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Flying down from the balcony, I make my way to the front door of Fallen house and slip inside. Students eye me as I walk past the common room in my wet shorts and tank top, leaving little granules of sand in my wake. It could be worse, though. At least I have my bathing suit covered.
When I make it to my door, I sigh a breath of relief. Home sweet home.Once I’m inside, I can fix the balcony sensor. It’s all good. I still have my key.
Except I don’t. I dig through the pockets of my shorts, pulling them inside out to reveal nothing but sand. But where …
Fuck. I hadn’t bothered to bring my key because I’d been dead set on using the balcony. Shit!
Crossing the hall to Dina’s room, I knock on her door. It’s fine. She’ll let me inside, and I’ll just crash with her tonight until I can figure it out. No big deal.
Except it is a big fucking deal. Dina doesn’t answer, and pressing my ear to the door only proves my assumption that she’s not even in her room.
My heart pounds as I try to think of another solution. Theo and Raphael can’t come without breaking curfew, and I won’t risk their spot here. But that also means that I can’t go to them without facing the same consequences. What the hell am I supposed to do?
A memory flashes through my mind of my first day. Of Zeke walking me to my room and unlocking the door with a master key. What had he said?“If you ever lose it or have trouble accessing your room, come find me.”
Fucking shit.
I don’t even have his number or email programmed into my slate. Why hadn’t I at least taken his email from the welcome packet? I’m an idiot.
With a few deep breaths, I make my way up the stairs toward the eighth floor. Resolve settles inside me as I stand in front of his door. He’s the Fallen house leader. It’s not as if he can turn me away, right?
I rap my knuckles on his door twice before stepping back to wait. And wait. By the time I count to sixty, my worry turns to frustration. Seriously? What could he possibly be doing in there?
Stepping closer, I press my ear to the door, listening for any signs of life inside.
Nothing.
I try again, this time cupping my hand to my ear where it presses against the solid wood.
The door flies open, my hand falling to land on Zeke’s bare chest where he stands inside the threshold.
Mortification freezes my every limb, including the one currently plastered to his pec. With dark-green SCU sweatpants riding low on his hips, I try to ignore the outline of his dick, but it’s almost impossible.
He doesn’t pull away, only tilts his head in question as his gaze travels along my sandy clothes. “Can I help you?”
His words jolt me out of my humiliation, and I pull my hand back. “Uh, sorry. Yes. I need you, master.”By the Archangels. Try again, Hayliel.“Your master key, I mean. I’m locked out of my room.”
He smirks, amused at my stuttering. I can hardly concentrate when he stands there looking so fucking hot. Christ. This is why women let hot guys treat them like shit. It’s like our brains stop functioning properly in their presence.
“Why don’t you just enter through the balcony?”
“I tried, but it kept giving me an error. That’s when I realized I’d left my key inside.”
He sighs, walking to his desk to grab the key before heading back to the door. “Let’s go.”
“You aren’t going to put a shirt on?”
“No. Will that be a problem for you, hummingbird?”
I bite my lip and shake my head, not trusting myself to speak.
He takes the lead, with me following behind him as we head toward my room. I take the time to study his broad frame. A tattoo runs along his spinal cord, stretching across his shoulders and down the backs of his arms. I remember this from the start-of-term party but, between the neon paint and our tryst, I didn’t have time to study it then.
The skeletal design is gorgeous, if not slightly haunting. Part of me wants to ask him if it holds some deeper meaning, but I don’t actually think he’d answer me. He’s only unlocking my dorm room because it’s his job as house leader. Nothing more.
To my surprise, he doesn’t just unlock the door and leave. Instead, he rests his hands against the top of the door frame, watching as I place my slate down and slip off my sandals.
“Can you show me that error? It’s rare that these machines act up, but it isn’t unheard of.”
