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“You’re against boys doing other boys?”
He grimaces. “You could say that. It’s against our rules, our traditions. God said—”
“Don’t put this on God,” I snap, not sure why I’m so upset with him when I was raised in a church, and why the thought of Ashton together with another boy—or Jason, for that matter—is getting me all hot and bothered. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“To Ashton. He’s hurt. He needs help. So you said.”
He stares at me. “You’d do this. For Ashton.”
“Why not? Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”
“Jealous.” He scoffs. His cheeks are still bright pink as he stands in front of me, hands in his pockets, blond hair falling into his eyes. “Why would I be?”
“No reason. Come on, before I change my mind.”
Ashton hasn’t kissed me. The only one of all four of them who hasn’t. He saved my hide when I arrived at the Academy and found out that I’d been conned and that my name wasn’t on the student list.
No emotions, remember?
But I owe him, still. That’s what I’m doing. Paying back my debt.
Relieved to have a rational excuse, at least, I gesture for Jason to lead the way.
By the timewe enter the magical creatures’ quarters—otherwise known as the boys’ dormitory, though magical girls sleep there, too—and take the stairs up, my excuses are starting to look shaky. Flimsy at best.
Because theyareflimsy. I tried to convince myself that I have a perfectly valid, logical reason for being here, but standing so close to Jason both excites and irritates me. His scent envelops me, and I keep catching glimpses of him—muscles flexing in his strong legs as he goes up the steps, the denim soft and molding to his anatomy, his bare arms corded as he reaches up to push his hair out of his face, his handsome profile, his mouth.
The memory of him kissing me slams into me and it’s all I can do not to stumble. But I guess I do stumble a little because his hand closes around my wrist and he stops, looking down at me, his gaze zeroing in on my mouth.
“Mia…” His voice is a breath and there’s a question in it. I want to say ‘yes, yes, kiss me again, hold me close’.
Then I remember his admission about why he had been there in the first place and a rush of cold goes through me.
“Where’s Ashton?” I whisper and pull my wrist free. “We should go to him.”
He blinks, then frowns. “Right. This way.”
I know the way. After all, I now know they all live on the same floor, but I nod and follow him anyway, rubbing at my wrist. It doesn’t hurt, or maybe just a little since his grip had been like a vise, but it’s the memory of the touch that confuses me, throwing my thoughts into disarray. How can I still want him, want his kiss, after finding out the truth?
Wait, correction: after having extra confirmation that he, like all four of them, is an ass? How many times do I have to be hit over the head with the truth to believe it?
Better not answer that. Many, it seems. Are they master manipulators? Or are they just so pretty that my mind goes stupid when I see them?
I’m so busy trying not to look at Jason that when he stops, I plow right into his back. It’s like running into a warm, solid wall.
“You okay?” He lifts a blond brow at me and I just say nothing. He knocks on the door we’re standing in front of and then opens it without waiting for an answer.
“Hey,” a voice says from inside, low and raspy. “Were you raised in a barn? Oh, Jason. You probablywereraised in a barn, or perhaps the woods, so I take my question b—”
“Stop being awful, Ash,” I say, stepping out from behind Jason, gratified to see those gray eyes widen. “He’s trying to help you.”
“Still not sure why I bother,” Jason grunts.
Can’t blame him, especially when Ashton huffs and says, “Jeez, Wolfboy, couldn’t you find any humans? You had to bring me a witch?”
I roll my eyes as I approach him. “Nice to see you, too, Ashton.”
