“Charlie?” She steals a kiss off my lips as she says it.
“You guessed it. I was thinking about taking him out for ribs later tonight. If you want I can pick you up a doggie bag.”
“Very funny.” She swats me. Charlie is my yellow lab, and if I dared give him a rib, my mother would pluck out every one of mine.
“Here it is. Three sixteen.” Skyla jumps at the sight of my dorm.
I hold up the key and unlock the door.
“Shouldn’t we knock? What if your roommate is in there?’ Skyla lands her cool fingers over mine, preventing me from turning the knob. “What if he’s doing something private?”
“Like playing Grand Theft Auto?”
“No—like masturbating.” She runs her fingers softly over my crotch, and I hold my breath a second. Skyla has been giving me the green light all morning, and I’m not about to deny her a damn thing, that is, after I make an honest woman out of her. Skyla’s mother made it clear as her crystal cut eyes that putting a ring on her finger was the only way to go, and, personally, I don’t want to screw anything up between Skyla and me. I want everything about the two of us to be perfect. She deserves it.
“Masturbating, huh?” I pry the door open and scan the place, empty as Dudley’s head—nothing but two beds pushed together in the center. Looks like whoever he is, he’s decided to take advantage of the amenities while I’ve been gone. I’ll need to burn the sheets. I close the door behind us, never taking my eyes off hers. “What do you know about that?” I leave out the M word while tracing a line down her lips to her jaw. Skyla is a testament to perfection.
“I know plenty.” She cinches her arms around my neck and pulls me in. “All I have to do is think about you at night, and my hand seems to find its way to forbidden places.” She slips her fingers to the lip of her jeans and gives a crooked smile.
“You’re a dirty girl, Skyla Messenger.” My lips crash over hers, and she glides her tongue in and out of my mouth playfully. Skyla jumps up on my hips and locks her thighs around my waist. My neck gives a mean tweak in the process, but I try to ignore the flash of pain shooting down my back.
“Dirty, huh?” She pulls her lips across my cheek up to my ear. “What would you say if I told you I was looking for a dirty boy? You wouldn’t happen to know where I could find one, would you?” She takes a bite out of my ear, and a surprise of pain ricochets right down to my feet. Damn, that feels good. I graze over her lips ever so gently. I’m all in for some teeth action as long as she wants to give it—hell, any action.
“I can be pretty bad,” I whisper. My hands slip inside her shirt as if to prove my point.
The door rattles, and I move us out of the way as a couple stumbles in with their hands all over each other. I can see now the need for the conjoined beds. This dude can’t make it five feet keeping it in his pants.
“Laken?” Skyla slides down my hips. “Cooper?”
Before I know it, Skyla joins in on their little hug fest, and I’m the odd man out. I don’t know if Coop remembers me too well. He crashed Demetri’s Halloween party last year and then prom for a few minutes. I don’t really know the guy other than he fought in the faction war for Celestra.
Laken gasps at the sight of me. Her shoulders pull back as she stiffens.
“It’s him,” she whispers, and the room stills.
“Oh, that’s just Gage.” Skyla waves me off. “I swear he’s harmless.” She pulls Laken over to the bed, and Coop nods for me to sit on the chair at the abandoned desk, presumably mine.
Skyla speeds through introductions, and we each nod a passive hello.
“Sorry.” Laken lowers her lashes as if she can’t bring herself to look in my direction. “I haven’t seen Wes in years and…” Her words hang in the air unfinished.
“You’re a dead ringer.” Coop looks me up and down. “I’ve seen you on the field. I thought about playing. Maybe next year.”
“Walk on. We’ve got a ton of fresh injuries. We can use the new blood. First game is in a week.” My neck pinches just thinking about it.
“I just might do that. You like the coach?”
“He’s hard but fair.” I drill into him with an interrogative stare. “So, Laken is a Count, right? Where do you two stand?”
“I fought the war for Celestra.” Coop is quick with the comeback.
