Page 67 of The Sound of Us

“I didn’t ask for that,” I said, my stomach queasy.

“I want you and only you.” Dante’s voice dropped to a husky rumble. “I wanted you from the moment we met. And every time I see you, I want you more.” He threaded his hand through my hair, and rubbed his thumb gently over my cheek, the emotion on his face so real and raw it made my heart ache. “When I saw you with Blake…” His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. “I was jealous, Skye. So, fucking jealous. I can’t lose you, so if this is what you need, let’s make it official.”

“I don’tneedto make it official.” I pulled away. “I just want to understand what we have.” Official meant commitment. It meant opening myself up to disappointing someone all over again. It meant taking the risk that I wasn’t good enough all over again. My blood chilled at the growing realization that the reason I hadn’t wanted to open this door was not because I needed a commitment, but because I knew I couldn’t give it.

A pained expression crossed his face. “Isn’t that why you brought this up? Because you wanted this out in the open? I’m touching you now.”

“In an alcove where it’s unlikely anyone could see us and in a lounge with only five people, three of whom are asleep,” I retorted.

“What do you want?” His voice was laced with the thinnest thread of desperation. “Do you want to fuck right here, Skye? Or should we go where there are more people? Do you need an audience? What do I have to do?”

“Dante…” I stared at him aghast.

“I’m giving everything I can give you.” His voice cracked with emotion. “What else do you need?”

“I don’t know.” My hands fisted on the couch. “I was happy just doing what we were doing. But then Isla thinks… and Haley said… and Blake thought I was with Ethan, and when I told him that wasn’t true, he asked me out. I didn’t know what we were or why it has to be a secret or whether I wasn’t good en—”

“He asked you out?” Dante froze and his eyes hardened. “What did you say?”

“I said…” God, how did this become such a tangle? “I’d go for a drink with him sometime.”

“Of course you did.” His voice turned to ice, cold and unforgiving. “You’ve had your walk on the wild side and now it’s back to polo-shirt-wearing clean-cut athletes named Blake. Was it fun, Skye? Did you enjoy getting your hands dirty?”

Gritting my teeth, I hugged my bag to my chest. “That’s not fair. It’s not like I led him on. And I agreed to go for a drink because he’s helping me with an assignment. I’m not interested in Blake that way, and he didn’t come here to ask me out. He said Ethan had told the team I was off-limits.”

“Off-limits?” Dante barked a harsh laugh. “Now you’re planning to date Ethan, too? Well enjoy. I’m sure he’s everything you want.”

“You don’t understand—”

But it was too late. He was already winding his way through the tables toward the exit.

I wanted to follow him, but I simply couldn’t move.

What just happened?My head was still spinning. He wanted me. There was no one else. He would make it official. He was jealous. But then the thought of me with someone else had sent him away. Was it me or was it him? I didn’t know what was driving Dante, but I knew what drove me. He’d opened up, and I’d closed the door. I was still afraid—afraid of taking a risk, of making a mistake, of being rejected. And this time, instead of just hurting myself, I’d hurt someone else. Someone I cared about.

Someone who cared about me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX“Way down We Go” by KaleoDANTE

When Noah called me in to his office on the Wednesday after my blowup with Skye, I was expecting him to tell me that he wanted Skye and me to hostMusical Divideon a permanent basis. Our ratings had been through the roof and the show was bringing some much needed attention to the station. I’d never hosted a show with anyone else, but it was easy with Skye. I’d become so involved in our spirited debate that I’d almost forgotten we were on the air. But after our conversation in the student lounge, I had no idea whether our show the next day would go on.

“Close the door.”

The skin on the back of my neck prickled in warning. When had Noah ever asked me to close the door? Noah believed that people should learn how the station was run from every level and that included management decisions. He only ever closed the door for personal matters.

“What’s going on?”

“What the hell is this?” Noah held up a flyer advertising my essay-writing service—a flyer I had never authorized. “I saw Nick pinning it to the corkboard. At first, I thought it was his business and I told him that if he wanted to continue being part of this station, he would have to take down the website right then and there. He said he couldn’t do it. Damn idiot was prepared to take the fallrather than give you up. But I knew he was holding something back. I asked around and he’d recommended your business to a few other volunteers. They knew you were behind it.”

I shrugged, at a loss to understand his fury. “I wanted to help people who weren’t good at writing.”

“Bullshit,” he yelled, slapping his palm on the desk. “Do you think you helped Nick?” His face was red, the vein throbbing at the base of his neck. “What happens when he gets into the real world and he can’t write for shit? You took something away from him—an opportunity to learn to do it for himself. After everything you’ve done to get as far as you have, how could you be so stupid?”

It took a long time before my brain could catch up. First, Noah never yelled. In all the years I’d known him, he’d never once raised his voice no matter how big the screw up. Second, Noah never swore or called people names, not even in jest. Third, he knew about the essay-writing service, but it seemed he didn’t know about Skye.

“I told you I had a side hustle,” I protested. “And it’s not illegal. It’s on the line. I don’t write the essays. I don’t submit the essays. I’m just a middleman bringing people together.”

“It’s academic dishonesty and you know it,” he shouted. “You’re putting your degree… hell, you’re putting your whole future at risk.”

---