Page 83 of Feathers of Ash and Hope

“Speak quietly, or we’ll have an audience in a minute.” I watch while he struggles to compose himself and only now realize that he’s shirtless. Damn. Maybe I’m not fine after all if I missed that detail until now.

I used to drool over that sight when we were kids, and he’s totally drool-worthy, but the zing of heat I’m used to feeling around him doesn’t come.

Yep, broken.

He squeezes his eyes shut, visibly fighting with his temper, releasing my arms in the process. I inch slowly toward the door, then stop when his eyes fly open, pinning me with a glare.

“I should send you home, this minute.” His voice is a hiss through clenched teeth. “Are you out of your mind? Why aren’t you in your bed like you’re supposed to be?”

“I thought we were through that already. The whole I send you home, I mean.”

“That was before you climbed through my window in the middle of the night. Why?”

“Why did I come through your window? Mine was stuck this time.” I wince at my slipup.

“This time?” He’s shouting again but lowers his voice immediately. “Are you telling me this isn't the first time you disregarded curfew to bump through the night?”

“I had things to do.” I shrug.

“Like what?”

I smile at him. “Sending letters to appease my brothers, of course.”

“You do realize how fucked up that is, right? Risking yourself to tell them you are safe and fine.”

I pat his chest reassuringly, knowing quite well it will infuriate him and test me at the same time. Having my fingers on his warm skin should do something to me. But there is nothing. I scrunch up my brow in confusion. This is weird. I’ve had a crush on Joel since… like forever.

I shake my head and hurry to the door. Joel follows, but I quickly slip out into the corridor before he can stop me.

“Good night,” I whisper, leaving him standing in the open doorway. I turn and walk straight into a broad chest. Strong arms steady me. The smell of pine, leather, and night air as well as the warmth of his gift tell me exactly who it is before I lift my eyes. My whole body lights up like a bonfire. Well, shit. Why do I always have to run into him, of all people?

My gaze travels up and finds honey-colored eyes trained on Joel, looking ready for murder.

Tate blinks, and the emotion vanishes. His face relaxes. Then his eyes meet mine. No, I was wrong. His eyes aren’t calm at all. A thrill zips through my chest and drips down, creating a dull pulsing heat that has me shifting.

I have the strangest urge to rush out an explanation for being in Joel’s room at night, to make him understand.

Which is ridiculous. Nothing is going on between Joel and me, and I don’t owe Tate anything.

I don't turn around, but I know Joel is still standing bare-chested in his doorway. I know exactly what this looks like. I’m disheveled and slightly out of breath, and Joel is only half-dressed.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Follow me, Summer.” Tate’s voice is clipped and emotionless, and he doesn’t even wait for an answer before he turns around and strides away.

I’m not sure what to make of that.

I reassure Joel that I’m fine and send him a strained smile before I follow Tate down the corridor.

Tate

Seeingher step out of Cassius’s room in the middle of the night, her cheeks flushed and her hair mussed, my first instinct is to fucking kill him. The reaction is so primal and raw, it shocks me. I am still rooted to the floor as she walks right into me. The smell of rain, night air, and simply Ara hits me at the same time her body does.

It is pure reflex that I catch her before she stumbles back. My hands meet cool, damp fabric before they snatch her waist, reminding me just how small it is under all those loose clothes.

My eyes lock with Ara’s, and I step back, releasing her.

“Follow me, Summer.” I turn around and stride down the hall, before I do something stupid like planting my fist into the face of one of my squadron leaders.

---