by Alyssa Cole
“You look really pretty tonight.” I barely had time to register the compliment before he shoved a sleeping bag into my lap and dropped the tote bag full of food containers on top. I was sure my makeup looked like some kind of Rorschach test after my crying jag, but if he liked what he saw then that was fine with me.
Danielle managed to wake up enough to stumble to my room with assistance. “He told me it was just tea,” she slurred as we tucked her into the bed, then fixed us with a hopeful look. “Are we having a slumber party?”
“Yes,” Edwin replied seriously. “Maggie’s closet is too messy to play Seven Minutes in Heaven, though.”
I rolled my eyes at him, but it got a sleepy laugh out of Danielle, so it was okay by me.
“My parents said I had to wait until junior year to have a sleepover, but junior year never happened.” She smiled sadly.
“We can have as many sleepovers as you want,” I said. When I saw the excitement that lit up her face, I added, “Within reason.”
After chugging some water, she said she just wanted to sleep, so we tucked her into my bed. She flew up into a sitting position just before she started to drift off and pulled her panda down tightly around her ears. “Please don’t touch my hat.” Her eyes were wide with real fear. I knew a thing or two about security blankets, but the terror in her eyes was heartrending.
“We would never do that without asking,” I said.
She stared at me suspiciously for a minute, then her eyes slowly drooped shut and she turned over and settled into my pillow.
Edwin left to heat up the chili in the communal kitchen. In the silence, I wondered if Devon was still there and if he knew what had happened. Would he even care? Weariness descended on me then. It had been a long enough night; I wasn’t ready to come to terms with the many levels of his betrayal just yet.
When Edwin came back, he held a pot and two spoons.
“Ooo, classy,” I said. I placed a towel on the floor under the pot and accepted a spoon from him. I didn’t know what to say, now that Danielle was asleep. I spooned the too-hot chili into my mouth instead, immediately squealing and spitting it out into my hand.
Way to reel him in with the sexy, Maggie.
Edwin shook his head and handed me a napkin. “Yeah, it’s hot. Hence the steam pouring off of it?” He pointed to just above the pot, and I burst out laughing. When I took my next bite, the few taste buds I hadn’t burnt off transmitted the news that Larry’s chili was everything I could have imagined and more.
“Mmm. Thank you for making sure I didn’t miss out on this,” I said.
“Ready to play?” he asked. He clumsily shuffled a deck of cards he’d pulled out of his pocket, making me cringe. I reached out and snatched them from him, showing him how to do it without bending the cards.
“I forgot you were a card sharp,” he said. “Remember that game of UNO we played around Christmas last year? The one where Gabriel thought he was gonna win until you hit him with that Skip, Reverse, Draw Four combo? That was the closest I’ve ever seen that dude come to crying.”
I giggled as I remembered the shock on my brother’s face when I’d broken his ten-game winning streak, and the thrill of victory as I’d slapped the Draw Four on the pile. An interesting thought came to me as I dealt the cards. One of the reasons I’d clung to Devon was because of our shared history, and the things he knew about me that no one else did. It’d never occurred to me that Edwin and I had our own inside jokes, and Danielle and I did now too. That was how life worked. I hated to think of it, but even if the Flare hadn’t happened, I could have drifted away from my high school friends, like Marisa. Sharing a past with someone was important, but sharing a future, whether as lovers or friends, was no small potatoes either.
“I’ll try not to make you cry,” I said as I dropped the last card in front of him.
“Your mercy is appreciated in advance.”
The game was boring, but we talked throughout, joking and flirting and pretending that we weren’t both thinking about the kiss in his truck. Each time he took a bite of chili, he licked his lips, leaving them sleek and moist and tempting. I tried to focus on the game, but I couldn’t stop sneaking glances at him. We were half an hour in when Edwin first began slapping down his cards one by one, and I followed suit. Our gazes were locked on one another in what could have been mock intensity, but nothing about it felt playful. “I. De. Clare. War!”
Even though losing cards was a big sore spot for me, I didn’t care who had come out on top. I was studying the smoothness of his lips and the dark stubble that shaded his jawline. His eyes, a lighter shade of brown than mine, didn’t move, but his gaze deepened in intensity. “This is so fucked,” he muttered before swiping the cards out of the way and stalking toward me on hands and knees.
“What, that I’m your friend’s sister?” I whispered, trying to be annoyed but distracted by the fact that his momentum carried him right over me, guiding me back so I was on the floor beneath him. The solid heft of his body was an intoxicating weight, pushing me into the floor that I wished I’d swept now that I might be getting some action on it.
“No. Well, maybe, but I was talking about the fact that poor impressionable Pikachu is right up there on the bed, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to kiss you.” The bulge at his groin twitched, and I jumped in surprise, sliding against him in a way that drew a hiss from him. He gave a rueful chuckle. “Okay, I want to do more than that. I want to know what the skin right here tastes like.”
