Awful Intentions: Friends-to-Lovers Romance (The Celestial Bodies Series Book 2)

by Elena Monroe

  “I knew you’d be jealous. He’s my boss, Nyx. B-O-S-S.”

  Pulling off the curb in front of the school where she worked, I focused on getting us home. We needed to go to our corners and cool off before one of us said something we couldn’t come back from.

  “Of course I’m jealous, Luna. You’re my Luna with him, while I only get this version. Hope he deserves it.”

  Her whole body turned towards me. Her eyes were normally green, but I swore I saw yellow and red flicker like a flame.

  “Are you serious, Nyx? I killed Cheyanne. Killed, dead, gone, and never coming back. I think I deserve a get out of jail free card for a while, instead of you interrogating me for smiling.”

  I resorted to exactly what she hated: silence.

  I hit the steering wheel once and made a quick turn into the parking lot adjacent to our apartment building.

  There was no part of who I was that she needed.

  Stern? No.

  Protective? No.

  Jealous? No.

  Soft? No.

  Dirty? No.

  Unlike Arianna and Bolton, we couldn’t fuck the bad away, and praying to dead gods was out too.

  Luna was exactly what people needed, all the time, while we fumbled around her, second guessing what she actually needed every minute of every day.

  We were all codling her, using kid gloves.

  Not me.

  Not anymore.

  I was done being her punching bag and hoping that if she landed enough blows that would knock some sense into her.

  She could be bad, good, or indifferent, and I wasn’t going to care. Anymore.

  Luna was officially not under my protection anymore. The wolves were going to eat my Little Lamb alive.

  Good thing that I had the best seat in the house—her open wound matching mine.

  Calm and collected on the outside, but seething on the inside, was my specialty. I got out of my Firebird with ease, almost proud of myself for not looking back at her expression.

  “Where are you going?” she shouted, realizing I wasn’t going to be opening her door this time, like I had started doing.

  Pulling the heavy door open to the apartment building, I shouted without looking over my shoulder, “You’re on your own, sweet cheeks.”

  ??

  Luna

  I sulked in the car like a child for longer than I truly meant to.

  Nyx just drew a line in the sand, with either of us on either side, marking us as enemies instead of allies.

  He wanted all of me or none of me.

  That price was too high when it came to gambling on myself. Right now, I didn't know who I was, so how was I supposed to sacrifice myself?

  With what heart? The one willing to kill, or the one upset that he turned his back on me?

  I shot Arianna a text: Please be home tonight. I need girl time.

  I didn't need “girl time”. I needed to be around the one person who understood me not being myself right now.

  Arianna barely spoke after the ritual. She was catatonic for weeks, not sleeping or eating, just staring off into nothing. It made me feel crazier for taking my moral dilemma so hard, when Arianna had it so much worse.

  She was a dogsitter for now—still distant and staying at the owner’s house while they vacationed.

  She had changed jobs almost as many times as Bolton had quit the coffee shop. Housesitter, dogsitter, nanny… mainly jobs that ended or began with sitting somewhere else.

  Low maintenance.

  Secluded.

  Safe.

  Her thirst for adventure seemingly quenched, no longer catatonic, still not her sassy self.

  After hanging up my bags, I immediately exchanged my work clothes for my fuzzy robe. I threw on my same long, oversized shirt, now repurposed as my nightgown, and waited for Arianna to get back.

  I wasn’t holding my breath though.

  None of us shared schedules anymore. We all had versions of our own lives that just seemed to travel along each other at the same time.

  The real world was chewing us up and savoring the taste so much it hadn't spit us out yet.

  I crawled into bed. Pushing headphones in and turning on Netflix, I scrolled through the romance category. Small comforts.

  Every cover was a perfectly matched couple ready to fall in love, forcing you to feel every hardship right along with them, until the happily ever after sprang into action.

  You had to make it through the storm to see any rainbows.

