by Wendi Wilson
Of course, my mind immediately translated that into “I’m ashamed to be seen with you.” I tried to push the hurt down, to hide it in the deep recesses of my heart, but there was no hiding anything from Easton. He pulled to stop.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said, refusing to meet his eyes.
His fingers found my chin, tilting my head up until I had no choice but to make eye contact. I was sure that, even without his special ability, he’d be able to see the disappointment in my eyes.
“December, tell me.”
There was no point in bending the truth. He would know I was lying.
“I guess I’m just upset that you’re embarrassed by me.”
“What?” he shouted, then repeated at a normal volume, “What? Why would you say that?”
“You said you wanted to get me alone so no one would see us together. I only assumed—”
“First of all,” he said, cutting me off, “that is not what I said, nor was it what I meant. I don’t give two shits what anyone at this school thinks.” He paused and tilted his head, his icy blue eyes boring into mine. “Except for maybe one.”
“Oh,” was the best I could come up with as the blood pounded in my ears.
“Secondly,” he continued, “I wanted to be alone with you for your comfort, not mine. When you sit with me, people will stare. They’ll whisper to each other while making it obvious that they’re talking about us. I knew you’d hate that, so I decided to arrange a more private lunch for us.”
I nodded stupidly, my brain focused on the phrase, “when you sit with me.” Not if. When. As if it were a done deal. No doubt about it.
Easton led me to a set of stairs that I’d never seen before. He motioned for me to go ahead of him and, as I started up, his warm palm pressed into my lower back. Something about the old-fashioned gesture made me all hot and tingly inside. Easton was playing the perfect gentleman, and I liked it. A lot.
When we reached the top of the staircase, I gasped and froze on the spot. Easton moved to stand beside me, his fingers tangling through mine. He didn’t speak. He just let me take it all in.
We were in the glass dome I noticed on the roof of the building when I first arrived at the school. Bright sunshine streamed in through the crystal ceiling and walls, setting the room ablaze as the light reflected off shiny metal statues, glass sculptures, and a sparkling stream that wound through the middle of the room.
Colorful flowers bloomed everywhere—pink, yellow, blue, and every color in between—filling the humid room with their heady fragrances. I walked farther into the room and ran my fingertips across the petals, so soft and smooth, and felt the prick of tears at my eyes.
I’d never seen a flower before and, there I was, surrounded by them. It was almost too much.
“Come on,” Easton said, tugging my hand. “Our food is going to get cold.”
I allowed him to pull me through the conservatory, my eyes drinking in the colors and shapes of the plants all around me. We followed a tile path until Easton veered off and led me through a small gap in a row of bushy plants.
On the other side, a beautiful picnic was arranged next to the small stream. A white blanket was spread across soft grass, topped with two plates of steaming food and a couple of water bottles. I dropped to my knees on the blanket but, instead of digging into the delicious-smelling food, I ran my fingers across the grass.
Easton chuckled as he stretched out across the blanket on his side, propping his chin in his palm. “I thought you might like it here,” he mused.
“It’s like a dream,” I said, trying to assume a comfortable position on the blanket while not flashing my underwear.
Awkward.
I managed to arrange my legs and I was pretty sure Easton hadn’t seen my underwear. Picking up the fork, I scooped up a modest bite of the mashed potatoes and shoveled it into mouth. Easton chuckled, and I arched a brow at him as I scooped up another bite.
“I’ve never seen anyone enjoy food as much as you do,” he said.
“Well,” I said after swallowing the food in my mouth, “when you live your whole life eating nothing but beans with an occasional side of hard bread, you learn to appreciate variety. I think mashed potatoes are my favorite.”
I took another bite, letting my eyes drift closed as the flavor burst on my tongue. When I reopened them, I found Easton staring at me, his signature intensity blazing in his eyes. He made me nervous, but in a good way. My previous life had desensitized me. I’d been a robot, going through the motions and, suddenly, I was alive and present and I didn’t want to miss a single moment.
“Aren’t you hungry?” I asked, breaking the silence between us.
“Yes,” he said, but didn’t make a move to sit up and eat.
For some reason, that made me blush.
“Tell me something about you,” he said.
“There’s not much to tell,” I mumbled.
“What do you like to do for fun?” he asked.
I shrugged, saying, “There hasn’t been much room for fun in my life.” At his frown, I added, “I like to read.”
He nodded, asking me about the books I’d read. He’d read a couple of them, but the gleam in his eyes when I told him about the romance novels had me blushing again. I didn’t know why I even mentioned them. For some reason, that boy could pull information out of me with little to no effort.
“Is one of your powers getting people to tell the truth?” I blurted out as the thought occurred to me.
He cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“When I’m with you, I feel like I can tell you anything and everything, even though I’ve spent my whole life keeping secrets from everyone around me.”
“That just means you trust me, December,” he said, his blue eyes staring at me intently. “And no, I can’t make people tell me things. I can tell if they’re being deceitful, though.” His tongue popped out, wetting his lips, before he said, “Tell me the worst thing you’ve ever done.”
“I stole some things from a market,” I said without thinking.
“What things?” he asked.
