise. It wasn’t.”
“But you’re his?”
Silent tears drip down my cheeks as Bexley stares at me with utter disgust. He might be relatively new to Gravestone, but he already hates Kingsley. Most people do, they’re just too afraid to admit it.
Not Bexley Danforth, though.
For a second, I imagine telling him. I imagine spilling every sordid detail about this town and the people who hold all the power. I imagine letting him comfort me, letting him fight my battles. But this isn’
t a fairy tale, and there are no happy endings here. There’s only misery and pain.
His thumb strokes along my throat as he leans closer, his lips practically touching the shell of my ear. “All I can think about is finishing what we started at that party. You were so fucking wet, Mia. I wanted to make you come all over my fingers.” Bexley rolls his hips against me, letting me feel exactly what I do to him.
I smother a whimper, my eyes fluttering closed as I let myself remember. “You felt so good, little mouse.” My eyes fly open, and he smirks. “Small, helpless, little mouse.” His grip around my throat tightens.
I know I should feel terrified; I’m completely at his mercy. But there’s something else under the surface. “Fuck. You,” I seethe.
“Nah.” He releases me sharply, and I sag down the wall. “Something tells me you want that, and Kingsley made it pretty clear you’re his. So until I find out what you’re hiding, I’m not going to lay a single finger on you.”
Disappointment wells in my chest.
“You should go.” I can barely look at him. Bexley hovers for a second, his eyes drilling holes in the top of my head. He isn’t leaving, so I say the only thing I know will get rid of him.
“If Cade finds out you’re here,” I finally lift my gaze to his, “he’ll kill you.”
Bexley bristles. His eyes narrow to dangerous slits as he backtracks to the door. But he pauses at the last second, right as he goes for the handle.
“I’d like to see him try.”
By the time the next morning rolls around, the pit in my stomach is so deep, I feel a little nauseous.
Bexley was here, in my dorm room. The one I had to beg my parents to let me have.
Since Gravestone U is only a twenty-minute ride from town, nestled right on the edge of the forest, they wanted me to stay at home. Probably to keep an eye on me. My father was particularly concerned about me moving into the dorms.
But in the end, I got my own way.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I run my fingers through my dark blonde hair. I have two hours worth of classes with Bexley today. He was so angry last night, dark, volatile energy rolling off him. But still, I didn’t feel any of the fear I feel whenever I’m with Cade.
As if the universe summons him, there’s a firm knock at my door, and I know, I just know, that it’s him. I give myself a few seconds. Today, I’m wearing some skinny black jeans and a soft pink tank top that hangs on my body. My hair is loose and wavy around my face, which is free of makeup. I look basic, a far cry from the perfect veneers of the likes of Brook and her friends.
A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of enduring another day of Brook’s death stare whenever our paths cross around campus. So far, Cade has kept her at arm’s length, but I know she won’t stay gone for long.
His knocks grow louder, more impatient. “Coming,” I call, taking a deep breath as I move reluctantly to the door.
“Morning, babe,” he drawls, pressing one hand to the doorjamb above my head. He looks good in a Fendi polo shirt, the top button undone, paired with fitted dark jeans. But then, Cade Kingsley always looks good.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he adds when I don’t respond.
“I’m ready, we can lea—”
“Actually, there’s something I need to discuss with you.” He steps into my space, forcing me back into my room. Fear trickles through me as Cade looms over me like a dark prince sent to claim my soul.