  After the movie ended, I saw there was no more daylight peeking through the curtains anymore, and I knew Arianna wasn't coming home tonight.

  I didn't want to be the person who ratted her out, but every worrisome bone in my body knew something was wrong, for months now. I grew into the discomfort. It was the taunting me, whispering you can't fix this in the back of my head that kept me insecure.

  Before grabbing my book off the nightstand, I sent two messages—one to Bolton and one to Arianna.

  Me: Your girlfriend didn't come home again. Is she housesitting? I'm worried...

  Me: You gave me no choice. Things have been messed up, but it's easier together. I need my best friend.

  “Need” was an understate.

  “Need” was being polite.

  “Need” was really a desperate cry for help.

  Falling asleep against my stack of pillows, I thought my mind was too tired to dream. It's funny how exhausted your body can be but your mind is active, gearing to go and break through the walls.

  Shooting up, with my body still shaking, my chest pounded into my heart, drowning out any other noise to distract me. This wasn't the same dream. This one wasn't a twisted look at what happened. This dream was threatening.

  Omari was chasing me in the woods behind Arcadia, playing in the shadows, appearing like smoke and evaporating just as easily, but not without whispering in my ear first: I'll find you. I'll always find you.

  I couldn't even be mad at him, as my chest still burned and pounded.

  I deserved to be found and punished; it was only a matter of time until Omari kept his word.

  My gaze turned toward her still empty bed. The dark room had shadows everywhere, and I realized being alone fed right into Omari’s powers.

  He could lurk in any shadow, at any time, and no one would know.

  Stepping into my slippers, I hopped out of bed, trying to think of happy things, like kittens, sushi, candles that smell comforting, and all the more painful things that people go through.

  That's what I did when I was at work: rationalized my own problems into stupidity, because the autistic kids I helped daily had real problems.

  Ones no one could fix for them.

  We all lived in the same building, except Caellum, Jasper, Kate, and Austin lived across the street in another apartment complex.

  The only other person I would trust my darkness with was Nyx, and he hated me right now, for reasons I couldn't add to my pile... yet.

  I had a spare key to his place in case I needed to escape. I hadn't used it yet, but now seemed like a good time—when standard nightmares turned into threats.

  Not empty ones either.

  The key slid in like butter, and I made sure to quietly twist the handle, making sure not to wake him. I already felt like I had to apologize, never mind another apology for waking him too.

  His room was darker than mine—so black I couldn't even make out shapes. I stubbed my toe on his boots inside the door, and I bit my lip down, making sure not to shout out in pain.

  Finally feeling my knees touch the bed, I pushed back some covers and crawled in.

  Exactly what he said not to do.

  I guess the bad parts were also defiant.

  Cuddling into him, I leaned against his warm chest. Nyx was always warm to the touch. He carried part of the Underworld with him and the fire of his dad, Hades.

  His gruff voice almost lazily strung syllables together: “I didn't know you were into threesomes, L
ittle Lamb.”

  I shot up in horror at his words tugging at my embarrassment before looking past his body. My eyes adjusted to the black now, and I saw her blue and pink hair pop against his black pillows.

  My chest didn't pound this time; it clenched and ached with pain all over again—a different kind of pain.

  Something worse than killing someone.

  Something worse than Nyx being mad at me.

  Something worse than my best friend avoiding me because I was too much of a reflection of her own issues.

  This pain was a hole in my chest where my heart used to be.

  Nyx had a girl over last night, after telling me I was on my own. I didn't take him seriously until now. I thought I could cuddle into him and apologize his anger away.

  I should have known better.

  When Nyx was angry, he didn’t take it in strides or silence; he burned down hope and slayed hearts.

  I couldn't get out of his room fast enough after seeing his flavor of the week.

  …apparently it's cotton candy. Don't strain your brain.

  I recognized her from the Starbucks where Bolton worked. I didn't even notice she was interested.

  That might have been part of his point.

