Page 55 of Drama Queen

I give him another moment to ensure he’s once again absorbed in his studies. With his head in a book, brushing the back of his hand should be a piece of cake. When he’s lost in thought, he’s damn near oblivious.

Three, two, one.

Even with my mental countdown, I hesitate a moment before moving. With a slow exhale, I close my book before placing it in our return pile and grabbing the next book from the pile in front of him. We’re doing research for a presentation. We’ve both been working through all the books we can get our hands on to build facts, so it’s not out of character for me to move to a new one.

With the book clutched in my fingers, I pull back, watching myself move almost as if in slow motion. I just barely graze the top of his hand, where it rests on the edge of his book, but that’s all it takes.

It feels as though I’ve been hit by a live wire. A shock moves from the place where our skin touches up my arm and into my chest. For a moment, I’m frozen, unable to move as the sensation rages through me. But almost as quickly as it starts, it cuts off abruptly, as if it never happened.

Snatching my hand back, I cradle it to my chest as I try to control my breathing—the book I’d grabbed lies forgotten on the table.

Holy Fuck!

“E-Emory,” Silas says, reaching toward me. I hear the concern in his tone, but I can’t look up, not in my current state. “Are you oh-okay?” he asks, and I cringe away from him, afraid of what might happen if he touches me again right now. His hand drops away, and guilt turns my stomach. I want to explain, but I’m not sure what to say.

“Silas! Let’s go!” A deep voice cuts through the otherwise silent library, startling me as I try to gather my thoughts.

I don’t need to look up to know who it is. I’d know that voice almost anywhere. It’s usually me he’s yelling at like that. Aldric, I mean, Mr. Taylor has been unlucky enough to get stuck teaching me in two of my five classes, poor guy. What I don’t know is why he would have any reason to want Silas. He never does anything wrong, and he surely didn’t right now.

“Emory,” Silas tries to get my attention again, completely ignoring Aldric’s call for him.

“Silas, last chance, or you’re walking,” Aldric calls out again, seemingly unphased by the fact that he’s in a library and people are trying to study.

Asshole. If I did this in his class, he’d have my ass, and not in a fun way.

“Damn it,” Silas breathes under his breath, but I hear it. I’ve never heard him swear before. It catches me off guard, and I almost look up at him, forgetting for a moment that I’m still without my glamour. “I’m coming,” he whisper-shouts, and it’s the loudest I’ve ever heard him be in the library.

“I-I’m sorry, Emory, but I have to go. He really will leave me,” he tells me as he gathers his things, haphazardly shoving them into his bag. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but here.”

With my chin tucked into my chest, I watch as he pulls a piece of paper from his notebook and scribbles something on it before pushing it toward me.

“Text me, and we can, um, set up a time to finish this. Unfortunately, until the shop finishes with my car, I have to tag along with my brothers to and from campus. So this next week or two might be a little cr-crazy,” he says in a rush before taking off toward the door, leaving me staring down at the piece of paper with his phone number on it.

So much happened in just a few minutes. It was all such a rush that he hardly even stumbled over his words in his usual adorable way.

I sit for a minute, staring down at the paper, and let my eyes fall closed, carefully pulling my glamour back into place.

Aldric is his brother? And from the sounds of it, he isn’t the only one he has here. He said brothers with an s, as in plural.

Usually, I wouldn’t really care, but considering he’s my mate, it seems like that might matter. Even more so because I haveno idea what the fuck just happened. When Zephyr and I mated years ago, it wasn’t anything like this. It was a warm feeling, and it was something we both experienced. But from the looks of it, Silas didn’t even notice, and with how intense it was, it shouldn’t have just cut off like that.

Something’s going on here. I don't know what it is, but it looks like I’ll have to find out.

Damn, I guess I’ll be getting a damn phone while I’m at it, too.

Silas wasn’t joking when he said it would be crazy this week. Usually, he’s down to study just about whenever. I can almost always find him at the library after class, but not this week.

I’d left the other day and went right to the store to get a phone just to be able to reach him.

Who knew such a small thing could be so fucking hard to use? I’ll never understand the mortal’s obsession. Phones just as easily could have been used as a torture device, if you ask me. Regardless, I have one now, and I’ve been able to at least figure out texting after a day or two and a lot of help from Pix.

After three days of no luck in the library, I finally caved. I don’t necessarily need him for the project. It’s not difficult. Either of us could finish it independently, and our grades would be fine—not that I really care about that, but I know he does.

Will you be able to make it to the library today?

I press send and hope I did it right. My phone beeps a second later, and I almost fall out of my fucking chair at the sound. Why anyone would ever make something so small that damn loud makes no sense to me. My heart’s still racing as I pull up the messages app and find a response.

Emory?

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