by Lyn Forester
Chest tightening, I allow myself to relax against him. My hands lift to thread through his carefully combed black hair, holding him close. “Welcome back.”
His fingers leave my elbows, his arms winding around my waist. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” I turn to rest my cheek against his soft hair and breathe in the spice of his cologne. My heart picks up speed, then settles, calmed as always by Connor’s touch. “Being home was... difficult.”
“How serious is this secretary situation?” He whispers the question against my neck, and a shiver rolls down my spine. “Should we be worried? Should I be worried?”
“I—” I cut off, not sure what to say.
Declan and I have discussed our plans to escape our family obligations, but never in front of Felix and Connor. It never felt intentional before, but did he have reason to keep it from them? Will it cause a rift between us?
Connor’s head lifts, and he gazes down at me. “Sparks?”
The confession trips down my tongue, needing to be said, but I swallow it down. The effort to hold the secret back trembles through my body.
His expression softens. “I won’t judge you for whatever happened.” A cool hand lifts to my cheek. “I just need to know where we stand.”
I turn my face into his palm, seeking comfort, and calmness flows through me. Whatever else, I’m certain of this. “I’m with you.”
Relief smooths the tension from his shoulders, and his eyes drop to my lips. My heart picks up speed once more, remembering the gentle passion of his kisses. Our encounter at the party was too brief, a moment in time that I want to bring back.
My hands lift to his shoulders, my palms tingling at the hint of hard muscle. Unlike Declan, Connor and Felix are slender, but sinewy, with a strength all their own. The seemingly unobtrusive power of Connor’s hands as they splay over my back, drawing me closer, sends a thrill through me.
Lips parting, I rise onto my toes to close the distance between us.
“Caitlyn?” Garrett’s voice calls. “Connor? Where did you guys go? I think I came up with a solution for our differing ideas on how to handle the project.”
Frustrated, my fingers curl into Connor’s shirt, scrunching the white fabric before I drop back to my heels.
We separate as Garrett comes into view.
His sandy eyebrows lift as he glances between us. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
A blush creeps into my cheeks, but Connor’s voice stays level. “Just finished.”
“That was fast.” I search his tone for any hint of mockery, but find none. After only a beat, he gives us a cordial smile. “So, back to the study room? You can fill me in, then I’ll tell you what I came up with.”
Connor’s quiet voice fills in the gaps of my silence as we walk back to the table we abandoned. Somehow, he manages to make it sound like we actually researched new information instead of using the time in less scholarly pursuits.
As I settle back into my seat, Nikola catches my attention as he looks between the three of us.
His impassive expression makes my hackles rise. I’ve seen that mask before. He perfected it when we were kids. He only dons it when he feels the need to hold back comment, and based on our most recent interactions, I can only assume he disapproves of my relationship with Connor.
Our gazes meet for a moment before his thick lashes drop to veil his eyes.
Beneath the table, Connor’s knee bumps against mine, and my attention jerks to him. Silent, his fingers brush over my clenched fist, and calmness sweeps through me once more. Judgment be damned, I won’t let Nikola ruin what I have here.
I force my hand open and lift my stylus once more while, below the table, I press my knee firmly against Connor’s. His eyes widen for a moment before he takes the invitation and scoots his chair closer, his thigh pressing against the length of mine. His nearness allows me to breathe easier, to relax, and I check the time in the corner of my tablet.
One more hour.
One more hour until dinner.
One more hour until we can quit the library and ditch my babysitters.
With a deep breath, I force myself to focus on my work and not on the quiet energy that hums where Connor and I touch.
Cracks
“Garrett, a moment, if you will?” Nikola calls as we head out of the library. Connor and I pause as well, but Nikola waves us on. “We can find the cafeteria again without an escort.”
The corners of Garrett’s eyes tighten, but he turns back to Nikola. Whatever tentative agreement they came to last night strains, ready to break.