He ran his calloused fingertip over the patch of skin below my ear, trailing it down my neck, and I felt the caress run straight through me. My hips lifted of their own accord, seeking the pressure and release I was used to getting from my own hand. Edwin’s jeans-clad thigh was between my legs, and the friction of his corded muscle tensing as it came into contact with the bundle of nerves between my legs was something entirely new. I let out a gasp. I could give myself carpal tunnel syndrome for trying and never achieve the same body-clenching pleasure that came from the shift of his leg. Even though Edwin was holding up most of his body weight on his elbows, his thigh was pressing down hard against my clit, moving back and forth as he circled his hips.
“Think you can be quiet?” he asked in a whisper. I thought I’d catalogued all of Edwin’s smiles, but the one he flashed me was new. It was devious and probably the last thing Little Red Riding Hood saw before the wolf ate her up.
“Yes,” I lied. I’d say whatever it took to ensure that he wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t take away the terrifying deliciousness swirling up my spine and making me dizzy with want. Heat screamed through my veins and pressed at my vocal cords, trying to channel the surge of desire outward, like notes through an effects pedal. I pressed my lips together, closed my eyes and focused on the sensation, on my heart pounding in my ears like someone going wild on a drum set.
“Really? I don’t know if I should be impressed or insulted,” he said. He nipped at my collarbone, and I swallowed a soft sigh. Quiet was going to be harder than I thought.
“Whichever one of those things makes you touch me faster,” I said, arching up into him, seeking more than his thigh—wonderful though it was—could give me.
His lips found mine. Enamel scraped over my lower lip, followed by the soothing warmth of his tongue. I ground against his thigh, meeting each press of hard muscle with my clit. His hips moved at a steady rhythm now, and the brush of his cock against my leg was a teasing temptation of what could happen between us.
His hand glided over my stomach, hooking the hem of my T-shirt with his thumb as he pushed up over the swell of my breasts. His fingertips against my bare skin were four little revelations, each one highlighting the fact that I’d been a fool to think he would’ve been the kind of man to just take an inexperienced girl for the hell of it. I could feel Edwin’s desire for me transmitted through touch, revealing
all the things he would do to me—in his own sweet time and because he wanted me, not as a favor.
His palm circled over one nipple through the thin material of my bra, and then the other, and I finally understood what all the fuss was about. It was if his touch was changing me, giving life to nerves that had lain dormant, waiting for just this stroke and just that pinch. His hands were magical.
“Fuck. You’re like a wizard,” I said in a strangled voice, and he choked back a laugh that could have killed the mood, but was tender enough that it only bolstered my pleasure.
“That’s a first,” he said. “I usually prefer to go by God, Jesus or Papi at these moments, but I’ll take wizard.” He paired the grinding press of his thigh between my legs with the lightest, teasing strokes across my breasts, and I wanted to shout from the staccato sensations of pleasure pummeling my body everywhere, not just the places where he touched me.
I bucked against him in frustration. “I need—”
Before I was even finished, he slid one hand from my chest to replace his thigh, his fingers rubbing in a hard circle over just the right spot below the zipper of my jeans.
“Oh God,” I gasped.
“That’s more like it,” he whispered, eyes glinting. His tongue snaked out and lapped at my nipple right through the material of my bra at the exact moment he switched from circling index finger to strumming thumb. Just like that, the pressure in me burst like one of the pipes frozen solid by the winds off the lake—I was far from cold, though. There was warmth between my thighs and warmth in my heart as my climax splintered through me. His mouth moved toward mine, but I wasn’t in control of my body; the arch of my back was so intense that it forced my head to the side, the gritty floor tile pressing into my cheek. His hand slipped over my mouth to cover the animal sounds I was making.
We lay there quietly after, my heavy breaths slipping through his fingers, my body still shuddering as he pulled his hand from between my legs and, eventually, away from my mouth. I pressed a kiss into his palm, and he groaned. He looked at me, his gaze intense, and suddenly burst out into quiet laughter. For a horrifying moment, I thought maybe I’d misjudged him, that he really was what I feared from any man I let touch me. Before I could react, he reached out and plucked something from the side of my face. One of the cards had gotten stuck there.
“Guess which one,” he said, gathering me close to him. He unrolled his sleeping bag and settled us onto it, a surface only slightly more comfortable than the floor.
“Joker,” I said, aiming for self-deprecation. I loved how he’d made me feel, but this type of exposure seemed alien, the act of allowing yourself to come completely undone for another human. That people did it routinely was even crazier.
He squinched his mouth in disagreement and twisted the card so it faced me. “Queen of Hearts.”
That exposed feeling doubled down. Before we’d become friends, I’d assumed that Edwin didn’t want my virginity because he’d expected me to fall for him after, to chase him around like some kind of lovesick fool. Wasn’t that what guys thought virgins did? I’d vowed I would never be that stupid, but I still hadn’t come down from my orgasm and already wanted more.
I plucked the card out of his hands and tossed it across the room, where it wedged in a pile of laundry.
I gave him a saucy smirk and ran my hand over his chest, channeling the same energy I’d had when I’d first strutted down the stairs to be whisked away to school. Better to project cool confidence than to show any fear.
His hand came down over mine. “Maggie.”
I didn’t know what he was going to say next because a siren, several sirens, sliced through the silence of the night.
