Page 193 of Plaything

After a week of replaying my speech in my head, I was ready. I didn’t plan on telling my professors where I was going, which I felt guilty about. I knew they’d try to stop me or ask questions. Aiden demanded that I never see my father again, and I couldn’t oblige.

If things went wrong and I wasn’t able to change Charles’ mind, I’d tell them the whole truth when I returned home. Keeping this from them was killing me. I wasn’t a liar, but this tremendous secret was eating away at me the longer I kept it.

While it would be easier to pack up and leave without telling them the ugly secrets I’d kept—I couldn’t do that to them. They deserved much more than me pretending my feelings for them weren’t real. Even if I wanted to, that was an act I’d never be able to pull off. Aiden would see right through me.

I loved them, and they knew it.

I despised the sappy word, but there was no other way around it. At the end of the day, love was just a word people used to describe this feeling. I finally admitted it to myself when I realized we’d been saying it all along, just not with words.

Every time Niko cooked for me or made sure I was taking care of myself, he said it.

Whenever Wyatt told me how proud he was of me, he said it.

Dominic said it all the time by keeping me safe—even from my own messed up head.

Aiden said it whenever we locked eyes across the room and conversed silently. I could read him just as clearly as he saw through me.

The signs had been in front of me since the beginning—practically lit up in neon and screaming at me to wake up. This kind of love wasn’t stereotypical, and I knew it was likely something none of us would admit aloud. I was happy with that. I didn’t need them to say the words. I could feel it.

All I knew was that I was a girl in love with four unbelievable men. I’d be damned if I gave that up because an old dying man disapproved.

It was Friday, and I just returned home after school. On top of my stress about Charles and my professors, it was finals week. Yesterday, I took my final for Niko’s class, and today, I completed my final project for thermodynamics.

As soon as I walked through the door, Niko’s arms wrapped around me and spun me around, making me giggle. “Hello to you too!”

“You only missed two questions on your final,” he beamed.

I widened my eyes. Truthfully, my attention in Niko’s class had been lacking. It was impossible to pay attention in class when I kept picturing the Professor naked with his head between my thighs. “Really!” I joined in on his excitement. “I thought I’d get an eighty, at best,” I admitted, running my hand through my hair as relief filled me.

He shook his head. “I told you you’d pass with flying colors, Cariño. Give yourself some credit.” He lifted me by my thighs and began walking through the house while kissing my neck. “How should we celebrate?” He asked in a mischievous tone.

Wrapping my legs around his waist, a smirk played on my lips. “I have a volleyball meet later, but I’m all yours until then,” I flirted. His hot mouth against my neck sent shivers down my spine.

He sat me on the kitchen counter and stood between my legs. He ran his hands up my thighs while watching me. “Two days in a row?” He questioned.

In hindsight, I could’ve thought of a better excuse than volleyball. They knew I typically only had a sports-related activity two or three times a week. Still, I nodded.

He gave the side of my ass a tap. “With all that training you do, you’ll probably be able to outrun me soon,” he joked, leaning in for a kiss.

“I can outrun you,” I remarked before his lips touched mine.

Trapping me between his arms, he leaned against the counter. “Think so?” He said between kisses.

“I know so,” I parted my lips for him, feeling heat rush between my legs.

The tip of his tongue barely touched mine before he pulled away. He looked unconvinced, watching me with raised eyebrows and a smirk. “You don’t actually think you can beat me in a race, Cariño, do you?” He questioned, a challenge in his tone.

Oh, he thought I was joking? “Easily,” I said confidently.

“Really,” he chuckled in disbelief. “Put your sneakers on,” he ordered.

“Why does Niko look insane?” Aiden questioned when he entered the kitchen, with an empty mug in hand, going for the coffee machine.

“He seems to think he can beat me in a race,” I answered. “He can’t.”

Aiden seemed intrigued. “You can’t beat Niko in a race, Babydoll. He has the competitive edge of a teenage boy playing dodgeball.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Niko dismissed, still eyeing me. “You know what, since you’re so sure of yourself, let’s have a little race between the five of us—I’d beat all of you,” he assured.

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