Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
The way it seemed hard for him to look me in the eyes, sometimes. The way he fucking hated it anytime I talked about Mikael. And the specific loathing he had when he was forced to acknowledge that Hunter was my roommate.
“How… how long did you feel that way about me, Wes?”
He puffs out a bitter laugh. “I’m not fucking in love with you. Take your ego down a peg.”
My heart still feels like it’s being twisted.
I turn around and put my hand on his shoulder, because suddenly I feel the need to comfort him, not fight him.
“Then what was it?”
“A curiosity. About men. Not just you. A realization that I’ve been blind to certain things for a long time, too. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, didn’t want to do anything that might change it.”
“Did I break your heart?” I ask, my words barely audible.
“Again. Take your ego out back and shoot it. You didn't break my heart. I didn’t even know if I was attracted to men, but I don’t think you’re my type, Rayne.”
He gives me a long look.
And I really believe him. Wes and I are great as friends, but too similar to ever be together.
I see Weston differently now than I ever have before.
He’s always seemed so… sturdy.
Like nothing could bother him. Like he took any punches that life gave him, without faltering.
Now I see that there are facets to my best friend that I have been blind to, facets that I never got to see. Secrets he kept from me, too.
When the fuck did everything get so intense?
Weston shakes his head, scrubbing his palms over his face. “There are plenty of people I’ve been curious about, Rayne. You’re not special. For my dick, anyway.”
I let out a long breath. “I had no idea. I feel so stupid.”
“I’m not ready for anyone else to know this. I didn’t want you to be my boyfriend. I just wanted you to be my wingman.”
I nod at him. “I still can be.”
“Not if you keep secrets like this from me. I’m going to need time, Rayne. My brother doesn’t deserve you.”
It echoes what he wrote about me in the Confessional.
But he steps over toward me and comes in to give me a tight hug.
And it’s like a catharsis.
A brief moment of calm.
Because we’re in the eye of a storm that’s so much bigger than both of us.
Weston and I will be okay. Eventually.
I’ve always loved Weston as a friend, but I’ve never thought about him any other way. I’ve never even considered being attracted to him. I see him like he’s my own brother.
I feel safe with him.
Things feel easy with him. Felt, at least.
But the things that have been happening this semester are a lot bigger than that.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
“Don’t ever feel like you need to keep something from me again,” Wes says as he releases me.
“Of course.”
“But I’m never speaking to my brother again.”
Fuck.
I was afraid of that.
“I know you’re going to need time to process.”
“My brother will hurt you. And I know, deep in my bones, that you will regret stepping anywhere near his world. I can’t see you get hurt. The people around Hunter always get hurt.”
“He wants to help me, Wes. He wants to find the attackers more than anyone else does.”
Weston isn’t convinced. “Hunter only cares about himself. That’s how it’s always been.”
A creeping fear spreads through my veins when I see how certain the look on Weston’s face is.
“I don’t think that’s true.”
Week after week, I’ve been growing closer to Hunter.
I know Hunter.
He’s been showing me things he doesn’t show his brother, and I finally feel like it’s not stupid to build up trust in him.
But how well do I really know Hunter Knox?
Even now?
I know the dips and curves of his body.
The feel of his lips.
The constellation of freckles along his arm.
But there’s still the shred of doubt that plagues my mind when Weston seems so convinced about him. And that doubt tells me something else.
Maybe I only know what Hunter chooses to show me.
When I walk back to my room I know something is wrong.
I step along the floorboards in the hall and see a thin streak of dark red coming from the bottom of the doorway.
The fear that’s shot through my nervous system only worsens.
It’s not a lot of blood.
But it’s blood, unmistakably.
The door is only cracked open, and I have no idea who is inside.
My fear turns to pure panic.
For a split second I’m caught between two decisions. Do I run back and get Weston? Ask him to go inside with me?
Or do I go in alone?
I don’t want him hurt.
I want him as far away from any potential danger as possible.
Go.
Just fucking go.
I move quietly as I approach the door and I push it open without walking in. I look around the corner and see the pale moonlight coming in through the window.