Adaptive: A Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The Elite Trials Book 2)

by Becky Moynihan

  I rolled my eyes. At least I could still do that. When he was gone for over a minute, my attention strayed to the bedroom door. Had he locked it? Anyone could enter and stick a knife in my chest even with Brendan only yards away. I was that helpless. Crap. Did the handle just turn? My heart rate soared and I strained to pry my mouth open.

  “Lune, what’s wrong?” Brendan burst into the room wearing nothing but sweat pants. He crouched next to the bed, scanning the room for threats. “I could smell your fear. Did anyone come in here?”

  He fixed his attention on me, waiting for a response, but I was too busy soaking up the sight of him. Crap, he looked good. Could his shoulders be any broader? My jaw would have dropped under normal circumstances. Get your hormones under control, idiot, my mind wisely hissed at me. I met his eyes and quickly blinked twice. Then focused on the door.

  “You want me to lock it?”

  Blink.

  He straightened, and as soon as I heard the snick of the lock engaging, I sighed. It might be a false security measure, just like hiding under a blanket at night, but it calmed my thoughts all the same. Although, a half-naked Brendan Bearon standing in the middle of the room wasn’t going to allow me any sleep. How did I convey with my eyes that he needed to sit down and put a shirt on?

  When he raised a hand to rub at the back of his neck—a habit that I was beginning to think meant he was feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable—I was equal parts fascinated and amused. His bicep flexed and I couldn’t look away. The ridges of his abdomen tensed and hardened, demanding my full attention, so I obliged. If only I could—

  “You gotta stop staring at me like that,” he said, and when my gaze flew to his, I inhaled sharply at the look of want there. My pulse shot through the ceiling. Something strange had come over me, this blatant boldness, and apparently it wasn’t finished yet.

  Blink blink.

  His eyes rounded, then he laughed in surprise. “Is Lune Avery flirting with me?”

  Blink.

  “Wow, um.” He ducked his head, still chuckling. “This may be the craziest but best conversation I’ve ever had.”

  When he peered up at me through those impossibly dark lashes, I rolled my eyes. His face split into the most gorgeous grin I’d ever seen, and my heart melted into a pathetic little puddle. I would do just about anything to keep him smiling like that.

  His attention shuffled over the room before landing on the gray couch behind him. “You should get some sleep. I’ll, uh, take the sofa.” I waited for him to look at me, then blinked twice. His brows rose. “Do you need anything?”

  Blink.

  “What?”

  Of course I didn’t answer, but I spoke with my eyes just the way he had when our situations had been reversed. Even as I did, my mouth dried. The thought of him next to me while I was so vulnerable . . . Crap. It thrilled and scared me. But I didn’t care that my heart was beating so hard it almost hurt. Not when I desperately wanted him as near as possible. So I continued to hold eye contact despite the heat flooding my cheeks.

  He swallowed, then nodded, no longer smiling. But I didn’t mind. Because I could tell he was feeling the exact same thing I was—an incessant need to be close. “I’ll just, um, put a shirt on,” he said, his voice low and rough, making my stomach flutter.

  Double blink.

  Crap, did I just do that?

  He paused midstep, searching my face for clues to what I was thinking. He wouldn’t find any. I was purely running on instinct and hormones right now. Thoughts had fled me long ago. And maybe he saw that. He pressed his lips together to suppress a smile. I would have suppressed a ridiculous giggle if my vocal chords were functioning.

  I didn’t look away as he approached, not even when he crawled over me and fitted his body next to mine along the wall. Propping himself up on an elbow, he stared down at me. Then reached a hand out to graze his thumb over my bottom lip. The touch awoke my senses, sent sparks sizzling through my veins. I wanted more, so much more, but he settled in, tucking me close against him. My head rested in the crook of his arm and I breathed him in, letting my eyes drift shut.

  Just before the heaviness of sleep blanketed me, before my string of consciousness dimmed, I felt his lips press a kiss to my forehead and heard him whisper, “You’re my everything.”

