Page 65 of Savage Hope

The rock forms in my gut as visions threaten to consume my sight, reliving the moment again and again. I glance away from him. I have to; if I don’t, I’ll say more, and I’ve already said enough.

Embarrassed by my rambling, I rise to my feet, avoiding his stare as I clear my throat.

“I should go.”

“You don’t have to,” he rushes out, scrubbing his chin as I peer at him from the corner of my eye.

“I know. Technically, I was here first, but I feel like I’m imposing,” I admit, and he climbs to his feet too.

“You’re not,” he insists, just as my stomach grumbles. He tilts his head, assessing me. “You’re hungry. How long have you been out here?”

I wave him off. “I was, but then…I’ll figure it out.”

Gathering his pad and pen, he pulls a backpack from the other side of him, tucking them away before retrieving a small paper bag. He flicks open the top, aiming the opening in my direction, but I can’t see from where I’m standing.

“How about we share this and head back to our quads?” When I don’t immediately answer, he slips his hand inside to reveal a sandwich in his grasp. “Turkey and swiss?” He waves it teasingly, making it sound like it’s something I should be salivating over, and truthfully, I’m so hungry, I could eat the slop back at Floretine’s without complaint.

The smile on his face makes it even more impossible to say no, so I take a deep breath and eliminate some of the distance between us. Once I’m at arm’s length, he hands me the sandwich before retrieving another from the bag, crumpling the paper, and stuffing it in his backpack before tossing it over his shoulder.

He takes the first step, and I follow. He takes the first bite, and I follow.

We eat in silence, the deliciousness consuming my every thought as we step out of the trees and follow the winding path toward the dorms. I take the last bite of my new favorite sandwich as we meet the fork in the road that leads to each dorm.

“Thank you for this, and for letting me talk your ear off,” I murmur, stopping at the path to the witches.

I don’t want to go back there, not really, but it’s not like I have another choice.

“It’s all good,” he breathes, hiking his backpack higher up his shoulder before stepping onto the sand.

I gape at him in surprise, rushing after him. “You don’t have to walk me all the way,” I state, and he grimaces.

“I’m more concerned with what you might be walking into.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” I don’t think I’ll be walking into anything dangerous…will I?

“I thought that’s why you were avoiding coming back.” He looks from me to the witches’ building and back again as my cheeks warm with another bout of embarrassment.

“No, I just, it’s calm out there, and it feels…freeing,” I admit, and he hums.

“Freeing? Florentine’s, right?”

“Right,” I confirm, ducking my head when the heat in my cheeks feels like I will ignite into real flames.

“I’m sorry about that.”

My gaze darts right back to his. “Why would you be sorry?”

He shrugs, unable to give me an answer, but his words appease something inside me nonetheless.

As we reach the door, I twist the handle and peek through the gap. The living room is back to normal, and a few witches arelounging in the space. I exhale a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding before turning my attention back to him.

His eyes are raking over me, making sure I’m okay, and I smile before placing my hand on his arm. He looks down at it, a little skittish as he tenses, but he doesn’t step away.

“Thank you.”

I’m trying to show my appreciation, but the words just aren’t enough.

“I haven’t done anything,” he breathes, looking deep into my eyes.

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