  He sat up, sparking a blunt between his lips and mumbling around it: “Told you... you're on your own, sweet cheeks. I'm not the other guys. My threats aren't empty.”

  Neither are Omari’s. You just fulfilled yours first.

  I closed the door and let my teeth kneed the inside of my cheek, focusing on anything but the ocean drowning out my vision.

  Nyx officially cut me off.

  He was done with me, and I was exactly what he said: on my own.

  Nyx

  W aking up to a bright, happy, pink-and-blue-colored-haired one night stand, that I should have never let stay over, wasn't how I wanted to start my morning.

  I had a point to prove.

  Luna couldn’t give away parts of herself that weren’t hers to give away.

  Her smile.

  Her laugh.

  The good parts that didn’t die with Cheyanne.

  Those were mine.

  Sitting up against the wall, I popped the top off my zippo lighter and watched the end of my blunt sizzle up. With a strong inhale, I felt the smoke cloud my lungs, and everything became less colorful.

  My only other vice left was somewhere between a teenage habit and what some mortals deemed medication.

  Cotton Candy stirred next to me, rolling over to face me with a smile.

  Not the smile I wanted.

  “Morning, stud…” Her voice was even as jolly as her hair. It annoyed me just as much too.

  “Door is that way, toots…” I barked out a command with no wiggle room to negotiate any other fate to this.

  “I’m off today. Wanna get breakfast?”

  “I don’t do breakfast. I have somewhere to be. Nothing personal, great lay, but you aren’t living up to what’s in my head.”

  What was living in my head was Luna, on a bed of roses, with flames flicking off us until the world burned down from all the friction.

  Great, now my dick is awake and paying attention.

  I was constantly beating myself up for not remembering her back home. My memories were limited to Arianna still, not budging past her. I didn’t know what could be done to knock them loose, so I sat back and enjoyed the beating I gave myself—silently and mentally.

  Working for a company named after the goddess of victory is weird. I could feel her glory etched in every stitch of clothing with a Nike tag.

  It was like the gods didn’t at all.

  Caellum was behind the register, observing us all trying to sell shit that none of us cared about. I couldn’t fake giving a shit, so I didn’t.

  I would pick whatever object I felt like tossing around that day and ignore guests, until they invaded my space, forcing me to pay attention.

  Caellum was hellbent on finding a new way home, but giving him a management position was as dangerous as a crown.

  “Seriously? Basketball? Don’t make me fire you, Nyx.”

  He had been threatening to fire me since day two of us being here, when he wasn't the manager.

  Taking him seriously meant submitting to him as no longer an equal. Everyone in the circle knew Arianna and I were the only kids of two anchoring kingdoms of our world.

  Polar opposites.

  Without a doubt, we were the strongest, with the most untainted royal blood, even if everyone refused to see it that way.

  “Then fire me, boss man.”

  Threatening me with an empty threat never went well. I would see your threat and raise you a full demise for failing.

  I was biting my tongue around Caellum. He practically stepped into Bolton’s shoes the minute the ritual happened.

  Caellum had become my friend.

  With a stern look, he snatched the basketball and ordered me to go fold shirts.

  I tried to feign excitement in my voice: “Great! I love folding.”

  No punishment he doled out was going to break my character. My dad ruled the Underworld, stole his queen, and tortured people for fun, when he wasn’t fighting with Zeus.

  Punishment coursed through me like second nature.

  I winced, walking over to the display of clothing, remembering the perfect punishment I gave Luna.

  My phone didn’t have one message, not even an angry one putting me in my place.

  Luna didn’t like confrontation. She avoided it at all costs, except with me…

  She had no problem telling me to go fuck myself, telling me I was too old to communicate this badly, or my personal favorite: “You aren’t that tough.”

  My retaliations weren’t ever malicious. Instead, I aimed to make her wildly uncomfortable.

  I found Bolton’s contact and typed out a “to the point” message.