  I didn’t know how long I’d slept, but when I woke, my muscles responded to my commands. A little stiffly, but I relished the rusty feeling in my joints. I can move. Wiggling my toes, I grinned, then realized my cheek was pressed to something deliciously warm. The view that greeted me when I opened my eyes was . . . nice. More than nice. My hand, which was resting on a chest, began to explore. The hard planes were foreign to my fingers, but that didn’t stop me. They traveled south to those distracting abdominal ridges I’d seen last night.

  Brendan’s breathing pattern changed then and so did mine. My body was fully awake now, tingling with the desire to keep moving. And maybe it was my close brush with death that erased all shyness, but I wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity.

  I rolled, wrapping a leg around his as I laid partly on top of him. His hands shot up, grasping my hips, and I gasped softly. At the noise, he jerked awake. Shock, confusion, then desire warred within his golden irises. I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

  “Scala ad Caelum,” he murmured gruffly, sliding his hands up my sides. I shifted, pressing myself closer to him and he groaned. My stomach clenched tightly as the sound rumbled through me.

  I ran a hand up his chest. He shivered under my touch, then dipped his fingers beneath my tank top. The warmth of his palm on my bare back made me want to take things further. I rubbed my thumb over his bottom lip, once, twice, until he was leaning up for a kiss. With a wicked grin, I arched away from him. At the look he shot me, like a predator who’d been told to chase, excitement jolted through me.

  He growled and flipped our positions, pressing me into the mattress. I gasped as his mouth hungrily came down on mine. Our last kiss had been intense, but nothing like this one. This one was . . . ferocious. All teeth and nipping and tugging. I wound my arms around his neck, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth. He pulled away, only to claim my mouth again, breathing raggedly as he kissed me over and over like he would never get enough.

  My fingers slipped down his neck, digging into his shoulders. His kisses became even more demanding and I opened my mouth, letting him slide his tongue inside. The taste of him was sheer bliss. Memories from last night, of my desire to apologize for the awful thing I’d said to him, flitted through my thoughts. I shoved them away, angling my head so our kiss deepened. Every inch of me burst into flames. Grabbing his face, I dragged my teeth over his lip. His stomach flexed over mine as he rose up, bringing me with him.

  He curled my legs around his waist, then slid both hands beneath my tank top. My back heated under his touch and I pressed myself against him, kissing his jaw, the thundering pulse at his neck, the hollow of his throat. Why do it? Why enter Tatum City? I paused as yesterday’s words replayed in my head, then trailed my fingers down his neck.

  To right the wrongs I’ve made.

  I flattened my palms against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Grimacing, I leaned forward and pressed my forehead to his shoulder. I struggled to breathe past the ache building in my throat.

  He’s doing penance. It’s the only way he can sleep at night.

  Brendan’s touch became comforting circles on my back as he sensed my shift in mood. My chin wobbled. He was lending me comfort, after what I’d said? I had ridiculed his purpose, his reason for facing a painful existence filled with regret. I couldn’t imagine what he must have gone through to protect his sister. And instead of offering a sympathetic ear, I’d shamed him.

  When he whispered, “What’s wrong?” I broke.

  A strangled sob left me. The sound unleashed a flood of tears. He tried to pull back, probably worried that he’d overstepped boundaries and w
as riddled with more guilt. I threw my arms around his neck and clung to him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” The words hurt to say, like apologizing wasn’t something I often did or allowed myself to do, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. The stress of last night must have gotten to me. Or maybe subconsciously I’d been wanting to do this for awhile now.

  “I’ve been self-centered ever since arriving here, thinking only of my wants and needs. And all this time, you’ve only thought of others. You let yourself get stabbed so I wouldn’t. You let people use you so they wouldn’t hurt your sister.” His muscles tensed at that, but I wasn’t finished. “When I thought I was going to die last night, I poured all of my energy into calling for your help, and you—you came.”

  He ran a soothing hand over my hair. “I’ll always come for you. No matter what. I’m drawn to you in ways that I don’t understand. I heard you in my head, crying out for help, and there was nothing, nothing that would have kept me from getting to you.”