What Garrett revealed at breakfast festered in the back of my mind throughout the day. He’s older than Nikola, a year ahead of him in school, which would have placed him in a position of power over my childhood friend. It must not be easy to be reduced to the same level now, in a school that does not acknowledge hierarchy at all.
Felix abandons Trevor and runs toward us, a tense smile on his lips. With the way our group casually interacts, I forget sometimes that Declan and Felix are at a lower station in life than me and Connor. I can’t imagine either man delegated to silent partner, servant to someone of more power.
I peek at Connor from the corner of my eye. What must he feel, to go from second son to demi-Councilor? Relief? Guilt for usurping his brother’s rightful place?
Felix reaches us and grabs my hand without slowing his pace. With a startled laugh, I stagger after him as he runs for the door, Connor close behind.
The fading dual suns shine down on us as we run down the steps, but instead of veering for the cafeteria, Felix heads in the direction of the dorms.
My satchel bounces against my hip at our fast pace, and I clutch it with my free hand, afraid my tablet will slip free.
When we near the dorm, Felix’s course stays straight and confusion sets in. “Felix, where are we—”
Felix glances over his shoulder, his eyes moving past me. “Bro?”
“On it.” When I look back, I find Connor already halfway up the steps to the dorm.
My pulse trips to realize we’re now alone. “Felix?”
“Just wait.” Felix tugs me toward the entertainment hall, up the steps, and through the main game room.
With our class cut short, even with the time in the library, we’re the first ones here, the 8-Ball tables set up and ready, but unused. Above, a plas-glass wall on the second floor reveals an empty ballroom.
As we run toward the sound-proofed theater room at the back, my heart trips for a different reason altogether. With all the upheaval at school and returning home, I lost track of time. Is there a disc-bike race tonight? The main race for the season ended, but maybe preliminaries already started?
Like the front hall, we find the dimly lit theater devoid of students.
Dark-gray curtains cover the walls to cut off noise from the other rooms. Plush couches, covered in dark blue on blue paisley, sit two deep in front of the large holo-screen. With the lights off, the room will be pitch black for a full-immersion experience. Carpet muffles our steps as we head for the couch in the front, where a low coffee table offers a place for snacks.
After all the running, my throat feels parched, and I consider going to the outer room where a mini-bar is always stocked with triple-filtered water. An extravagance on most levels, the clean, chilled liquid sounds perfect right now.
Slipping off my satchel, I set it on the coffee table. “How much time before the race starts?”
Felix glances down at me, his face in shadows. “Race?”
I gesture to the large holo-screen. “Isn’t that why we’re here?”
He shakes his head slowly before he releases my hand to grasp my elbow. “No, I needed somewhere private to talk to you.”
“Oh.” My chest tightens, apprehensive at our sudden solitude.
I’m not sure I want Felix to talk to me. It sounds too foreboding. After his upset this morning, and him ignoring me in class earlier, I worry wha
t he’ll have to say.
Hoping to head him off, I blurt, “Look, I had no choice in Nikola and Garrett—”
His finger against my lips silences me. “I know.”
I blink, startled by the sudden touch. It fills my head with urges that send a fine tremor through my body. My lips want to pucker, to kiss the finger, to feel it move against my sensitive skin. My tongue sticks against my teeth, the only barrier that holds me back from tasting him, from discovering the texture of his fingerprint. The desire drowns my mind and mires me in a swamp of choices.
But before I can dig my way out, his finger drops away. His grasp on my arm tightens to hold me in place.
As if any part of me wants to escape him.
He reaches up to brush a loose curl away from my brow. “Sprinkles.” He sighs, his whole body moving with the motion. “I was an ass this morning, and I’m embarrassed at myself.”
My lips part in shock, and he shakes his head to stave off my response. Which is good, because I’m stunned speechless. Of all the thoughts that ran through my head, I never once considered Felix would want alone time to apologize for his actions.
He glances at the couch, then motions for me to sit.
