Night School - Endgame

She smoothed it with her fingers, getting rid of the wilder tangles.

When she didn’t want to look at herself any longer, she climbed up on the empty desktop, unlatched the window and pushed it open, letting in the cool night breeze.

It was very late. But she didn’t feel tired anymore. She’d never felt more awake. Her body thrummed with happiness. Carter was home.

They were still in trouble. The same problems they had yesterday would be there to greet them tomorrow. But she would get through them. Now that she had him back.

She sat cross-legged on top of his desk, her chin on one hand, looking out over the quiet grounds. In the distance, a night bird sang a mournful song.

Her mind flipped through all that had happened while he’d been gone. Her grandmother’s funeral. Her inheritance. Rachel.

Most of all, Gabe.

Her heart twisted at the memory. She’d have to tell Carter what she’d done. What if he didn’t understand? What if he looked at her differently?

Behind her, the bedroom door swung open. Allie spun around.

Carter stood in the doorway, a towel over his shoulder, his dark hair damp and curling. He wore navy Cimmeria trousers. He’d left his shirt unbuttoned, and her eyes were drawn to his finely muscled chest, the flat plane of his stomach.

Just looking at him made her pulse race.

He was perfect.

His eyes traced her face, the lines of her body.

He didn’t say a word. Dropping the towel to the floor, he crossed the room in four long steps. She slipped from the desk and they met in a kiss.

It was the kiss she’d dreamed about. Longed for.

He must have dreamed of it too, because his lips were demanding. Passionate. He crushed her in his arms, pulling her tightly against him. His body was warm and shower damp.

His lips teased hers until her lips parted. He tasted of peppermint toothpaste. His soft breath filled her lungs and she never wanted to breathe anything again except him.

She pressed her hand against the warm skin of his chest and felt his heart beating beneath her fingertips. Its rhythm was strong and so fast – as fast as her own.

His eyes darkened.

‘Allie,’ he whispered. ‘I’ve dreamed of this a thousand times. Tell me I’m not dreaming now.’

The longing in his voice made her stomach muscles tighten. Something deep inside her ached when he looked at her like that.

‘This is real,’ she said, as much to herself as to him.

Reaching up, she ran her fingers through his damp, tangled hair, and pulled his head down until his mouth met hers again. ‘Completely real.’

She couldn’t seem to stop touching him. She slid her hands across his warm skin, feeling the hard definition of his muscles. The nubby line of his spine.

Taking this as invitation, he slid his hands underneath her untucked top, stroking the sensitive skin of her lower back until she gasped.

With a ragged breath, he raised his head, gazing down at her, his dark eyes fathomless.

‘You are the most amazing person I have ever known,’ he whispered. ‘I would be held prisoner for a hundred years if I knew I’d see you at the end.’

Allie’s eyes blinked back tears.

When she’d first arrived at Cimmeria Academy, she didn’t believe there was one true person left in the world. Now, at last, she knew she’d been wrong.

‘I love you, Carter.’

It still felt weird to say it; some part of her twisted in agony waiting for him to say it back.

He pressed his forehead against hers, looking deep into her eyes. There was nothing in his face but truth. She’d never seen anything more beautiful.

‘Allie,’ he whispered. ‘I will love you forever.’





33





Allie slipped from Carter’s room just after dawn, leaving him sound asleep.

She hated to leave his side even for a second, but there was no way Isabelle would look favourably on this sort of extracurricular activity.

Even in days like these.

The night before they’d talked for hours. Kissed for hours. Revelled in the glorious unfamiliarity of being together.

He told her more about being held prisoner.

‘The worst part was the isolation,’ he said, running his fingertips down her shoulder. ‘Some days no one talked to me at all. Twenty-four hours of silence. It messes with your head.’

He kept insisting it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. But something about the way he avoided her gaze told her he was protecting her from the reality of it.

He wanted all of her news, too. When she told him about Rachel and Nicole, his eyebrows climbed.

‘Are you seriously telling me you didn’t know? Bloody hell, Allie. They were the most obvious couple I’ve ever seen.’

‘Oh God, you knew, too?’ She couldn’t believe it. ‘And you didn’t mention it?’

‘Tomorrow,’ he’d said, ‘remind me to point out the blue sky and the green grass and some other really obvious things.’

She’d hit him with a pillow.

Sometime later, she told him about Gabe.

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