“And I’ve denounced my standing with the Countenance.” Laken slips behind Skyla a bit until she’s just out of my view or, more to the point, I am hers. “We pretty much called the Counts out on their botch up with the Spectators, and now we’re prime targets for retaliation.”
“It will happen.” Coop nods into her with the ominous news. “But we’re ready.”
“What are you talking about?” Skyla’s chest bounces the way it does when she’s getting worked up. “Remind me again what Spectators are, and why the hell the Counts are after you?”
“The Spectators were resurrected Counts who accidentally reverted to a state of partial vigor and froze that way—in other words, zombies. They could no longer participate in the world, so they were forced to sit it out on the sidelines, thus—the Spectators. In the beginning, the experiment was carried out on unwilling Celestra, so there were a number of Celestra Spectators, too.” Laken shakes her head. “Some hag they hold hostage in the Transfer named—”
“Ezrina,” Skyla cuts her off. “She’s not in the Transfer anymore. She’s on Paragon in Chloe Bishop’s body. Trust me it’s a long story for another day, but Ezrina’s not bad, I promise.”
“Well”—Laken lies back on her elbows—“regardless, she managed to reverse the partial rigor state, and they’re free now. My father—I use the term loosely—is a big wig with the Counts. He’s in charge of the entire Eastern seaboard. Jones Anderson, you ever hear of him?”
Skyla and I shake our heads.
“He works for Althorpe.” She tosses a quick glance out the window. “It’s some scam the Counts use to launder money.”
“Tad works for Althorpe.” Skyla shoots me a brief look. “That’s my stepfather. He’s a Count, but, believe me, he’s as clueless as they come.”
“Oh, the Counts like them clueless,” Laken asserts. “The more clueless the better. Anyway, Coop tells me you’re the overseer of the factions now. Congratulations.” She says it with caution. “I suppose you know about Wes.”
“I haven’t seen Wes in months.” Skyla loses her gaze in the matted brown carpet, and I can tell her mind is drifting back to the Celestra tunnels, back to Logan. I know a part of her wishes she could go, just to take the edge off and see him, but I’d never wish that hell on her. Dudley has devised a way to replenish her blood supply once Wes drains her. It requires an injection of cyanide which takes her to the brink of death each time, and it kills me to see her go through that agony.
“Wes followed me out here.” Laken slips into Cooper’s lap. “I haven’t seen him in years, but I can feel him. I always know when he’s near. He was with me back in Connecticut, and now he’s here somewhere, doing God knows what.” She looks lovingly at Coop and runs her finger over the ridge of his brow. “His father’s bidding,” she whispers that last part barely audible.
“His father’s bidding?” I nod over to Coop, but Laken doesn’t turn to look at me.
“Demetri Edinger. You know him?”
“Oh, God.” Skyla’s eyes widen as she gazes past the two of them.
“We know Demetri,” I say.
And now we know his son.
After classes and football practice wraps up, Skyla and I catch the ferry back to Paragon. Her mother—the one in the sky—made it clear she wanted me to tone down the teleportation. I believe she said to shelve it for emergency use only. She’s the last person in the universe I plan on irritating, so it’s the ferry for Skyla and me. Besides, I love the ordinary details of life. I especially love exploring them with this gorgeous girl by my side. I run my fingers through her hair as we lean against the deck. The fog rolls close to the w
ater, giving the illusion we’re floating on clouds. The sky is trimmed with dark maroon stripes, knifing across the expanse like scars. By the time we hit Paragon, it’s so late we decide to pick up dinner at a drive-thru and head toward the beach.
“I just texted Mia and let her know I couldn’t make our coffee date.” Skyla tosses her phone back in her purse. “I’ll try to catch her before she goes to bed. You know she said the strangest thing this morning. She mentioned something about Chloe being her new cheer coach.”
