Ethan flipped the folder closed in his lap. “It’s a start, but I don’t understand what everyone sees in the bloke.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Do you really want to know?”
“Nope,” he shoved the folder back in the drawer, “but we finally have a lead.”
Finally.
Months of pranks, and it had been Maddie all along.
“That’s what it feels like,” I whispered as Ethan and I walked back to my wing at nearly four in the morning.
“What’s that?” Ethan paused in the middle of the hall.
“That’s what the note said after she shoved me in the closet, ‘That’s what it feels like,’ What did she mean? Like being alone?”
Ethan raised a brow and shook his head. “I don’t know, Jett, but it’s late. You need to rest. You should go back to Ollie.”
“But you were looking forward to hanging out,” I pointed out. This entire time Ethan had rushed me to finish, and now we were standing in the middle of the hallway, and he decided it was too late?
“Who are we kidding? You don’t belong with me or anyone else for that matter. You should be with Masters. Go back to him. It’s fine. Maybe I got what I needed from this time we did get to spend together.”
“You sure?” I asked, begging to hear the three-letter word. As much as I loved being around Ethan, all I wanted to do was sink beside Ollie, close my eyes, and allow sleep to take me.
“Yeah,” he grabbed my hand, “I’ll see you in a little while.” He squeezed my hand and forced a smile.
Ethan and I said our goodbye’s before I entered Ollie’s room. It was dark, and he hadn’t moved, still in the same place I’d left him. His chaotic brown hair stuck up as he laid on his side. Peeling off my hoodie, boots, and jeans, I admired his slightly parted lips as he slept lost in a dream, most likely thinking about us under the stars or strolling down the boardwalk. My lips broke out into a smile, and I sank in the bed beside him.
He nuzzled his head into my neck and dragged in a breath, moaning on exhale. “I missed you,” his throaty words and pillow-lips buzzed across my ear.
Ollie pinned me against his warm skin, and in no time, we drifted together.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Does it make me selfish that
I make you smile for my
own damn benefit?”
—Oliver Masters
ollie.
WHEN MIA’S BROWN EYES captured mine, time stood still, yet her smile pushed the clock to race against my unpredictable heart. The distance between us calculated in steps and the number of breaths I should have taken, but couldn’t. Thirty feet tall and worthy of her, my days had been spent focusing on fucking standing because at any given moment, my knees could cave and slam into the earth.
This. The hold Mia had. Every moment measured in the way she controlled time, determined distance, and had full possession of me. And the beauty of it all? She had no fucking clue. Or maybe she had, the reason she put me out of my misery with her lips.
I’m a fucking goner for life.
“What do you think?” Mia held up a literary rose, rolling the stem between her two fingers against her cheek with a proud smile. The twinkle in her eyes burned so brightly it was almost too painful to look directly in her light.
I swallowed and cleared my throat. “Perfect.”
Mia bounced out of the chair in the mess hall beside Zeke, strolled casually around the table, and curled into my lap. My fingers instantly found their way to the bare and warm skin beneath her shirt at her waist. “Two more months,” she whispered.
Two more months.
My hand moved up her thigh. I dropped my forehead to her shoulder and inhaled the fucking moment to keep her flowing in me far after we would separate.
Zeke pounded against the table. I tilted my head to see him without removing my head from her. He signed, Mia and Ollie, forever.
“Evermore,” I confirmed. Looking up, I caught her breathtaking smile and squeezed her thigh before returning my gaze to the old soul, appreciating the connection before him. The child inside him beamed back. He reminded me of myself at that age of fifteen, a helpless romantic, thriving on hope and belief. The Office, Friends, and even Romeo and Juliet, Zeke measured his days in the love that surrounded him. The reason for his progressions and will to wake up each morning.
“I have to go to my appointment,” Mia sighed, and her eyes dragged from the clock to me.
A full hour until I’d be back to get her. I wished following her around like a bodyguard wasn’t necessary, but it was. At least until we found the prankster, and even after that, I’d still probably be following her around.
My hour was spent making a phone call to Travis, swiping up the new pack of gum waiting for me by the phone, and grabbing a book from the library. Travis said they wanted more from me—more of me. I had nothing to give at the moment. The stress piled on top of each other. Between keeping Mia safe, keeping the outside world and the publisher happy, and battling my inner demons, breaking at any moment became my new reality. I was a saint who’d been stripped of his wings—my mortality in constant war against my soul. The rumble roared within, and each second away from her was scary as hell. She was my home.
Forty minutes.
I popped a new stick into my mouth to appease my sore jaw.
Deciding to go back to the dorm was the best option. Being around a crowd drained me of my sanity. Especially this crowd. Their emotions, their tensions, their anxieties, I felt it all. My body soaked it up, and if I didn’t have Mia to secure me, to hold me down, their fury slowly ate away the peace.
Fuck, it was the only way to describe it.
The only reason I hadn’t told her the details of my past was because she had far too much on her plate. I should have told her. She was the only one I could talk to. She was the only one who understood me and knew how to calm my nerves. But again, her plate was full with a side of obstacles.
Mia knew about Oscar and my mum. She knew the kind of life I lived, and I was confident when I disclosed the details of the things Oscar made me do, Mia would forgive me.
I’d stained my skin with the brotherhood tattoo. No matter how hard I tried to cover it up or hide it, it was always there. If I could rip off my arm and throw it to the wolves, I would. The brotherhood tattoo covered by scissors was a constant fucking reminder; Oscar would always be a part of me. No matter how long or often Mia swam inside, flowing through my veins, Oscar and I shared the same tainted blood.
I’d only drifted for what felt like half a second, and when I opened my eyes, Bria stood beside my bed staring down at me. Was I still dreaming?
Sitting up, I pinched the bridge of my nose and slowly blinked my eyes back to life.
She stood there, raven black hair, and porcelain skin.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice hoarse and groggy. I pumped my fist against my chest and cleared my throat. “Bria,” I tried again and shook my head awake, “You can’t be here.” Bria only smiled down at me and stood there in a top revealing her pale midriff and black thin, stretchy pants. She had no shoes on, and her eyes glazed over. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t feel so good,” she finally said, and plopped down on the bed beside me. “Jude broke up with me. He picked Tyler over me … Where’s Mia? I came to talk to Mia,” she fell back against the bed where Mia usually rested her head.