by Nikki Dean
He stopped to take a drink of coffee, then continued when she didn’t speak up, “Still, you’re a very independent woman, so I can see how it would get on your nerves. It won’t be like that after you move though, and if you’d like, I can replace your doorbell with one of those camera ones while you’re still here. That way you can see anyone that comes to the door without having to open it, plus we’d have proof of him harassing you if he does come back. Same offer goes for any new place you move to.”
Her eyebrows went up in surprise as she took a sip of coffee. “Thanks, Bentley, that’s really thoughtful. I’d appreciate that.”
He nodded like it was no big deal. “Something else is bothering you. Is it your class, and training us?”
She nodded. “I know we talked about it last night, but I just don’t know what to do. On one hand, I could tell my professor that I crossed a line and need to drop the class, then redo the training portion next semester, but that will put me behind on my schedule. I was hoping to graduate next semester and get an internship at one of the sports medicine practices before I have to reapply for financial aid, which they won’t grant for just one class. I was going to coast off of my savings and get a part-time night job, plus a roommate, until I get a paying position, but I don’t think I can do that if I have to retake this class.”
Staring down into her coffee, she sighed. “But I don’t want to hide it from my professor, even though he would probably rather that I did.”
“Why do you feel so bad about this?” he asked, confused. “We can just fill out the forms now if you want, then you can turn them in at the end of the semester, and we all keep training like normal. That way it’s all done without a bias. You’re a really good trainer, Allie, and you deserve the credit for this class.”
“Oh, yeah? You’re not biased at all, huh?” she asked with a little quirk of her lips. “And you don’t think the others are either?”
“Well, not as biased as I will be by the end of the semester, that’s for sure,” he said just before he leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss. “Are you sure you want to do this, Allie?”
She kissed him back, then sat back in her chair, staring at the swirls in her cup as the coffee settled. Am I sure? Four boyfriends is a lot, but I pretty much spend all of my time with them anyway. Greg and Abel make me laugh, even if it’s over different things. I’ve always felt an odd connection with Trevor, even if he makes most other people uncomfortable. The way he stood up to Xander, even though he’s the smallest out of all of them, was really hot. He cares enough to protect me, and already said he’s happy that I’d have the other guys here to keep me company while he’s gone at work. Bentley is interesting, a lot more interesting than I originally thought, and he’s really sweet. Each one of them is really attractive in their own way, even as different as they are.
“You know what, I think I do. I really, really do. I like all of you, and I’m glad I don’t have to choose, because it’d be like picking one part of myself, but denying the rest. Does that sound crazy?” She looked up at him with a happy smile, and allowed him to pull her up to her feet.
“Not at all, Allie. Not at all.”
Chapter 13
3 Weeks Later
“Just put those over there for now,” Allie directed, pointing at the corner of her new bedroom. Trevor nodded and stacked the boxes on top of the pile that was already inhabiting the spot, making sure it didn’t topple over.
Greg and Abel came in next, carrying her king-sized mattress between them, then Bentley with the frame beneath his arms.
“Let me set this up real quick, then you can put the bed down,” he said. Trevor grabbed one half and helped, then tossed the box springs down so Greg and Abel could lower the top mattress.
“Thanks, guys! I think there are only a few more things before we’re done,” Allie said, wiping her hands on her jeans. Daisy ran around them in happy circles before Greg finally called her out of the room after him and let her out the back. They all heard her barking in excitement as she ran around the yard.
“Coming through,” Greg said from the doorway as he reappeared, hauling in another queen-sized mattress. Allie just shook her head and laughed.
“That’s not even the same height as mine,” she said. “You’re going to end up rolling out of my bed every night with that thing.”
“Don’t care,” he replied, then went to get his own box spring and frame. “This is why I voted for you to get the biggest room, remember?”
“You’re ridiculous,” she called after him, then turned back to the others. “Are you moving yours in too, Abel? Should we just line the floor with mattresses and not even bother with anything else?”
Trevor, Abel and Bentley looked at each other, then nodded. “Hey, I’m not gonna argue,” Bentley said when Allie poked him in the side. “I think it sounds like a great idea. I might even put a bed just like this in my room for when you all come to stay with Trevor and I.”
Outnumbered, she threw her hands into the air. “Fine, whatever makes you guys happy. I’m not going to complain until one of you starts snoring, then all bets are off.”
“Daisy’s the one who snores,” Greg replied as he came back in with the rest of his bed. “You’re going to have to talk to her about that, not us.”
Allie rolled her eyes. “Of course it’s her, and not any of you guys. I believe you.”
Abel came over and pulled her into his arms, squeezing her tightly for a second. “Don’t worry, that’s why I left my bed in my room. You can retreat and leave us in here whenever you want.”
“Oh, really now? You’re sleeping in here with me, too?” she whispered back, her heart warmed by his consideration.