“Really?” I tighten my grip over the wheel. I wish I could say I was surprised that Chloe is wiggling her way back to the island, but, in truth, I am a little perplexed at how soon she’s managed to do it. “Cheer coach, huh?” I shake my head. “Tell your sisters to watch out.” A thought comes to me, and I let out a groan. “Crap. I forgot all about Giselle.” My own sister happens to be on the West Paragon cheer squad which sheds a little more light on why Chloe might be spending time there. Chloe’s got one sickening obsession with me—always has. “I just thought of something.” I take the turn off toward Rockaway Beach. The lot is empty, so I drive right up on the sand and watch as the turquoise waves explode over the ebony shoreline.
“That it’s not a good idea to talk about Chloe?” Skyla looks up from under her lashes before taking a sip of her soda.
“That and the fact she’s in the Transfer with Demetri’s son.” I kill the engine, and a morbid silence fills the truck as we stare at one another. Dudley mentioned a few months back that Demetri’s son was in the Transfer, and now we know just who the bastard is.
“Oh my, God.” Skyla unbuckles herself as we head out. “Wes looks exactly like you. So do you think she’s finally satisfied?”
“Hopefully. It’s doubtful, though, and believe me my ego’s not involved here. I want nothing more than for that to be true.” Still most things that are too good to be true are anything but, sort of like my life with Skyla. My time with her will be here and gone before I know it, and that’s exactly why I plan on making the best of it. Hell, I’d ask her to marry me tonight if I had a ring with me.
Skyla clasps her hand over mine as we walk down to the shore. There’s a hint of a sunset behind the charred clouds as a burst of orange highlights the horizon.
“Beautiful.” She pulls me in, and we take a seat right there on the cool sand as the salty air licks our lips.
“That you are.” I peck kisses down her cheek until my mouth melts over hers. Our teeth bump, her tongue swipes over mine, and my stomach drops as if we’re on some insane roller coaster together. Skyla has that effect on me every single time.
“You know what would be a great way to commemorate our first day of college?” she whispers into my lips between kisses.
I let out a moan in lieu of words because I think I know what she’s about to say, what I want her to say.
Her lips travel to my ear. “How about first day of college—first day with each other?”
“Sounds like heaven.” How the hell do I say no to that? “And it sounds like a lot of firsts.” I know for a fact I want to do this right. I don’t want to be the one who couldn’t wait. But, God knows, time isn’t exactly on my side—not to mention the fact Skyla is so damn beautiful it hurts sometimes to look at her.
“You complaining?” She catches my lower lip with her teeth and carefully pulls it out.
The sky glows a baritone blue as dark, charcoal highways drive through it.
“There’s not a single complaint I have with you in my life.” There are no truer words. I brush the hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear. The breeze picks up. There’s a marked chill in the air as the sand begins to pepper us with its microscopic assault. “But I’m going to want you all night long. Trust me, Skyla, I plan on doing things to you that would get us arrested on a public beach.” I pick up her hand and bring it to my lips. “And most likely in private.” I want to devour Skyla and plan on doing just that. Swallowing her whole until there’s nothing left. My heart races just imagining my lips dragging across her body.
“Gage Oliver.” Skyla closes the gap between us until her stomach touches mine. Her eyes glitter with tears, and I wonder if she’s ready at all. “Do you know how much I love you?”
“Do you know how much I love you?”
“Our love is as strong as death,” she whispers.
“Strong as death,” I echo. And it’s my death that dangles between us like a noose.
She digs her fingers through my hair and pulls me in until our lips seal over one another again. Skyla and I don’t need words to convey our feelings anymore—we’ve moved onto body language. The electricity in the air when we’re together is enough to spark a thousand flames. But it’s right here, right at her lustful kisses, where Skyla seems to draw the line, and I’m not into pushing her. Skyla used to roam all over my body, her eager hands once plucked at the lip of my jeans, but since Logan—since last December—it hasn’t happened, and I’m okay with that. I’ve restricted my hands to her bare back, her hair, the curve of her jeans, but I don’t dare take it any further. The last thing I would ever want to do is push her if she’s not ready. Although tonight she’s hinting at the fact she is ready—hell, she’s all out verbalized it. According to Skyla she’s right there, and God knows I am, too. That’s why I think popping the question is the way to go. Then the ball will be in her court. If she says yes, I’ll let her decide when and where. I don’t know what I’ll do if she chooses a long engagement. At least that way I’ll know she was nowhere near ready. But, God, I hope she is. I’m dying to melt my mouth over her body, love her until the two of us can’t see straight anymore.
