Page 53 of The Devil and His Sparrow

“So that’s why you’re pushing yourself so hard. It’s not even for your own sense of pride in succeeding. It’s for her.”

She looked away sheepishly. “Yes. She never spends time with me. She’s always so busy, you know? We only really see each other when we go visit Gemma. So I want these midterms to go perfectly so that I can have this with her.”

“Do you not think it’s weird that you have to work so hard just to get time with your own mom?”

Her big brown eyes locked on mine then, and she seemed startled by my question, like she’d never thought about it. A daughter shouldn’t have to go the extra mile to see her parent. Even I knew that. The fact that Iyla seemed surprised by the idea just went to show how far her mom’s claws dug into her.

“Well, when you say it like that …” Her shoulders slumped, and her mouth flattened. Seeing that troubled flash of hurt cross her features made something twist in my chest. Things had been hot and freeing, but now, the air was tinged with melancholy.

Eager to bring some of that lightness back into the room, I grabbed her arms and pulled. Her naked body fell into me, and I rolled so that she was sprawled beneath me. My hands pinned hers on either side of her head—fingers lined up with fingers and palms pressed into palms. Her legs leaned into my sides as I settled between them, and my cock hardened when it brushed her sweet heat. The heaviness faded from her gaze as a sensual calm overtook them.

“Stop thinking about your mom. Do well because you want to,” I said, letting my fingers finally intertwine with hers so I could squeeze. “If you do that, you’ll do great for two reasons.”

“Oh?” she probed. “What reasons would that be?”

“One, you had the world’s greatest study partner. You’re welcome for that. And two, you’re insanely smart. You know this stuff. Stop doubting yourself just because your mom does.”

Iyla’s eyes softened as they searched mine. Finally, she asked, “Are we friends?”

My brows rose in surprise. “Friends?”

She nodded.

The word had always been one of indifference for me. I didn’t consider anyone a friend because of just that—I didn’t consider anyone. I was selfish. I had no room in my self-centered soul to care about others. I didn’t even know what it meant to be someone’s friend.

I pursed my lips and asked, “What does it mean to be friends?”

She seemed taken aback by my question. “You don’t know what being friends means?”

The amount of shock in her voice made me feel a bit self-conscious, like how she surely felt when I’d probed her about her mom. They were easy concepts to us when we asked them but complete mind-fucks for the other person.

“Friends,” she said slowly, “are there for each other. You pick each other up when you’re down. Help each other when the other needs it. You can have fun and talk and just be yourself with them.”

It sounded simple, but I knew it was a complex relationship. Still, when I thought about all the things she described, I realized that did fit us. We were definitely there for each other, even if it was because of the bond. But hadn’t we offered each other support and fun outside of what our deal required?

“Yeah,” I finally answered. “We’re friends.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, everything about her brightened. A twinkle flooded her eyes, his lips formed the most stunning smile I’d ever seen, and her fingers squeezed mine. I had to look ridiculous, because all I could do was stare at her, frozen and heart beating like a drum. Something clenched in my chest, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say it was emotion—real emotion—brought on by Iyla and the beauty of her happiness.

But that was crazy.

I must’ve been crazy.

Because emotions like what bubbled up in my chest when I stared down into her smiling face wasn’t possible for someone like me.

Chapter 17

Iyla

I passed all of my midterms.

Mom: Grade?

A’s on everything.

Mom: Good. I’ll pick you up for dinner at 6 on Friday.

I’D JUST GOTTEN MY GRADES for the midterms, and I was over the moon to learn that I’d aced all of them. It wasn’t really the score I cared about, but the reward I got for getting that score. A night with my mom. I was excited for this chance to spend time with her.

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