“You do?” Milo glances at me from the side, his head tilted.
I nod eagerly. “Always, Milo. I hate it when we’re at school, and you guys barely talk to me. I feel so much lonelier than I ever did before, and back then I really was lonely,” I confess. He’s showing me a piece of himself and I feel like I should do the same in return.
Milo places his other hand over our already joined ones. “I don’t like it either. I think we should just claim you.”
My brows furrow. I’ve never heard any of them use the word ‘claim’ before regarding me. What does he mean?
“I mean, I know we haven’t found your mom yet, but I bet Ares is close. He’s been working on it every day. I don’t think if the others knew we found you that it would make a difference at this point.”
Wasn’t I thinking the same thing about Mia a little while ago? Maybe we should just make the announcement—or whatever they call it—to the community that our Infinity is whole. Anybody really interested in us would already know anyway. I’m never far away from the guys, they’ve even taken to coming into work with me. And when I say they barely talk to me at school, it’s a bit of an exaggeration. They do talk to me at school, we eat lunch together daily, but we can’t be like we are at home and, most importantly, Ares isn’t at school with us. I think that’s part of the reason none of the guys fight him about our sleeping arrangements. When I finally get to see him in the evening after a long day of school and both of us working, he always looks a little run down. I feel it, too, but not nearly as bad as he does because I’m with one of the others several times throughout the day.
“Maybe we could talk to the others. I think I’m as ready as I can be at this point. I know there’s still so much I need to learn, but maybe if we came out,” the words feel weird, but I can’t think of anything else that fits, “it might actually help find my mom. Maybe someone knows her or knew her.”
“We’ll talk to them tonight,” Milo confirms his hands still holding mine as he leans down and give me a quick peck at the corner of my mouth. I don’t even have time to return his affection before he turns and leaves the bathroom.
Should it feel strange that I was just kissing Ares, and Milo kissed me less than ten minutes later? My head is telling me it’s not okay, that people would call me names, but the light feeling I have in my stomach and the grin on my lips says something else altogether. And what about the guys? Do they know that Ares has already kissed me? Would they be mad?
As my thoughts spiral, Ollie pokes his head in the door. “Almost ready?” His blond hair is pulled back in a low ponytail near the back of his neck, but a few shorter pieces have already fallen out, framing his perfect jaw line. I know he’ll end up taking the elastic out and redoing it several times throughout the day, maybe even abandoning the hair tie to let it hang down to his shoulders. His light green eyes run up my legs slowly. Ollie seems to have the same fascination with my legs that Ares has with my neck. I’ve noticed that every time I wear my sleep shorts, his eyes rarely meet mine.
“Yes. Just finishing up in here. I have to throw my clothes on.”
A slow grin lights up Ollie face. “Want me to grab you something?” I’m shaking my head no before he even finishes. “What? There was nothing wrong with what I chose,” he defends in mock outrage.
“Ollie,” I warn, my tone full of disapproval. “If I had worn that to school, I would have been sent home on a dress code violation.”
A low chuckle sounds. “We wouldn’t have even made it to school, Ares would have killed us both.” He leaves me then, returning to the bedroom. I follow behind him, tempted to hop on his back just because it seems fun.
Curbing the desire, I head over to the closet disguised as a wall and slide the partition back. Dante is lounging on the second bed. His arms are folded behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling. His mind wanders so easily. It’s easy to see why he’s such a magnificent artist. I think he spends half his time daydreaming. When I first met him, I labeled him the bad boy, but in truth, he’s so much deeper than that.
I bite my lip and send thanks to whoever is responsible for my good fortune. Maybe it has something to do with my connection to the four of them, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more handsome group than my guys. Dante’s dark hair, though a few shades lighter than his brother’s, is pushed back from his face. The beginning of dark stubble is visible on his chin and jaw. Some days he goes without shaving, today is one of those days. Though it only reaffirms his bad boy persona, I love the way it looks.
He tilts his chin down and looks at me. It’s only then I realize I’ve been caught staring instead of getting dressed like I should be. “Okay?” he questions in that deep voice that always manages to work its way right into my blood stream.
“Just thinking,” I reply, heading into the closet. I hear him shift on the bed, his footsteps nearing behind me.
“About?” Dante rarely wastes words. I find myself wishing he would go on and on just so I could hear him speak.
I’ve gotten better about always blushing, but I still feel a flush rise to my cheeks. “What I’m going to wear to school today.”
I feel him over my shoulder as he leans in close to whisper, “Liar.” His words hold no anger nor humor. “If you look at me like that when you’re thinking about clothes, I shouldn’t have anything to do with putting them on.” I spin around with my mouth open in surprise. Dante doesn’t even blink. He meets my stare and challenges me, raising a brow.
I snap my lips closed. I don’t even know how to respond to that. I wasn’t really going as far as thinking of him naked, but now that he’s put the thought in my head, I can’t get it out. Dante reaches out, his finger and thumb snatching a chunk of hair, letting it run through his fingers. “You should get dressed, unless you need help?”
I narrow my eyes, now he’s just trying to goad me. I turn away, my hair pulling from his fingers as I do. I jerk down the first pair of new jeans my hands land on. I’ve thanked them for all the clothes several times, and at first I was reluctant to take them, but it’s been so nice to have more than two or three jeans to wear all week, and, man, does it save me from having to do laundry so often. Thankfully, the clothing they bought is pretty similar to what I’ve always worn. They are a lot nicer and fit so much better, but they’re not trying to make me play dress up—well Ollie does, but that’s not the point. Peering over my shoulder to watch his reaction, I snag the black t-shirt hanging farther down the line, it’s Dante’s. He stands back, his arms crossing over his chest, but his face is a mask of indifference. Pushing past him, I take my finds into the bathroom and, using my butt, I push the door closed.
Dante’s shirt is too big, but I’ve already committed, so I’m going to make it work. I try tucking it in, but it’s so long that it makes my hips and stomach look lumpy—not attractive. I settle with tying a big knot in the back. It pulls the waist tighter than I’m used to, but the top is still extra big, so I don’t feel like it’s too much. Turning, I check out my handywork in the back and have second thoughts. You can see a small triangle of my lower back, but I’m afraid to retie the knot, it was hard enough the first time.