Skyla lets out a guttural moan. She bounces her tongue over my teeth before outlining my lips, licking a line up to my ear.
“You’re my everything, Gage Oliver. You’re my forever—and don’t you ever forget it.”
She picks up a stick and traces out a heart over the damp sand. Skyla + Gage she writes inside. I take the gnarled branch from her and write Forever just below that.
“It’s just like that first unofficial date we had”—she gives a shy smile—“the summer I first moved to Paragon.” She slips into my lap, and I scoop her in close.
I remember that day. We went for a drive getting to know one another. It was just after Logan devised a plan for Skyla and I to have a fake relationship so they could keep seeing one another without tipping off the Counts.
“But this is the real deal,” she whispers warm over my lips.
Skyla knew I needed to hear those words.
Skyla always knows what I need to hear.
I drop Skyla off and make my way home. The lights are all on downstairs, a pretty good sign my parents are still up.
I park the truck high on the driveway and head in.
Mom, Dad, and Giselle are all standing in the living room, drowning in tension.
“What’s going on?” I toss down my keys and drop my backpack to the floor.
“Giselle, here, thinks Ellis is husband material.” Mom chokes the words out as if she were about to vomit.
“Ellis?” I blink back. What the hell is Harrison up to now? “Did he ask you to marry him?” I head over to my sister. Her dark hair is pulled high into a ponytail. Her bright denim eyes are watery as if she’s about to have a good cry.
“No. I was simply telling our parents that it might be a good idea because that way I could get out of the clutches of the Kraggers. Arson still thinks I’m his long-dead daughter, remember?” She snaps at Mom, and I try to hold back a smile. As much as I hate that they’re fighting, it sort of warms my heart that they can. It wasn’t too long ago that Giselle was dead herself. I suppose that’s one thing I can thank Dudley and Candace for.
“As much as I hate to miss the party, I’m wiped out.” I head for the stairs. “Goodnight.”
“Gage?” Dad calls as I’m half way up. “Did you happen to notice anything different in the driveway?”
“Driveway?” I turn a
round to find him at the base of the stairs. “No, what’s up? Someone syphon gas from your car again?” It happened twice last month to Mom’s sedan, and it pissed the fuck out of me. Swear to God, if I catch the bastard, I’ll be wanted for a felony myself.
Dad glances back at Mom and Giselle who are still going at it. “His truck is missing.” He gives a brief nod. “I thought perhaps you knew something of it.”
I jump down the steps until we’re face to face. “You think someone took it?” My heart pounds against my chest like a jackhammer. Shit. I was so hopped up on that heated exchange with Skyla, I didn’t even notice Logan’s truck was gone.
“No. He and Liam were here while Emma and I were at work. He sent a text earlier this morning. He said they’d see me soon.”
My heart jumps to my throat.
Logan is back, and he’s brought Liam with him. A swell of relief fills me and yet an undercurrent of anxiety is right there with it.
“That’s great.” It comes from me weak. “I’ll text him and see what’s going on.”
“Everything okay?” Dad drills into me because, for one, he’s always had the uncanny ability to know exactly what I’m thinking.
“Everything is great. First game is in a week. You going to be there?”
“You bet.”
“You’d better.” I climb the stairs without looking back. “Goodnight.”
Logan is back. I glance over at his darkened bedroom before making my way to mine. I pull out my phone and shoot him a text.
Someone stole your truck, douchebag. Call me. I hit send and land the phone on the bed.
I head over to my bookshelf and pull out the Oxford Dictionary—a fat volume that my grandmother picked up for me at a garage sale one afternoon. The exact same afternoon she gifted me her two-carrot princess cut diamond ring.