Page 72 of Consume Me

“I could, but then I would go find Tyson and finish what I started.”

“You can’t prohibit me from dating anyone.”

“We’ll see about that.”

I don’t follow the movie’s plot. We are all into action movies, and they’re what we watch most, but not even the fight scenes and bullets flying everywhere can hold my attention tonight. Of course, they don’t. Blake’s pressed next to me, our arms always touching whenever one of us moves. He has to be doing it on purpose because every time I go for a handful of popcorn, he does too.

When the movie ends, I am the last to stand, needing a few moments to gather myself. The remaining kernels from the bag on my lap topple over to the floor as if I needed more proof ofhow unbalanced I am. Sighing, I pick them up and discard the bag in the trash can in the kitchen.

Going to my room, I slide my back down the door and inhale deeply, trying to get a grip on my frayed emotions.

After locking the door, I change for bed, taking my laptop with me. Focusing on writing my midterm essay, I barely see the handle turning.

A satisfied smile lifts the corner of my mouth.

“Open the door.”

“Can’t. I’m busy,” I say, saving the document.

Seconds later, Blake struts inside. I blink at him, and he shows me this emerald golden dagger he used to crack the lock before strapping it around his ankle.

“That wasn’t an invitation.”

Fighting with him would be in vain, so I shut the lid to my laptop and place it on my nightstand, ignoring him. Then he does something I never thought possible: he comes to bed of his own accord.

“Really?”

“Now she wants to talk.”

“I always want to talk. You’re the damn untalkative stone.”

“Believe me, Silver, you don’t want me to talk right now.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Go to sleep,” he says, pulling me to his chest. A groan vibrates in his throat as I press against his chest, fitting as if this is my place, made for me.

“You still haven’t answered what you’re doing in my bed?”

“Trying something out.”

“I am not your guinea pig.”

“I am pumped up with energy. It’s you or Tyson. Your choice.”

“Fine. But for the record, that is blackmail.”

He chuckles, and those deep raspy sounds have a link to both my heart and between my legs. I tingle everywhere.

“You don’t laugh enough.”

“I don’t have much reason to laugh.”

“I thought you were mad at me.”

“I fucking am, but you’re also my peace.”

“Sure.”

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