  I hugged him harder, but after a moment, he carefully grasped my arms and lowered them to my sides. His thumb tipped my chin up so that I met his eyes. Mine were probably red and swollen, but I didn’t care, not when he was looking at me that way. Not like I was fragile glass about to break, but something rare. And precious.

  Then his expression changed. Saddened. His mouth formed a smile a second later, but I’d still seen.

  “Come with me,” he said, rising from the bed with my legs still clinging to his waist. “Well, I didn’t mean that so literally, but this works.” I quickly disentangled myself and set my feet on the ground, taking a step back. Brendan leaned forward, whispering in my ear, “You’re adorable when you blush.”

  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to shove him or kiss him for teasing me. Before I could do either, he held up a finger and unlocked the door, disappearing down the hall. I stayed put, but really wanted to lock the door, just in case. He was back a minute later with boots and a coat I hadn’t worn yet. Or maybe I had—I’d been on a mountain when they’d found me. Wait. “Where are we going?”

  Placing the bundle in my arms, he made for the bathroom. “You’ll see,” he said with a wink. When he entered the room again dressed similarly to me, my fingers started to tingle with anticipation.

  As we walked down the hallway, Yukiko appeared out of nowhere, also wearing warm clothing. She took one look at me and my barely restrained excitement, then rolled her eyes. “She’ll need to be blindfolded.”

  “Is that really necessary?” Brendan said.

  “Dr. Moore’s orders. And mine. We don’t take chances, Bren, you know that. Just be glad I’m not throwing a bag over her head.”

  His lips thinned, but he didn’t argue. I didn’t say anything, too busy wondering if Yukiko hated me enough to stab me in the back or strangle me in my room. The attacker’s skin had been pale . . .

  As soon as we stepped foot in the elevator, she handed a black swath of fabric to Brendan who glanced at me apologetically before tying the blindfold securely behind my head. Everything went dark, but when he laced his fingers through mine, I couldn’t stop a small smile from leaking through my false composure. Several minutes of beeping doors, elevators, and stairs later, we stopped.

  The air felt . . . chilled. I shifted in place, unable to hold still. Brendan’s hand squeezed mine and he laughed softly. “Are we there yet?” I asked, itching to take the blindfold off.

  “Not yet. There’s one more thing we gotta do first. But you’re gonna need to trust me.”

  I tilted my head, curious at the amusement in his voice. This better not be some elaborate prank. He chuckled as my nose wrinkled with suspicion, but I didn’t balk when he tugged me forward, or when my legs brushed up against a hard and bumpy object. My fingers blindly felt along its surface, which was smooth one second, then leathery the next.

  “Hop on,” Brendan said, and I heard him pat something. My frown of confusion became a squeak of surprise as a hand wrapped around my right leg and lifted it up and over the large object. I pitched sideways, but an arm circled my waist, stopping my fall. I really hoped that was Brendan and not Yukiko.

  “Be back in one hour. You know what happens if you get caught,” Yukiko said from somewhere behind me, and I relaxed against the grip that wasn’t hers.

  “Probably more than anyone. Ready?” Brendan said directly in front of me.

  Was I? Maybe if I knew what happened if we were caught. Or what I was currently straddling. I tentatively settled onto the leathery surface beneath me. It felt solid enough. The arm around me disappeared and the seat I was perched on roared to life. Literally, figuratively, every sense of the word. The sound was deafening. Okay, maybe not that bad, but loud enough for me to shriek and clutch at Brendan’s coat for dear life. His body shook. Was he laughing?

  “Here, put this on. Safety first,” he said over the noise. Something pressed into the sides of my head and I retreated, batting away the intrusive object. “It’s a helmet. And no, helmets don’t make you weak.”

  That was a weird thing to say. I grabbed the bulky headwear and wrestled it on while Brendan made sure my blindfold didn’t slip. Now that I was officially uncomfortable and clueless about everything that was happening, I signaled my readiness. Game on.

  I felt him lean back and murmur, “Better hold onto something, little bird,” with an incredibly amused tone, then the object we were on jolted forward. Instinct had me curling my body around his. Even my legs lifted, trying to fit their way onto the seat. He was definitely laughing now. His whole back was shaking.

