Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
And yet again, there’s something threatening that. It makes me angry in a way that almost feels uncontrollable.
Weston doesn’t deserve anything like this.
“I’ll take care of Kieran,” I tell him, keeping my tone even. “I know I’ve never given you any reason to trust me, but I’m going to fucking fix this, Weston.”
He stays looking out the front windshield. “Not everything’s that easy to fix.”
I wish, so fucking deeply in my bones, that I could say he was wrong.
But Weston’s not wrong.
He never is, really.
And as I sit there at a red light I feel a quiet storm taking hold in me.
Why are you so fucking good? I think as I glance over at him, in a way that makes me angry. Angry at the world for all of the bad things that have happened to Wes. Angry at the fact that I was part of that problem, for so long, assuming things about him that were way off-base and making myself his enemy.
I could have had him earlier, and I wasn’t even aware of it.
Is that what I want?
To “have” him?
I feel like I’ve been let off of some invisible leash. After the light turns green I veer over into an empty gas station parking lot at the side of the road, and I throw my Mustang into park.
Wes looks over at me, confused for an instant.
I unbuckle my seat belt and lean over, holding his jaw gently for a moment.
He looks confused, but I don’t explain.
And I let myself look at the blue of his eyes, reflecting in the midmorning sun, before I crush my lips to his. It’s hurried and unexpected, and he gasps softly as I kiss him.
Shouldn’t be doing this, I think idly, somewhere in the back of my mind.
But I pull him as close as I can anyway, in the awkward angle in the front seat of the car, trying to channel everything I feel into a kiss.
I pull back, staying close to his face just for a moment. A little trail of fear coils through me, the same conditioning I’ve had running through my veins for a lifetime.
I have to defuse things.
Have to stay on my own island, like a lone wolf.
“If either of us gets hurt or expelled, then that means I won’t be able to fuck you anymore. We can’t have that, right?” I joke.
It’s a feeble attempt to lighten the mood.
He at least gives me a gentle half-smile, even though I can tell my joke didn’t do much to hide how intense I truly feel.
But as I lean back into the driver’s seat and put my seat belt back on, my head is swirling.
Maybe I’m not actually afraid of anyone getting expelled.
Maybe I know that I can fix this shit between Kieran and Roman, and what I’m actually afraid of is something much more subtle.
I meant those words more than you even realize, Wes.
Maybe I’m starting to need you.
And it scares me to feel anything close to that.
Part Two
Full Bloom
15
Weston
Returning to campus is like stepping back into cold reality.
I get back into Onyx House and my night with Sev feels like a far-off dream from the moment I’m back.
Roman and Noah are in the front living room by the fireplace, and I can see Roman’s bruised face right away.
“Here he is,” Roman says.
“I heard what happened. Are you okay?” I ask him.
He waves a hand like he’s shooing a fly. “Bruise doesn’t matter. But we need a plan for when the Daggers guys flip their lids about the fight with Kieran.”
It’s almost alarming that Roman’s acting so calm.
I expected retaliation plans, but if Roman is cool as a cucumber right now, that might mean that he knows something else that I don’t.
Niko comes in a bit after me, and I notice that he doesn’t mention anything about the creepy text he got. He doesn’t want to involve Roman, and I know why. Any fuel added to this fire could escalate things to a place they don’t need to go.
“So,” Noah says a while later, leaning back on one of the sofas, “if Onyx got all of the offers at last year’s dinner, this year needs to be different.”
“It does,” Roman says. “If Daggers gets even a whiff of foul play, they’re going to cause problems for us.”
“But all of us keep shit very separate from the Crimson school administration,” I say. “We have mutually assured destruction. If they take us down, they go down, too.”
“Because we know some of their past dirty secrets, too,” Noah adds. “I’m sure the administration would love to hear about how Mike Amsted was growing weed in the Daggers backyard last year.”
Roman shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re willing to get a few of their members expelled just for the express purpose of ratting us out.”