My legs fold automatically, and I sit at an angle, one knee drawn up onto the cushion to face him.
He scrubs a hand through his hair, further mussing the already messy waves. “I was excited to see you again, outside of the restraints of society’s judgment, and seeing you with them—” He sighs again. “It felt like our families followed us here. Like, even in this glass bubble, away from politics, we wouldn’t be allowed to be ourselves.”
“I feel the same, having them here,” I admit and reach for his hand. “I thought here, at least, I would only have to perform well academically to appease my father, but now it feels like...”
“The cage has gotten smaller.” At my surprised look, Felix lifts a hand to my cheek. “I don’t want your walls to come back up. Not after you finally let me inside.”
One side of my mouth kicks up in a wry smile. “I don’t think you had to fight too hard to tear them down the first time.”
His fingers drift down to trace my jaw. “Seven races.”
My skin tingles, and I struggle to focus. “What?”
“That’s how many days before Sparks smiled at us.” His touch moves to the corner of my mouth. “We’d been competing against you for seven races before you did anything but frown at us.”
“Well, you did just show up out of nowhere and put my win streak in the toilet.”
“Declan beat you by five seconds on that race.” He brushes my bottom lip. “But instead of getting angry, you smiled. It was the brightest thing I’d ever seen. Starshine in a world of green.”
Warmth heats my cheeks. “I think your night goggles were acting up.”
At Lights-Out, when the time-wardens turn the holo-sky off, the city in the lower levels becomes pitch black. Night goggles are the only way to see, and they turn everything into shades of green. They pick out warmth and bright colors in flashes of white, but they don’t differentiate emotions, and certainly not smiles.
“It took two season-cycles for your walls to crack. I don’t want to go back to that.” He leans closer, gaze on my mouth. “I like you as Sparks. You’re fun, competitive, and don’t hesitate to trash talk. I like you as Sprinkles, soft and sweet, but willing to push back.” He pulls my hand to his arm, where the indent of my teeth still mark him. “You’re fierce, strong, and beautiful.”
My heart pounds, and I lean forward, ready to close the gap between us.
His next words freeze me. “But Caitlyn Lonette scares me.”
My chin jerks up, the admission a splash of ice.
Felix traces my face once more. “Caitlyn Lonette is a statue. Someone to be admired, but never touched. Out of reach for someone like me.”
An ache opens in my chest. “Felix—”
His finger covers my lips once more. “Stay Sparks, stay Sprinkles. At least while we’re here. Let me taste freedom a little longer.”
Sadness wells in my heart. I don’t want to be the Caitlyn he describes. I played my part well while under my father’s watchful eye. But I don’t know that I’m the Sparks or Sprinkles Felix believes me to be, either. Isn’t that just another role I played? The low-level disc-bike racer. The carefree student.
Which Caitlyn is the real one? My mind circles back to that conversation with Grandmother in the garden as she spoke of the Mortium plant. A twenty-year gamble for the chance the delicate plant will bloom to heal instead of kill.
The hope sits too heavily on my shoulders, and Felix’s request only weighs me down more. How can I be who he needs when I don’t know myself?
Light fingers touch my chin. “Hey, don’t be so sad.”
“I don’t want to disappoint you.” But isn’t that what I’ll be doing in the long run? What Declan and I will both be doing when we leave? Two betrayals at once. What will happen to Felix? My breath catches, my throat thick with restrained emotion. “I’m going to hurt you.”
“That’s okay.” He strokes my cheek, his gaze serious. “Pain is part of living. Just promise to make it right when you’re done.”
“Felix—”
He leans closer to press a chaste kiss against my lips, sending tingles of energy through me. “I trust you, Sprinkles.”
I clutch his arm, fingers digging into the wounds already left on his body. “You shouldn’t.”