“Personal things,” I said. “You know, soap, deodorant, toothpaste.”
“Why’d you do it?”
“Because I needed them, and my foster parents refused to get them for me.”
He stared at me for a moment, then said, “Nope. Doesn’t count. You did that out of desperation and necessity. Pick something else. Something you did out of anger or spite.”
I thought about it for a moment, then mumbled, “I made a girl think all her hair fell out.”
“What?” burst from his mouth on a laugh.
“It’s not funny, Easton,” I said, trying to contain my own smile. “I had no idea what was happening at the time. I was so mad, I mumbled something about wishing all her hair would fall out. Apparently, I Glamoured her with those words and she made a complete fool of herself in the middle of class. She was freaking, thinking it was coming out in huge clumps until she was bald.”
“What did she do to deserve that?” he asked. Before I could answer, he added, “Because there is no doubt in my mind that she deserved it. I can’t imagine you wishing something like that on someone.”
I pressed my lips together, but he waited me out. Why did he think so highly of me? He barely knew me. Did his aura-reading ability really tell him that much about me, that he knew I wouldn’t intentionally hurt someone without probable cause?
He stared at me patiently until I cracked, the words spilling out of me.
“You know that shed you found me in?” At his nod, I continued, “That was my secret spot. Lauren—that’s the girl’s name—took a picture of me sneaking in there at lunch. She posted the picture to social media with a caption that inferred I was…doing things…with boys in there.”
“So,” he mused, finally sitting up and taking a bite of his food, “not only did she make you look slutty, she exposed the one place where
you could go and just be, without prying eyes or gossiping mouths.”
“Exactly,” I said.
“Yep,” he said with a firm nod. “She totally deserved it.”
I smiled. “Yeah, well, it freaked me out and the next thing I knew, I was in the principal’s office and Celeste Greenly was there, recruiting me to a posh private school with a full scholarship.”
Easton smiled back. “Your principal is probably a Sylph. Some of us live out in the human world, keeping an eye on the Zephyrs and watching out for any wayward Fae.”
I wanted to ask him something about the Zephyrs, but the thought flew right out of my head as he slid first his plate, then mine, aside and scooted himself toward me. I remained still, anticipation roaring through me as I waited to see what he’d do.
He licked his lips again, and he really needed to stop doing that. It did things to my insides.
“Lunch is almost over,” he whispered, “and all I’ve wanted to do since the second it began is give you your third kiss.”
His mouth inched closer with every word, his lips pressing against mine with the last one. They were warm and smooth and soft, sending little shivers of pleasure through me. I leaned into the kiss, bringing my hands up to cup his cheeks.
His tongue slipped into my mouth, brushing against mine, and a purring noise vibrated in my chest. It shocked me, and I pulled away, gasping for breath. Easton smiled, running a hand over my head and down the length of my hair before rubbing the ends between his fingers.
He stood, holding a hand out to help me to my feet. We left the conservatory without speaking, but Easton kept my hand folded firmly in his. He led me straight to my locker, but didn’t release me. He just stared at my face, a slight smile playing on his lips, until students poured into the hallway around us.
I kept my eyes on Easton, but I could sense people staring at us. I saw them pointing from the corner of my eye. I heard their whispers and giggles, but I kept my gaze locked on his.
After several more beats, he let his smile burst free, nearly blinding me with its brilliance. Ever so slowly, he lifted our joined hands. Untangling our fingers, he cradled my hand between his and pressed his lips into my palm. A shiver ran down my spine at the feel of it, another chasing the first as he winked and dropped my hand before disappearing into the crowd.
Easton Oberon had just made a statement to me, and to the entire school.
And I couldn’t stop smiling.
Chapter Twenty-Three
23
“If you were…going to…do that…why…didn’t we just…have lunch in the dining hall?”
My words were broken up by my huffing and puffing as Easton and I ran our laps around the gym. I waved my hand in surrender, coming to a halt and propping my hands on my knees. We’d only run two laps and I was exhausted, breathing like I’d just run a marathon, and Easton hadn’t even broken a sweat.
“Did I embarrass you?” he asked.
“No,” I admitted. “I just wondered why you changed your mind about being seen together.”
“You changed my mind,” he said. “The privacy was for you, but I realized something during lunch.”
“What?” I asked.
“That you’re stronger than I gave you credit for. A lot stronger.”
“I am?” I asked.
I was sure more beautiful words had never been spoken. I’d always seen myself as weak, preyed upon by the bullies at school, preyed upon by greedy and lecherous foster parents. I always seemed to end up a victim.
“You’ve had so much negativity in your life, but you always bounce back,” he said. “You’re a survivor, December. A few weeks living in the gossip mill won’t bring you down.”
“A few weeks?!”
He laughed and opened his mouth to respond, but Ms. Jeannie call out to him. He gave me a shrug and a wink before jogging over to her.
A few weeks? I’d assumed the academy was like my old school, where gossip ran its course within a few days before something else happened for the mongers to chew on. If Easton kissing my hand would have the kids here talking for weeks, I had no clue how they’d react if we actually got together.
