Page 7 of Honorable Convictions
“That’s not going to happen.”
To his surprise and delight, the door between them disappeared to be replaced by a stunning blond with a stubborn tilt to his chin and rage churning in his pretty green eyes. “You need to leave.”
“You’re upset.”
“Yes, I am. I’m also experiencing nausea, so unless you want me to puke on you, I suggest you march back to where you came from. Goodness knows you were enjoying yourself.”
Choosing not to inform him that Mitchell had already vomited on Trista, he simply grinned. “I did like seeing you.”
The kissable lips firmed into a straight line, and if possible, the anger in his gaze strengthened. His words had apparently not pleased Pierson. “Really added to the overall experience, didn’t it?”
“Considering how handsome you are, I would say so.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Look, I know it wasn’t an ideal meeting between us, but—”
“Notideal?” Pierson cut in icily. “That’s the biggest understatement I can imagine. I’ve been sitting in here, frustrated that my body wouldn’t hurry up and get better. Little did I know what awaited me when I finally did emerge. What I wish is that I’d stayed put and never laid eyes on you.”
“I’m trying to apologize here, Blondie.”
“This is an apology?”
“I was getting to it,” Mitchell retorted. Although he understood why Pierson was upset, he wasn’t giving Mitchell a chance to string together the correct words to remedy the situation.
“I’m waiting.”
“It’s not easy to say I’m sorry for what you had to see.”
Pierson scoffed. “Especially since you were too busy enjoying it.”
“I wasn’t enjoying it until I saw you.”
There was a sharp inhale; then Mitchell had to move quickly so that the door didn’t hit his nose. “Get the fuck away from my room,” Pierson demanded in a cold voice.
The stupidity of the way Mitchell had phrased it wasn’t helping matters, and he was making the situation worse. “I didn’t have any clue about what sex would feel like until Trista—”
“For Fate’s sake, I don’t want to hear about it. I already can’t stop seeing it. What the hell are you trying to do?”
“I told you. I want to apologize.”
“Fine, you’re sorry. Now go away.”
“Pierson, come on. We have a lot to talk about.”
There was silence, and Mitchell raised his fist to knock when Pierson spoke again. “I’m going to be sick.”
That was followed by the unmistakable sound of retching, and Mitchell let out a sigh. His intention was to fix what he could about their initial meeting, but clearly Pierson wasn’t ready to have any kind of worthwhile discussion. Saddened and helpless, Mitchell left his mate to his illness and wandered to his dorm to think about the right words to say to him. Although things were a mess, Mitchell had joy under his despair. The one thing he didn’t like was being alone, and Fate had answered his call. Pierson would be at his side for eternity, and nothing was lovelier than that.
Chapter 4
The loud clatter of two ringing bells cut through the silence of Pierson’s room, but it didn’t wake him. Lying there for hours, he’d wondered about his short existence. The good news was that he nolonger had any sickness plaguing him, which was ideal since training was beginning. Pierson swung his legs to the floor and didn’t object when Wade stomped into the bathroom and shut himself inside. Since he’d taken a shower the night before, Pierson peeled himself off the mattress to get dressed.
Excitement and dread ran through him. Being a good fallen knight meant everything to him, and he was ready to push himself, so he had little anxiety. It was the fact that he’d be doing it alongside his mate that had him wishing things were different. In the predawn hours, he’d decided that there was no way Mitchell had known they were going to meet at that exact moment, which allowed his anger to fizzle.
Mitchell hadn’t been trying to sear horrible memories into his brain, but they were there anyway. It was up to Pierson to figure out how to deal with that and the man himself. If things over the next few days proved to be as grueling as he’d been warned, then it was best to wait for any further confrontation with Mitchell. Just as Pierson was done pulling on his uniform and boots, Wade emerged from the bathroom. Like Pierson, he appeared ready to start their morning.
They didn’t speak. Wade had made it clear that Pierson’s actions were those of a squeamish child. Resurrected to police the Council, they were destined to witness worse, and Pierson had to find a way to react that suited the situation. Nothing about the short lecture had given Pierson any reason to confide in Wade that his issue was because of who Mitchell was to him rather than what Trista had been doing to him. Solemnly, Pierson followed Wade out of their shared space and down the hall.