“What, and be cold all by myself? Babe, we’re all sticking around, or haven’t you figured that out yet?” he asked, then leaned down for a kiss. His soft lips nipped at hers and she wrapped her arms around his neck before opening for him, inviting him in. He lifted her so that she could wrap her legs around his waist and slid his hands beneath her jogging shorts.
Someone else, Trevor, he always does this, she thought, moved the hair from the nape of her neck and kissed her there. It was Greg’s turn next and he planted a kiss on the side of her throat before going back to setting up his bed right beside hers.
Bentley was last as he came to stand behind her, letting her lean on him as she finished her kiss with Abel, only to turn her head and kiss him next.
“You guys are the best.”
Thanks for reading my first reverse harem, Saving their Trainer! I hope you enjoyed it, and don’t forget to check out my other books on Amazon! My next reverse harem, Basic Witch will be out in September, and is available for preorder here. Keep reading for a sneak peak!
Basic Witch Excerpt
The Meeting
Barely three chapters in, she heard voices, then footsteps heading her way down the tile hall. “Please be the registrar,” she whispered as she stood up from her seat on the floor, brushing her pants off. “Please be here early so I can get this over with.” She leaned around the corner so that she could see down the long hallway.
The voices grew louder and three guys came around the opposite end of the hall, arguing about something. None of them looked any older than twenty-five or so, and it was a good thing they hadn't noticed her yet because she seriously needed a minute.
The guy on the left, the one she saw first, was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Tall, wide shouldered and with a dusky tan coloring his features, he looked like an athlete that had turned to modeling in his off time. His t-shirt was stretched over his shoulders like the seams were about to rip, and his biceps were no less impressive. It hugged firm pecs, then dropped straight down, indicating that whatever was below, it was trim and probably as well muscled as the rest of him. Plaid shorts revealed that the tan continued to his legs, and she found herself wondering what his ass looked like, and if it would be brown as well, or as white as hers.
A perpetual night owl, hers w
as pretty damn pale, but she had a hunch his wasn't. She finally looked up and saw that he had dark, gently curling hair, short on the sides and longer on top that stuck out on the ends, as though he had recently showered and was letting it air dry. The distinct lack of product, or even care, was somehow more attractive as though it was just inviting her to run her hands through it. He had a squarish jaw, wide on the sides but tapering to his chin, all covered with a layer of short, dark hair that looked like it had been sculpted on him. She'd never been a beard girl, but what she wouldn't give to rub her cheek across it, just to see if it was as soft as she imagined. Hell, even if it prickled, she was down for that little layer of bite if she got to touch the rest of him, too.
Honestly, either option sounded good.
One of his buddies said something and they all looked at the paper he was holding, intent on whatever it said. This guy was built similarly to the first, but a little leaner, like he spent less time in the gym and more time running. His well-defined legs filled out his jeans well, the fabric stretching across his thighs every time he took a step. He wore Vans, flat-soled like he preferred riding a skateboard instead of walking, which didn’t quite make sense if he was a runner, but whatever. His hair was longer than the other guys, and pulled back away from his face.
Is that a bun? Mal thought in disbelief. Is this dude for real? I haven't seen a man-bun in the wild in years. Ha.
Still, the hairstyle allowed her to see his face clearly, and what a face it was. He had dark blonde brows, indicating that his hair should be the same color when it wasn't sun-kissed a few shades lighter, and his nose had the most adorable little upturned tip. His lips were a dark pink, almost like they were chapped from too much wind or sun, and framed by a light dusting of short hair, like he hadn’t shaved in a week or so. His beard was much lighter than the first guy’s, and Mal found herself trying to decide which one looked better, since they were both pretty damn sexy on these guys, at least. His t-shirt had a few holes in it, adding to his "don't give a fuck" appearance, like his hair was long simply because he couldn't be bothered to get a trim.
The last guy was closest to her, but he didn't really stand out the way the other two did. At least not with his size. Shorter and leaner, he would still top her by several inches, but it was the way he moved, fluidly and with grace, that had her puzzling over him. His hair was the darkest of them all, reaching past his ears to brush against his angular jaw, only accentuated by the lack of facial hair on his cheeks. Everything about him seemed sharp in some way, from his thick, arched eyebrows to the scar on one shoulder, just peeking out from beneath his tank top. He smiled at something one of the other two said, and the easy expression transformed his face, revealing dimples and soft curves that she never would have imagined were there. Still, she was willing to bet that he was just as dangerous as the other two, in his own way.
Dangerous? Why would I think that? They're probably just grad students or something, maybe even trainers. Still, this academy is the one where magic users come, so I wonder what their powers are. The idea that these imposing men had magic powers on top of their drool-worthy looks was mind boggling, as though they hadn't already gotten lucky enough with their faces. The rest probably took a lot of hard work, but their faces were at least natural.
She must have made a noise, because all three lifted their heads to look at her at once. Mal blinked in surprise, then flushed, annoyed that they caught her ogling.
"Well, what do we have here? Are you lost?" the first one asked with a glance up and down her body. "You don't belong here."
