Page 49 of Gift from the Tree

“Anytime, sweetness.”

When we approach my door, he gives me a smile, not one that was quite as big as normal but better than his frown by far before telling me he’d be back in fifteen minutes to walk me down to dinner.

Shutting the door behind me, I lay my head against the wood and close my eyes. It’ll get better, I tell myself repeatedly. It has to. Living my life constantly worrying about if something’s going to set off a panic attack is not how I want to live.

Ugh, what I wouldn’t give to just get in a warm bath and soak my troubles away, but instead, I look myself over in the mirror and fix my hair up a little bit. Moving to the closet, I change out of my sundress into a floor-length, halter top maxi dress. I know it’s just the guys, but I want to feel more put together. Maybe if I feel prettier on the outside, it’ll help with the ugly thoughts I’m having about myself on the inside.

“You ready in there?” Draken hollers through the door while knocking at the same time.

Giggling, I swing the door open, ready to give him a teasing remark, but my words dry up in my throat. He’s leaning against the doorframe, positioned like he had to wait ages for me, ankles crossed, with his hands in his pockets. The baby blue fitted button-up he wears looks so good with his bronze skin and makes his hungry eyes pop as he drinks in the sight of me. A bead of water drips down his neck and I can’t stop myself from thinking about licking it.

Damn, he looks so good.

“You look pretty fucking perfect too, sweetness.” Draken hums, running his thumb over his bottom lip.

Fuck me, I said that out loud.

“You ready to go?” I ask, clearing my throat.

Chuckling darkly, he puts his hand on my lower back, steering me down the hall. My attention zeroes in on his hand as a tingling spreads through my legs. My thin scrap of underwear grows wet, and I feel like I’m going to fall on my face.

Fuck, this is what it’s like to be turned on.

Walking through the doors of the dining room, I expect it to be empty like last time, but of course not. Corentin and Tillman are standing there waiting on us, staring at my flustered face.

Gone is the tie and jacket Corentin wears to perfection, leaving him looking a little rough around the edges. The top two buttons are popped open on his dress shirt and his sleeves are rolled up, showing off the veins snaking through his forearms, and my eyes consume his disheveled state.

Tillman’s black-on-black attire adds an air of danger to him, sharply contrasting with his calm demeanor. The black shirt, like a second skin, seems to enhance his muscles rather than conceal them, and my mind tries to map out every chiseled line.

Fucking hell, I’m already confusingly flustered enough. Why did these assholes have to look like gods?

Tillman’s head turns toward me and meets my gaze with a smirk playing on his lip like he knows something I don’t. That playful expression is just adding to the color swamping my face.

Thankfully, as we all take our seats, the staff begins bringing dishes out within seconds. The sound of my stomach growling and the aroma of the food are enough to calm my newly awakened libido.

It smells so good, and I can’t wait to see what it is tonight. My mood sours for a split second when I think about that delicious steak I abandoned the last time I was here. I won’t be dealing with that tonight, though. I refuse to leave any good food behind.

When they lift the lids, a Greek-style salad with a breadstick is paired with a large bowl of chicken and shrimp pasta. Fuck, I’m going to be the size of this mansion if I get fed like this every night.

I’m too busy staring at the plates in front of me to realize everyone is looking at me, waiting.

What are they waiting for?

Draken bumps me with his elbow, doing the same motion as last time when he showed me how to use my silverware. I laugh as I pick up my fork and begin twirling it into the pasta. I hope they don’t expect me to use proper etiquette. I have no intention of doing that.

The first bite almost has me falling over in my chair. It’s to die for. My approval for the dish is a verbal one, and everyone at the table reacts, but only Draken calls me out with a low, heated, “Fuck, that sound.”

“So is everyone ready for tomorrow?” I ask, acting as if nothing just happened, completely ignoring their shifting and fidgeting.

“Tomorrow isn’t any of our first days. Are you ready for tomorrow?” Corentin asks, not exactly in a nice way, but not directly being a dick either.

“I’m nervous, really nervous, but excited too. I’m ready to learn,” I tell him honestly.

“Ready to learn all our secrets, are you, little spy?” the biggest asshole of the bunch says as he steps out of the shadows. Like he was waiting for the perfect moment to arrive.

“Don’t fucking start, Caspian,” Draken warns before I can even say anything.

“Don’t get so attached, brother. When she fucks us all over, you’ll be included in that, and we’ll be left with the broken pieces,” Caspian comments lightly, wearing a shit-eating grin that makes my blood boil.

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