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But this morning my stomach decided I didn’t have time to be shy and feel sorry for myself and thankfully the moment I stepped inside the dining hall, Paul waved me over to sit with him and a few of his friends. I looked around for Crane and Brom but didn’t see them (another twist of jealousy when I imagined the two of them still lazing in bed together), so I was able to be a simple student on campus for a moment.
If being a simple student means you’re part of some sacrifice or ritual that involves the coven that runs the school.
“Mind if I walk you to Professor Crane’s class?” Paul asks as we exit the dining hall, nibbling on a cheese Danish.
“I appreciate the offer but I left my books back in my room,” I tell him, patting him on the arm.
“I’ll wait for you here,” he says with a smile.
“Alright, won’t be a moment,” I tell him, hurrying around the corner to my dorm. I’m actually touched that Paul wants to walk me. I’m sure he knows that there’s something going on between Crane and I, which means he just wants to be friends and I could use a real friend.
I gather my books from my room and am stepping out of the front doors when someone grabs my arm roughly and pulls me to the side of the building in a flurry of black hair and black clothes.
“Brom,” I gasp, his grip tight around my bicep as he presses me against the wall. “What are you doing here?”
Brom just stares at me with those wild black eyes of his. He looks better than he has been lately, his dark hair off his face, his beard neatly trimmed, his clothes clean and tailored. Even though my heart is going fast at his intrusion, I relax when I remember that it’s the daytime and I don’t have to worry about the horseman coming out. There’s only Brom right now, the Brom I’ve always known and trusted.
He doesn’t let go of my arm, though.
“I wanted to see you before class,” he says roughly, taking a step closer until he’s boxed me in against the stone. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you alone. I need to talk to you. I need to be with you.”
“Can you let go of my arm?” I ask firmly.
He looks down at where he’s gripping me and his forehead crinkles, as if surprised. He drops his hand. “Sorry.” He glances up at me, a lost look in his eyes that makes me want to touch him. I manage to refrain, my fingers curling around my books instead.
“You think differently of me now,” he says in a low voice. Though he is no longer holding on to me, he’s still close, so close, his face inches from mine. His eyes are so dark and soulful that I feel myself falling into them like I used to do.
“What do you mean?” I ask cautiously.
“I mean everything, daffy,” he says and my heart trips over my nickname. “When I first came back to Sleepy Hollow, you looked at me like I was your world. Now you look at me and all I see is fear.”
“Can you blame me? You know what you did to me.”
“It wasn’t me,” he snaps. “Honey, I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, not unless you wanted it.”
“Honey?” I repeat. Since when has he ever used that word for me before? “I’m not your honey, Brom. You know we shouldn’t even be this close, nor should we be alone.”
“Why?” he asks, leaning in even further, as if I challenged him. His mouth is so close now that if I moved at all it would brush against mine. “Don’t say it’s because of Crane. Tell me it’s because of the coven, but don’t you dare say it’s because of Crane. He doesn’t get to come in here to Sleepy Hollow and fuck things up for us.”
“He’s not messing anything up, I just can’t be with you, you know I can’t, I—”
He leans in, his mouth on mine in one hard, deep kiss. With one hand on my books, the other goes to his chest to push him off, but I don’t. I just keep my hand there, feeling the pure power beneath my fingers and sink into the heat of his kiss. He kisses deeply, slowly, like he’s trying to fuse me to him, his tongue owning every inch of my mouth.
“Let me fuck you right here,” he says against my lips, voice both hoarse and soft, and his hand goes to the front of my skirt and between my legs, cupping me there where I’m already hot. “No one has to know.”
I let out a moan at the pressure of his hand, bearing down on it, and his mouth goes to my neck and my head goes back against the wall, succumbing, clutching my books to my chest as if they are a shield to protect me from the devil that is Brom Bones.