Did he just check me out and tell me I’m not good enough? "What's that supposed to mean?" she shot back, her annoyance deepening at his dismissive tone. "How do you know who belongs here or not?"
"Because I know everyone, and I don't know you." He finally looked at the door she was standing beside. "Are you a new transfer? You just figured out you can move things with your mind?"
"Something like that. I don't see how it's any of your business, though."
"What can you do?" the next guy, the one with the bun, asked. "Anything interesting?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Because he's right, and you don't look like you belong here. Who sent you to this office?"
"I don't see how that's any of your business," she retorted.
“Oh, but it is.”
"Why do you guys think you get to decide who studies here or not?" Not that I want to, but that doesn't mean you get to tell me I can’t. Take it up with Captain Fitzam if you have a problem with me. She couldn't say it aloud, of course, since he had told her that the whole thing yesterday was classified, including her involvement. Only the registrar knew that someone in his office requested her admittance and said to put her into a dorm room, as well as provide all of the supplies she would need. They'd given her a prepaid card to cover food until weekly direct deposits could be set up in her account, which should be done by tomorrow. It wouldn’t be much money, but enough to keep her in coffee and the occasional shopping trip.
She was still in shock at how quickly everything happened, when something like that usually took weeks, instead of hours to set up. Still, it was just one more reason that she needed to be here, and these guys didn't get to tell her otherwise.
"Are one of you the registrar?" she asked bluntly.
They all stared at her in silence, as though the ridiculous question was something they needed to think about.
"I thought not. So why don't you move along and mind your own business? I can handle this myself."
"You're aware that the Academy of Dark Arts isn't just some school where you learn to do card tricks and make rabbits pop out of hats, right? We do real magic, to be used in real combat situations. You’re way too old to have just manifested a talent, so either you’ve been hiding one or you’re faking it now to be admitted. Magic is something that it takes a lifetime of practice to control, and I’m not betting on you being able to handle that."
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Just that you reek of alcohol and look like you’ve only slept two hours in the last three days. You’re a party girl, and party girls aren’t known for their self-control.”
Wow, judgmental much? “Look, buddy, I don’t know what self-respecting club chick decided to shoot you and your microdick down, but I applaud her. However, it wasn’t me, so I suggest you back off.”
Shock registered on his face as he stared down at her, then burst into laughter. “I promise, it’s not a microdick, if you want to find out.”
His friend with the man-bun elbowed him while the third guy just leaned against the wall with a grin, as though watching her verbally kick their asses was a new spectator sport.
“I’m sixteen. You guys usually solicit sex from minors, or is it just my lucky day?” The words stopped them in their tracks, just like always.
“Wow, then you’re in even worse shape than I thought,” he shot back without missing a beat. “You look twenty, and you smell thirty-five.”
Man-Bun gloated. “A sixteen-year-old alcoholic, huh? I hope I get you in my class, just so I can make you straighten that shit out, Bunny.”
Mal lifted an eyebrow at the nickname, but didn’t give him the satisfaction of asking about it. You’ll be surprised when I bring a herd of real bunnies in here to chew up your skater shoes and shit in your shampoo.
“Oh, wait, I won’t get the pleasure of teaching you in my class, because you’ll be tossed into the general program, where you deserve to be, instead of our program, where we practice real magic.”
General program? And he’s a teacher? Whatever class I’m in, I hope it’s not his. She just shrugged, not wanting to ask about the odd statement or admit that she had been practicing her magic for the last six years, and it was the only way she wasn't caught well before now. It took a certain level of skill to repress and control her talent, trying to make sure that she wasn't constantly followed by flocks of birds and butterfli
es, or some other sickeningly princess-like bullshit. The last thing she wanted was to stand out, especially before she knew her way around the campus or who these idiots were.
"Well, we'll see what happens then, won't we?" Mal said and looked down at her phone. She leaned against the wall and opened her eBook app, only to have the device plucked from her fingers.
"Seriously. A party girl like you doesn't belong in a place like this. Go home. You can't even tell us your powers, which means they're useless," Man-Bun said earnestly. Mal narrowed her eyes, put off for a minute by the sincerity in his voice. Reality set back in and she snatched her phone away from him, tucking it into her shirt. His eyes followed it.
"What's your deal? Why are you guys being such dicks to me? You don't even know me."
"We've known enough girls like you. You don’t look sixteen, which means you’re lying to us already. You're not special, just like none of them were either. You probably got fired from your last job, had to be reassigned and decided it'd be cool to go to the magic academy instead. You've never been before, so why not, right? You might meet a fun guy who can charm his way into fancy restaurants and you get to go out for free. Or hook up with a hot soldier and have a cool story to tell your friends." He rolled his eyes. "That's not how it works, babe, and this school is a lot more than it seems. Did you know that all of the Defense Department comes from this academy? All of the soldiers, patrol squads, combat medics, every person who has ever seen any kind of fighting, all came from here?"