One minute Edwin was under me, the next he’d pulled some kind of cross fit–inspired jump that had him on his feet and already slipping into his jacket. He’d gone from relaxed to Jason Bourne in a few seconds.
“Where are you going?” I stood—like a normal human and not an action star—and pulled my shirt down.
“Those sirens mean someone’s trying to break in to one of the priority buildings.”
“Probably some kids, right? I mean, this is a college campus. Maybe a couple is trying to have a romantic night at the lighthouse.”
Edwin shook his head. “We’ve been getting a lot of reports about possible subversive activity from the department.” He’d gone into soldier mode, and it was both hot and frightening at the same time. “I don’t think these are drunk lovers having a tryst, unfortunately.”
“Well, why do you have to go? You’re not in the military anymore.” I sounded petty, but the thought of anything happening to him was terrifying.
“Maggie, you know I’m on assignment here for the Department of Infrastructure Repair. I take classes and work on projects, but ultimately I work for the government. Because most security personnel is over at Falling Leaf, I’m one of the few people on campus right now with training to handle this shit.”
“Remember the whole ‘I can’t break twelve necks in a row’ thing? You don’t even have a weapon.”
“My guns are locked up in my dorm room. I have to stop there first,” he said, as if that was supposed to calm me. I looked away from him. “Mags?” He held out his hand for a fist bump, eyebrows lifted as he waited for me to give my blessing. I reached my hand out to give him a reluctant pound, and he grabbed my fist and pulled me in for a kiss. His kiss was teasing and playful, doing a little to ward off the fear the situation had stirred in me. “I’ll be back soon.”
He went out the door and hopped over something, then took off down the hall at a quick jog. I looked down and my stomach turned. I should have been happy to see my guitar case and John’s blazer, to have my cell phone back. But seeing them tossed there left me cold.
Devon.
I pulled the pile into my room, placing it next to a similar heap of clothes, and then locked the door.
“What is that noise?” Danielle was sitting up in bed, her hands over her ears. Her voice was slightly less stoned. “Are we under attack?”
A shudder ran down my spine. “No,” I said. I hoped I was right.
Chapter Twenty
Danielle and I eventually wandered out into our floor’s common area, where our classmates had gathered to pass information.
Devon was nowhere in sight, and I was relieved. It was mean, but I wished he would be shamed enough by his behavior to become a hermit so I’d never see him again. But then, just thinking of all the ways he’d lied to me, and for no reason at all, made me kind of wish he was in front of me. I’d give him the dressing-down he deserved instead of worrying about him like I had when I thought we were friends. The bottom line was simple for me—friends didn’t lie to each other and friends didn’t manipulate each other, and he’d done both. I’d thought trying to forgive him was the adult thing to do, but learning to expect respect from the people in my life was just as important.
Theories about the sirens were swirling in the common room: “Lydia saw a van speeding down the main street toward the maintenance building.”
“Kyle was walking home from a party and said he heard people screaming, but he’d dropped acid before that so it could’ve all been in his imagination.”
“I felt a rumble that was maybe an explosion.”
There was one thing I was glad of—no one tried to go see what was happening. Tragedy had touched everyone just enough to kill the type of curiosity previously seen in horror movies and bad reality TV. Those of us who had internet-ready devices tried to pull up the bare-bones social media networks that were the fastest way of getting news, but we watched our hourglasses spin in vain. The internet was down.
I remembered Edwin saying that the network had been acting up earlier, resulting in the delay in receiving Danielle’s message. Apparently, the same thing had happened to me. When I checked my
phone, I saw John had sent a text earlier in the evening. Weirdness abounds. Stay indoors and call Hernandez if anything odd pops off. I’ll be passing through tomorrow. Make sure to tell your harem they have to vacate the premises before I arrive.
I felt a rush of relief when I read the last sentence. I didn’t know what was going on, but suddenly I was just a little girl who wanted her brother to tell her everything would be okay. Including the fact that his buddy had made her combust on the floor of her dorm room only hours earlier. I didn’t know how we’d handle that little bombshell, or if there was anything to handle this early in the game, but I’d figure that out in the morning.
The sirens stopped eventually, but still there was no word. Danielle and I went back to her room to avoid the scarier ideas our floor mates were bandying about. As I sat and wondered about Edwin’s whereabouts, I appreciated her decorating choice for once. It was hard to feel hopeless with dozens of badass animated heroines thrusting their bosoms at you as they dispatched bad guys with giant swords and ridiculous guns—cutesy didn’t have to mean rabbits and kittens. A sketchbook lay open on her bed, and I picked it up to move it before I sat. She went to grab for it, but I turned and kept it just out of her reach, even though my gaze was latched to the page.
“Holy shit. Danielle! This is amazing!” I sat and stared at a drawing of me, or a much cooler version of me. The character was drawn in an anime style, so my eyes and chest were larger, but my short hair and obnoxious smile were the same. My tool belt encircled my waist, with two drills holstered where guns would be. In one hand I gripped the neck of my guitar, an ax-shaped monstrosity that rested on my shoulder. One foot was propped up on a pile of suitors with hearts in their eyes. The work was incredibly detailed, down to the buttons and indentations on the drill, and so full of admiration that it made me wish I could ever be so worthy.