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I slide open one of the drawers and once again see clothes inside. Taking out a swimsuit, I tie up the sides of the briefs and knot the bikini top in the middle. I already know expecting to see a suit in here is asking for a bit much, and any second I spend in here is one less out there, so I open the bedroom door, ignoring the casting of shadows on the walls from the hall lights.
I’m entering the kitchen area when I see Sparrow already in there, leaning against the counter. He’s wearing gray sweats and no shirt, and for the first time since meeting him, I get a glimpse of what is beneath the Armani suits. His abs pull in together when he shifts position, creating two perfect creases that cut down and dip beneath the drawstring of his pants. A faded old scar runs from one hip, up to the side of his shoulder, and suddenly the god-like body doesn’t matter. I want to know what the scar means. How it happened. He doesn’t have as many tattoos as Dion—most people don’t have as many tattoos as Dion—but he has one full sleeve, what looks like a chapel over his right pec, and script over his ribcage that leads to thesparrowover his neck.
“Hungry?” His voice is low, enough to feel the tone vibrate through my bones.
I clear my throat. His hair is scruffy, sticking up all over the place, and for once in my life, I wish I didn’t come down here to surf. I should have stayed in bed. He obviously just rolled out of bed and—stop.
“No, just had a bad dream.”
His blue eyes fall down my body, and I catch myself tracing the perfect lines of his lips. “And now you’re going out?”
“Yeah.” I take a few steps forward. “I need it…”
His head tilts. I really wish he didn’t do that. Tapping his finger against the counter, he pushes off slightly, resting on the kitchen island. The kitchen itself is old. The whole house needs a refurb. The thought of that is crushing because I know how much Mom would have loved to do it.
“We have to head away for a bit tomorrow.”
I step around the kitchen counter, watching him closely out of the corner of my eye. Heat rolls over me in waves, like he is setting off a frequency that only my body senses. I know I shouldn’t be talking to him, and I know I shouldn’t technically be here. This man set me on a wild goose chase, all to end on a secluded island. But I don’t have many options right now, at least not until I turn eighteen and can legally be considered an adult. Hades Hollow is my home. What if I were shoved into a system that was way the fuck away from here?
I’ll do what I need, and anyway, Cooper is here. Dion, as much as we don’t like each other, I know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. I hope.
I stop when I’m within arm’s reach of him, leaning my hip against one of the stools. “All three of you?”
The muscle in his jaw jolts. It was one of the first features I noticed on him. His jaw. Strange thing to notice, but that’s how prominent his is.
“Yeah.”
Brushing his shoulders back, he stands straight, finally looking directly at me. I almost wish he didn’t. The pigment of his eyes darkens, and in this second, they kind of remind me of the moss that grows on coral. Like nature fighting to survive. They feel almost safe.
“I know you’ve got Cooper, but while we’re gone, a couple of people will be coming over too. Just to house-sit, so you don’t have to do anything.”
I fold my arms in front of me. “Okay.” It’s not like I can say no. It’s not my house, and I’m not ready to go back to mine yet. I may never be.
“That’s all?” He does that head tilt thing again, and I silently want to slap myself for finding it attractive. For finding everything he does attractive. Sparrow Dixon isn’t mine to pine after. I know this. Someone like him would never want a kid like me.
“Sure, why not? They’re not serial killers, are they?” I joke, tying my hair into a high pony.
Sparrow doesn’t flinch, but the corner of his mouth curls up in a slight smirk. “Notthem, no.”
I roll the ring on my forefinger. The closer he gets, the more I begin to wonder if the longer we’re around each other, the harder it becomes to breathe. I’ve tried ignoring the way each of them makes me feel. Trapped in a haze of confusion. Lust.Need.And hate. My mind hates them, but my body isn’t getting the memo.
I sidestep away from him, needing to keep myself on track. I just want to go out and ride, and not the one who looks delicious in a suit. A hand touches mine, and heat sparks from the connection, sending off a riptide through my veins.
I turn over my shoulder, annoyed at myself for not pulling from his grip before he could let me go.
The muscles on the edge of his jaw bounce before he shakes his head. “While we’re gone, I need you to call me if you need anything. No one else, do you understand?”
“Yeah?” I swipe my hand down my thighs to wipe off the sweat. Why the fuck does he make me nervous? “Just you or any of you?”
He blinks, leaning on the counter. His fingers tap against the marble, and I don’t know if the wind picked up or if it is the way his eyes move over my body, but a shiver rolls down my spine. “When you say any of us, are you asking me if you cancallany of us three?”
My eyes fall to his chest tattoo before coming back to his. “I guess so, yes?” What the hell else would I be asking him?
Moments pass until I think he’s not going to say anything else.
“What do you think has happened up until this point?”
I see movement out of the corner of my eye and look up to see Malyk leaning against the wall. He’s dressed in all black, with heavy combat boots on his feet and a scarf covering half of his face.
