“I don’t know what the hell his problem was. I should have pounded him back, but…he’s so pathetic, you know? I just didn’t have it in me to hit him.”
“Yeah?” I make two fists. “Well, I do.”
“Trey, leave it, man!”
I slam the door on Riley’s call and barge into Chris’s room. He’s sitting on his bed looking sick and pale, but I’m too annoyed to stop and think about it.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I fling my arms wide. “A flashlight? Are you fucking insane?”
I spot it on the ground and snatch it up, shoving it into my back pocket. “I’m taking this.”
“Give it back.” He jumps off the bed and goes to grab it.
I shove him away. “Forget it. If you’re gonna use it as a weapon then I’m confiscating it.”
“Oh, you’re a teacher now?” Chris’s eyes fire with anger. “Acting like some self-righteous prick? He was the one in my room and he wouldn’t get out.”
“So you throw this at his face while he’s not looking? Have you seen the bruise you left behind?”
“Oh, please, he’s a big boy. He can handle it.”
I grit my teeth, steam coming out my nose. “You don’t mess with my brothers.”
“They’re not your brothers!” His eyes fire hot. “You’re not even related!”
“They’re brothers to me. I don’t give a shit about blood. They’re family, and I don’t like it when someone does something to hurt them! So you’re gonna apologize to Riley.”
“Screw you.” He tries to shove me.
His pathetic attempt barely moves me, which pisses him off.
I snicker and tell him he’s lame without saying it.
My expression makes his dark eyebrows dip together and he lets out a growl before lurching forward with a punch. I block it, waving his hand away.
He comes forward with another punch, aiming for my stomach. I jump out of the way and grab his skinny wrist.
He stomps on my foot, catching my little toe. I grumble a curse and shift my knee just as he goes for my groin.
I flash him a horrified look. Does he not know the rules of combat? You never go for the balls!
My eyes narrow with anger and he starts struggling big time, making these pathetic little noises as he goes for my shins and then tries to stand on my feet again.
“Stop it!” I want to punch him square in the face but I get what Riley means.
The guy’s so…I don’t know what he is, but I can’t bring myself to hit him.
With a sharp huff, I walk him back and slam him into his closet door. His face crumples with pain, but he won’t quit struggling. I let go of his wrist and grab his collar, getting in his face, about to yell at him for being an idiot.
But then he looks me straight in the eye.
It’s like the first time I saw him. Some weird, freaky connection that makes us both still. I can’t move away from it. I can’t do anything but stare into his brown eyes, transfixed by the pain and longing.
His eyes glass over and before I can stop it, he lurches forward and plants his lips on mine.
I kiss back.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but the second his soft lips hit me, I’m taken by this primal need I don’t understand. His tongue swipes across my lips and I give in to it, opening my mouth and searching for a taste.
Our breath is hot, hitting each other with a mindless desperation I can’t control.
Until my senses kick in and the thought flitters through my brain…
I’m kissing a guy.
My eyes bulge and I jolt back, wiping a hand across my mouth.
Chris’s lips part with horror. He can’t believe it either.
I stumble back, crashing into the edge of the desk.
“That wasn’t…” I raise my finger. “I’m not into…” I’m shaking as I wipe my lips with the back of my hand.
He won’t say anything. He’s just staring at me with those glassy eyes. Tears line his lashes and the second the first one spills over, I bolt from the room.
Running straight to the bathrooms, I lock myself in the back stall and thump onto the toilet seat. I grip my knees. What the hell just happened? Burying my head in my hands, I try to gain control of my thundering heart and come to terms with the fact that Chris is gay, and there’s a chance I might be as well.
#17:
Cold and Restless
Christiana
I can’t believe I kissed Trey.
But he was right there. He was angry, steamed…irresistible as melted chocolate on a marshmallow.
Something about his eyes drew me in, took control of my senses and made me forget the fact I was in hiding.
And he kissed back.
His tongue was warm and commanding. I wanted to melt against him, feel his arms encase me. He could wipe it all away—my fear, my isolation. He could make it better.
But he can’t! Because he can’t know what I am.
All my impulses did was confuse him and create a massive rift between us. I’ve never seen him so pale as the moment he crashed into my desk, wiping his mouth like I’d burned him. His brain must have been spasming big time.
Guilt sears me.