“Yet, here we are.” He catches my wrist and brings my hand to his chest, pressing it over his heart. “I love you, Sprinkles. I’ve never said that to anyone before, and I won’t say it again. If you hurt me, break me, leave me behind, I’ll still chase after your light-stream until you have no choice but to come back to me.”
My chest tightens, protests festering in my stomach. He shouldn’t hinge so much on me, not when we barely know each other, not when I plan to leave. Because, no matter how much I care for him, I despise being Caitlyn Lonette more. It’s a poison in my heart that will eat away at every spark in my being until it leaves me a hollow shell. I don’t know how to be strong like Grandmother hopes. I’ll be consumed if I stay.
“Felix.” I rise up on my knee to grip both of his shoulders. “I need to tell you something.”
“It’s okay.” He clasps my waist to pull me closer, his head dropping to my chest. “I know you’re not at the same place I am. I can wait. We have time for me to convince you.”
“That’s not what—”
“I have the snacks!” Connor calls as he strides into the theater, a basket over one arm.
The words stick in my throat, and I struggle to push them out. It doesn’t matter that Connor’s here now. He needs to know, too. But the delicate hope in Felix’s gaze locks my lips, his confession too tender to trample on in front of his brother.
Connor’s steps bring him quickly to us, and he sets the basket on the coffee table. The questioning glance he casts toward Felix is met with a wry smile as his twin flops back on the couch, the mood breaking.
I settle back on my cushion, hands in my lap. Protein shakes, strawberries, and carrots fill the basket. “Why are we having a picnic?”
Connor edges around to my other side and takes the free cushion on my left. “We figured it was the only way to get some time away from your babysitters.”
Felix crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t like them.”
“Just be lucky you didn’t have to attend the same school with them until now.” Connor grabs a protein shake and passes it to me before taking one for himself. “I’ve heard things about the Tri-Worth Academy from some of our peers.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Felix grumbles, not looking at all mollified.
“What kind of things?” This is the kind of gossip I missed out on by being homeschooled. “Aren’t they second only to APA? They have a high success record of their graduates going on to high-level positions in government.”
“Let’s just s
ay they’re not about equality among the students like APA is.” Connor takes a sip of his shake and grimaces at the thick paste. “There’s no blanket rule that what happens in school stays in school.”
I fiddle with my straw. “Garrett mentioned they believe in hierarchy there.”
Felix snorts derisively. “That’s putting it mildly. It’s cutthroat, Sprinkles. Only the strong survive. That’s why they have a high success rate.” Then Felix glances across me to his brother. “Good thing the family decided to go with you as the future councilor, or you would have ended up there.”
The corners of Connor’s lips tighten. “Yeah, I’m full of relief.”
My focus shifts between the two before I settle on Connor. “You were supposed to go to Tri-Worth?”
“Yeah, for the first two years, at least.” The fingers of one hand press against his thigh. “To toughen me up and cement my place as the lesser son.”
My lips part before I close them once more. Curiosity pushes at me to ask how he took over Felix’s birthright as the future head of House Williams, but propriety holds the questions back. Whatever happened to shift the family role would be significant and deeply personal to the twins.
“It’s okay, it’s not a secret.” Felix nudges my shoulder. “It turned out I’m too wild to be respectable.”
What does he mean by wild? Do I want to know? Garrett and Nikola both hinted at it, but hints and true knowledge are completely different beasts.
Instead, I settle on a safer question. “So, why not send you to Tri-Worth once the switch was made official?”
Felix smirks. “Preparedness bit our parents in the ass.”
“They paid for Felix’s spot at APA the same week we were born,” Connor explains.
“Non-refundable, non-transferable.” Smugness fills Felix’s voice. “It would cost them more to send me to Tri-Worth instead.”
I glance between the two men, identical yet so different. Connor with his calm personality, his black hair always styled, and his grass-green eyes alert and watchful. Felix, messier, but no less intelligent, with a restless energy that keeps him in constant motion. Two sides of the same coin. I can’t imagine them separated, one of them beaten and hardened into submission.