  Oh, I was so getting him back for this.

  Sharp wind tore at my clothing. Air froze in my lungs. The ground felt a million miles away. I should have been panicking, or at least nervous. I should have demanded that Brendan remove the blindfold. But all I did was press closer to the man I trusted and grin like a fool.

  The growling machine beneath us crested what must have been a hill and went airborne. My heart launched into my throat. That split second of weightlessness, when the only option was to give up control and simply live in the moment, barreled through me. I laughed, the sound breathless and unchecked. I almost threw my arms wide, but stopped myself just in time.

  “I want to see!” I yelled, the wind practically snatching the words out of my mouth.

  We rolled to a grumbling halt a minute later. The machine switched off. I all but bounced off the seat, tugging on Brendan’s coat impatiently. “Hold on, wiggle worm,” he said with a laugh.

  “Did you just call me a worm?” I scowled as he removed my helmet.

  “It’s an expression, like calling someone a worry wart or cranky pants . . .” He didn’t finish upon seeing my face as the blindfold fell away. Sunlight pierced my vision, so intense I almost squeezed my eyes shut, but I kept them narrowed on Brendan. Worry shadowed his once jovial look. “What—?”

  I pounced. Wrapping my arms and legs around him, I threw my weight to the side. For a second, he didn’t budge. But I’d caught him by surprise so, with a grunt, he tipped off the machine. Crunch! We landed in packed snow at least a foot thick. When my head popped up, it was to see a stunned, slack-jawed Brendan splayed out next to me, half buried in a drift.

  Laughter burst out of me. As my body spasmed uncontrollably, I crawled to him. I drank in his utter confusion, knowing the best was yet to come. I almost collapsed into the snow in a fit of giggles, but somehow, I held it together.

  “Here,” I gasped. “Let—let me help y-you.” As I reached a hand out to haul him up, I darted the other toward his face. Reflexively, he blocked me, but that was okay. I had a different target in mind.

  My loaded fist wiggled under his shirt collar and released its cold contents. He yelped, shooting up faster than I thought humanly possible. I cackled and rolled onto my back, rocking back and forth as he shook the snow out of his shirt.

  “Payback,” I singsonged. His eyes, flashing with wicked intent, swung my way. I pointed a finger at him. “He
y, we’re even now. I call a truce.”

  An evil grin swept over his face. “Let me help you up, little bird. You look cold.” He took a menacing step toward me.

  Crap.

  I scrambled to my feet and fled down the hill, not getting very far before his arms wrapped around my waist and swung me in a circle. My head fell back as I laughed some more, too happy in the moment to care if I half froze to death out here. When had I ever felt this . . . free?

  Never, my mind whispered.

  I stopped struggling and Brendan lowered me to my feet. He looked as happy as I felt and the sight stole my breath. Rising up on tiptoe, I pressed my lips to his cheek. “Thank you,” I murmured.

  He pulled back and graced me with the sweetest smile, making my heart ache. “For what?”

  “For this moment.” I let myself stare into his eyes for the sole purpose of memorizing their shape, their color, the way they were watching me now. “I’ll never forget it.”

  Because I was so close, I saw the shadow that passed over his expression, saw the sadness return, the indecision. A faint line formed between his brows. His mouth opened, then closed. “I—” His voiced cracked, and he cleared his throat roughly. “I have something to show you.” He threaded his fingers through mine and I followed as he led me uphill.

  The climb was fairly steep, and even though I’d exercised nearly every day for the last couple weeks, I started to huff and puff after a handful of minutes. Brendan glanced back at me, fake concern pulling the corners of his mouth down.

  “Shut up,” I muttered, which only made him smirk.

  As we rounded a sharp bend and the trees fell away, revealing a large clearing blanketed in sparkling snow, Brendan said, “Close your eyes.” I looked at him skeptically. But when he added, “Don’t make me blindfold you again,” I did as instructed with a groan.

  The more we climbed, the more intense the sun became. My eyelids were bathed in a warm red and I ached to open them. Brendan’s back was to me. I could just take a tiny little peek . . .