“How?” Noah grumbled. “When she feels like that… how the hell are you barely touching her?”
“Everyone go the hell to sleep!” Quillan boomed, his chest rising against my back.
I closed my eyes, blocking off my view of the others as I fumbled with the emotion I was pushing out to them. I worked to slowly raise my guard, and knew that I had succeeded when Quillan finally relaxed behind me. He released a heavy sigh, his grip on my face loosening somewhat.
“Thanks,” he groused.
“You’re welcome,” I squeaked against his fingers.
He chuckled slightly, his hand slipping from my face to my neck, drawing me back into the comfort of his arms. The message was loud and clear.
Sleep.
I opened my eyes in the morning and immediately looked for Silas, somehow knowing that he wouldn’t be there anymore. The mattress that he had slept on was bare, but I tried not to allow the worry to take hold of me. It was because he didn’t want Weston catching him there, I attempted to assure myself. He wouldn’t leave us; he had said so himself. I gently extracted myself from Quillan’s arm, standing on wobbly legs and moving to the bathroom. I rushed through a shower, brushed my teeth, and wrapped a towel around myself, peeking back into the bedroom. Everyone was still asleep, so I tiptoed out of the bathroom and rummaged through Cabe’s wardrobe, where I had hung all of my clothes. I gathered what I needed and crept back toward the bathroom, pausing when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Noah had sat up, and was now staring at me, the corner of his lip crooked up, hinting at a grin.
I grimaced in reaction to being caught but he only curled a finger at me, beckoning me closer. I hesitantly approached him, kneeling beside his mattress. He gripped the back of my wet head, yanking me down to him and planting his lips beside my ear.
“Try not to get stuck alone with me today.” His voice was as rough as his grip, belying the smile he had used to lure me over.
I was too unsettled to reply immediately, but soon managed to force a word out. “What?”
“I’m just warning you,” he cautioned, his fingers flexing, his voice low. “I need to give you time; I need time. I did horrible things to you, Seph. I can’t forget that so quickly and you shouldn’t either.”
He released me and I almost fell backwards, but managed to catch myself at the last second, my eyes wide on his face. I bundled my clothes tighter to my chest as I forced my shaking legs to carry me back into the bathroom. I had no reply for him.
I finally give into the bond and they all go mental.
I almost wished that I could backtrack to last night’s meeting and demand to have the ground rules reinstated… but at least there was one line that they weren’t planning on crossing. I quickly changed and escaped the room, avoiding looking at any of them as I retreated to the door down the hallway that marked Quillan’s old room. I knocked and waited until Tariq pulled the door open.
“Hey little brother,” I greeted, pushing into the sitting room and flopping onto one of the couches.
He glanced into the hallway behind me and then closed the door. “You’re hiding from them, aren’t you?” He was grinning.
“Hiding from who?” I asked, my voice carefully free of inflection.
He laughed and shook his head, but didn’t push the subject. Instead, he moved to the small bar fridge set into a leather-padded bench in the wall. He pulled out two bottles of orange juice and two bananas, tossing one to me.
“Where’d you get these?” I asked, already peeling the banana and starting to stuff it into my mouth.
“Arnold—the driver, he picked up some supplies for me. Figured we wouldn’t want to eat with Weston. Smart guy.”
I nodded, because my mouth was full of banana, and he slouched into one of the chairs, ripping off the cap of his orange juice and chugging half of it.
“So,” he arched his brows at me, “should I ask why you’re hiding from them?”
“Definitely not.”
“Point taken. How’s college life?”
“I’ve barely been to any classes. Noah’s ex-girlfriend decided to team up with the messenger, and he decided to decorate the courtyard with a tombstone yesterday. The tombstone had my name on it.”
“What, no explosions?” Tariq rolled his eyes. “The guy is losing his edge.”
I gave him a strained smile, appreciating that he was trying to empower me by making light of the messenger. Unfortunately, it didn’t really work.
“Do you want to talk about Gerald?” I asked him.
I had confided in him about Gerald’s second death, but he had yet to show a proper reaction. Even now, he just gave a stiff shrug.
“I can’t mourn him twice. It was painful enough the first time. It hurts, but not in the sense that I’ve lost something. It’s more a hurt over something that I never had in the first place. But…” he forced a smile onto his face, “I still have my family. I have you.”