Were we together? Did a few kisses and one PDA put us in girlfriend-boyfriend territory? I had no idea. I made a mental note to ask Shaela about it.
“Okay, time to start training.”
Easton’s voice startled me out of my contemplative state and I jumped. He smirked, but didn’t say anything about my jumpiness.
“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?” I asked, twirling my finger in a circle to indicate the laps we’d been running.
“That’s our endurance training,” he said rubbing his palms together. “Ms. Jeannie said we could do some light Jiu Jitsu work for the rest of the period.”
I looked over at the mat-covered side of the gym, my lips pinching. Kids were rolling around, flipping each other over and twisting their limbs together into painful looking maneuvers. I couldn’t suppress a shudder.
“Hey,” Easton said, taking my hand, “you’ll be fine. Weren’t we just talking about how strong you are?”
I nodded, keeping my eyes on the mats. The pained expressions, the hands tapping each other to be released…it looked like it hurt.
“I’ll tell you what,” Easton said, using the tip of his finger to turn my face toward him. “I’ll take it easy on you. I promise.”
It was a challenge. I heard it in his voice, saw it on his face. He wanted me to rebel, to tell him I didn’t need any favors and that I could hold my own, but my courage was buried deep under a mountain of insecurity. It only rose up to show its face in moments of desperation.
So I nodded my assent and let him guide me to an empty spot on one of the mats. I hoped it wouldn’t be painful. I was sure Easton wouldn’t hurt me. Well…pretty sure. At least, not intentionally.
We took our shoes and socks off and stepped onto the mat. I glanced around, feeling self-conscious under the stares of several other curious students. I really didn’t want to get my ass kicked in front of an audience.
“Keep your eyes on me,” Easton said, his voice gentle, yet somehow authoritative at the same time.
I nodded, swallowing thickly. I locked my gaze onto his and let the rest of the gym’s occupants fall away. It was just the two of us, him and me.
“Put your hands up like this,” he said, raising his palms toward me with his elbows slightly bent. “Good. Now, when we come together, you’ll want to grab my forearms. If I were wearing a gi, or martial arts uniform, you’d grab the sleeves, but we have to improvise.”
He moved in and I grabbed his arms. He nodded in approval and took another step forward.
“Now hook your heel behind my ankle, like this,” he said, demonstrating. “Pull my foot from under my weight and push, using my arms as leverage. I should fall backward and you should fall down on top of me. Then you’ll want to straddle my waist with your knees.”
I must have blushed, because one side of his mouth ticked up. He held up his arms, and I gripped them like he showed me. Looking down, I lifted my right foot and moved to hook my heel behind his. Suddenly, I was falling backward, and a shocked squeal burst out of me as I landed flat on my back. The air whooshed from my lungs as, in one quick movement, Easton was straddling my hips with his hands pinning down my shoulders.
“You have to move faster, Thorne,” he said, a cocky grin lighting up his face.
“Maybe she likes to be on the bottom,” a sugary-sweet voice called out.
Easton grunted before rolling off me and hopping to his feet in one smooth movement. He held out a hand to me, but I ignored it and pushed myself up. Tiana and Aubrey stood a few yards away, both of them smirking with satisfaction as they watched me and whispered to each other.
“Forget them,” Easton said, his voice quiet, but firm.
“You could have given me at least one practice run,” I complained as I straightened my shorts, which had twisted around in my fall.
&nb
sp; “If someone attacks you, do you think they’ll give you a few chances to warm up?” he countered.
“Who’s going to attack me?” I asked, my eyes skittering to the girls standing nearby.
“No,” he said, seeing where my attention diverted, “they won’t touch you. I was being hypothetical.”
“Well, this is literally my first time doing this, so can you cut me a break?”
He smiled. It was big and bright and full of all the magic in the universe. At least, that’s how it looked to me.
“Not a chance,” he said, lifting his arms again.
Shaking my head, I moved forward and grabbed his arms again. I focused my concentration. I wanted to win. I needed it.
“Drop her on her ass, Easton,” one of the girls called out…probably Tiana. She seemed to be the one who did all the talking.
“Ignore them,” Easton said. “Focus on me. Watch my eyes. Feel my intent.”
I didn’t know what the hell that meant, but I tried to follow his instructions. Moving quicker than before, I tried again to hook my foot behind his. Before I got even halfway there, I felt his heel against the back of my other ankle. Then I was falling again.
I ground out a curse as Easton swung his leg over, straddling me once more.
“Don’t give up,” he said, bringing his face close to mine, his hair flopping against his forehead as he leaned over me. “You need to bridge out of the hold.”
“Bridge?”
“Dig your toes into the floor and lift your hips. Then twist to the side and try to throw me off.”
I tried to do what he said, but there was no budging him. I struggled against his weight, my frustration rising with each attempt.
“Don’t get frustrated,” he said. “You have to keep a cool head.”
“I’m trying,” I gritted out.
Tiana and Aubrey laughed again, the sound echoing around me and seeping into my bones. My face heated with anger or embarrassment or some combination of the two. I wasn’t really sure. But I was sure that I needed to get Easton off me. Somehow, I needed to escape and show him, and those girls, that I had it in me to win.