Page 93 of I Blame the Rival

“We’ll see.” Vector brushes past me but pauses at the door, “Oh, and do me a favour. Don’t leave him crippled on the floor next time.”

He shuts the bedroom door before I can respond.

God. I think he’s worse than my roommate.

Blowing out a breath, I walk over to check on Skylar’s unconscious form. His face is pressed against the pillow, the tension drained from his features as sleep chases away the demons of today.

He normally sleeps in just his underwear, so I quickly tug off his jeans and carefully remove his shirt. He doesn’t stir when I slide my hand across his chest, feeling the reassuring beat of his heart.

“It’s okay, Skylar. You’re safe now.”

I whisper the promise before shedding my clothes and pulling on his discarded shirt. Sliding under the covers, I snuggle up beside him and let the warmth of his body soothe the anxiety from my mind.

It was a hell of a night, but Vector was right about one thing.

I will always fight for Skylar.

Skylar

She stayed.

My heart feels full as I drag my eyes over Lacey’s sleeping frame, watching the way her chest falls with each breath. Dark curls cover half of my pillow as well as her own, and I can’t help but touch a strand just to make sure she’s real.

I can’t believe she stayed.

Closing my eyes against the memories of last night’s train wreck, I’m willing myself to fall back asleep when something wet presses against my nose. It happens again and the giggles that follow suit have my face breaking into a smile.

“Are you having fun?”

I open my eyes just in time to see Lacey try and lick my nose for a third time. She shrieks, pulling her tongue back into her mouth.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Uh huh.”

Before she can blink, I lean forward and lick her lips. A loud gasp fills my room as big green eyes accuse me of initiating the game in the first place.

“You can only do it when the person is sleeping! It doesn’t count if I can see you.”

“There are rules?”

She smiles, “Of course. If the other person catches you, you lose by default.”

I lean forward and lick her lips again.

“Skylar! I just told you that’s how you lose.” Her scolding tone breaks off in a laugh when I try and do it again, “What are you doing? The game is over.”

My chest feels impossibly light when I look at her, the crinkles around her eyes putting the same ones in my heart.

“I wanted to taste your smile.”

“You’re such a weirdo.”

She’s smiling when she says it, and unlike the other times I’ve been called that, it sounds like something positive. Like maybe she likes my peculiar parts.

Maybe she loves them.

I stare at the girl lying beside me, the girl who told me she loved me. She said it after I spent thirty minutes crying out years’ worth of guilt and grief over my brother’s drug use. It’s the last thing I remember before blacking out and that fact alone confirms the one thing I know about myself.

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