  Me: Is your girlfriend still alive?

  Bolton: Do I need to get Luna to tell you you’re being an asshole again?

  Me: If you try really hard. She’s on a Nyx strike right now.

  Bolton and I never really recovered from our last year at Arcadia. Between the blows we took at each other and learning just how connected I was to Arianna, it put a strain on things.

  It felt less easy now.

  Bolton: What did you do this time?

  Me: Her boss. He creeps me out.

  Bolton: Doesn't all of humanity?

  He had a point, but Dorian sent a shiver up my spine that I didn’t like. This was more than jealousy.

  “Nyx! Get off your phone!” Caellum was on another level today.

  Shoving my phone in my back pocket, I went back to folding and ruminating on everything.

  My mind wouldn’t shake how much I hated Dorian.

  I had no real reason other than Luna giving him the things I adored. So what was the shiver rolling up my spine about? Was that jealousy? No wonder men killed over that emotion.

  I was ready to kill him.

  Luna would never forgive me. I was weighing sins and forgiveness at this point.

  At least Luna’s smile would still be my favorite captive.

  Nyx

  I was on autopilot when I found myself parked outside her school after work, waiting to pick her up.

  Telling her she was on her own rescinded my services of transportation too.

  Yet, here I was.

  I moved my car further down the street, but still at a distance I could watch her exchange with her boss.

  I wasn’t delusional. I knew nothing was going on there.

  Nothing sexual at least.

  A man who has had sex with a women looks at her differently. Not like he’s seen her naked, but like he’s seen her soul.

  I watched her touch his shoulder and say a lingering goodnight. Her eyes begged him to make her smile one last time.

  Luna needed something from someone who wasn’t me.

  I held my phone to my ear, waiting for Jasper to pick u
p, and he didn’t until the third ring.

  “I need you to do your little hacker thing and get me information on Dorian. He works with Luna.”

  Jasper snickered and scoffed, one right after the other. “No last name? Just because I can hack my way into just about anything doesn’t mean you guys can’t meet me halfway with basic information.”

  Jasper didn’t care how much information you gave him. What he really wanted was his ego stroked.

  It wasn’t worth the extra effort. Either way I was gonna figure out who this guy was and what he wanted with my little lamb.

  “Just do it, Jasper. I’m not gonna ask any nicer.” My voice was leveled and unbothered, even though that wasn’t how I truly felt.

  “Fine. I’ll come by later.”

  The line went silent, no background noise of his office or small talk clouding the clarity.

  I sat back against the tight leather and watched the smile he brought to her surface stay as she headed toward me down the sidewalk.

  He had a lasting effect.

  Great.

  Pushing down on the gas, I pulled up next to her and kept her pace. The windows were manual, forcing me to lean over and roll the passenger window down so I could get her attention.

  Her green eyes no longer seemed luscious, but rather sharp, when she twisted her neck to face me with a glare. “I’m not gonna pretend I didn’t notice you watching me.”

  At least this Luna was to the point, something I could appreciate.

  “Get in the damn car.” I searched for my zippo, letting my knee press against the wheel to steer for the moment. She was walking painfully slow for someone who wanted to get away from me.

  “No, thanks. I turned down Dorian’s ride too.”

  My gaze suddenly jarred up to see the smirk lighting a fire across her features, all up in mischief’s flames. “Don’t test me, Luna. You know I don’t play nice.”

  “Because you’re selfish, Nyx. Everything you do is for yourself, not me. You don't have a selfless bone in your body.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me, Luna? This isn't about who is the most selfless. You win that battle every time, Little Lamb. You're only made up of obedience and sacrifice. I’m not. I can't change who we are.”

  “Exactly…” She finally stopped and faced me, and I pushed my body lower to see her perfectly out of the passenger window. She was a bright shade of pink, and her arms folded, while delivering her next reality check I was fully aware of: “You can't fix me or beg enough to bring the old me back.”