Page 67 of Forbidden Magic
Without Flynn, Cole, Jessa, Brie or Vi, they’re too cowardly to approach me.
When a silhouette casts a shadow over my papers, I raise my head and expect the worst, my tongue sharpened by all the rage simmering inside me.
Trent is standing in front of me, his hair pulled back, his face ashen.
“Funny. I haven’t seen you all week.” The hardness in my voice barely covers up my wretched mood.
He passes a hand over his face and slumps down on the chair across from mine. “I was in Europe. My grandfather died.”
I glance up. “Oh.” I’d assumed Trent and Melanie were avoiding me for fear of being guilty by association. “I’m sorry. I thought—” My fingers cramp around my pen, and I look down at my ink-tainted hands. A heavy lump sits in my throat. “Things have been rough here.”
He moves to the empty seat next to me, and cups my face. “Heard about that.”
I welcome his kiss the way a drowning man clasps a buoy. It’s fresh and sweet and stripped of any afterthought or scheme.
“What about the others? Isn’t being seen with me a cardinal sin?”
“I don’t give a fuck.” He twines our fingers, bringing my hand up to his mouth and kissing the back of it.
My shoulders sag. “I’m sorry about your grandfather.”
He chucks out a low, painful laugh. “Don’t be. He was mostly an ass.”
“Then I’m sorry for thinking you’d abandoned me.”
“You can make it up to me sometime.” The bittersweet humor on his face pushes me into action.
I pack up my things in a hurry. “Come.”
“Where?”
“Let’s take a walk.” I throw my jacket on without buttoning it and pull him along.
His fingers wrap around mine.
Once we’re at a safe distance from the library, I stop abruptly and push Trent against a tree, swallowing his question with a searing kiss.
I tug on his tie—black, of course—and undo the first few buttons of his shirt. The hard but cool planes of his chest tighten my gut.
We kiss in the shadows on our way to Summer Hall, my jacket coming off my shoulders as the temperature changes, Trent’s cool hands becoming more and more enticing. I’m fire. He’s ice. We balance each other.
Like he’s read my thoughts, he spins me around and descends upon me, hunger blazing in his garnet eyes. I lean against the stones near the limits of the garden, my hands at my back.
I’m about to tilt my head back and offer him my throat, offering him my trust in exchange for his loyalty, a fair trade by anyone’s standards, when voices coax us out of the trance.
Trent and I dip below the edge of cedar.
“I’m just saying we could see more of each other,” Mr. Oz says.
“Eric…” The female voice belongs to Miss Eillis.
“Beth. We’ve been through this. I don’t mind the limitations or sacrifices. I need you in my life.”
Oz bends forward and captures her heart-shaped lips in a sensual kiss.
Miss Eillis stand on her tiptoes, being so tiny compare to the tall, rugged professor.
I stifle a giggle in my palm. I’m not the only one getting lucky tonight.
