Page 81 of Magical Academy for Delinquents
He rolled his eyes with an adorable blush, climbed out of bed and took off his shoes, then climbed back in again. His hulking form was like a mountain next to mine. The heat that rolled off him was like a volcano. He offset the night chill perfectly. Part of me wanted to snuggle up against him. But the other part of me didn’t know if he was okay with that. Or ready for that. Particularly with a line of guys behind him.
We stared at each other in the dark for a moment, before I used my palm to create some tiny droplets of light between us. They glimmered like fairy lights. I let them swirl through the air and settle around Evan’s head like a crown.
“Do I look like a princess?” he raised his brows.
I giggled, like I was fucking seven, and waved the lights away. “Sorry. Too much time around Zavier. Thank you for staying. I really don’t want to go to sleep right now,” I admitted. “After that—”
“Want me to distract you?” He asked in a gruff whisper.
I smiled, my body immediately getting hot and bothered. My nipples perked and my breathing grew shallow. My eyes traced Evan’s biceps and I waited for his kiss, anticipation coiling in my stomach.
Instead of leaning forward to kiss me, Evan pulled a complete one-eighty. He rolled onto his back and propped his head up on his arm. He stared up at my ceiling as I stared down at him, confused and a little embarrassed. Had I read the situation wrong? Had Zavier been wrong when he said Evan was in love with me?OMG. Does Evan just think of me as a kid sister?Was it guilt that had been driving him to follow me all these years?
“You know that birthday prank? Where we decorated the school?” Evan’s words interrupted the ten-car pileup that was my mind at that moment. Thoughts and fears and insecurities were streaking in from every direction to smash into each other and build a hulking mess.
It took me a minute to process his change of direction, his words, and answer him. “Um. Yeah. Why?”
Evan glanced over at me and then back up at the ceiling. “It wasn’t Matthew’s idea.”
“What?” That revelation had me sitting up in bed. I’d given Matthew shit for months about that and he’d just laughed, punching me in the shoulder and saying he bet I’d be even more embarrassed next year. My hands clutched at the sheets and I turned to look at Evan.
“Why would you want to embarrass me that bad?”
“Embarrass you?” Now Evan leaned up. “Shit, I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Hailstorm.” He swallowed and I could see his Adam’s apple bob slightly. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I thought Matthew was just giving me shit when he said you were pissed.”
“Yeah. Um. No. I pretty much wanted to die. I hated people looking at me back then.”
“Well, fuck.”
Based on Evan’s reaction, his downcast face, the birthday thing hadn’t been meant as a prank. My voice was thin as I asked, “Why would you do something like that?” Hope started to melt away the fear around my heart.
I watched Evan, waving my hand so the glimmering drops of light hovered just around his face so that I could see each micro-expression. Fear. Resolve. Resignation. More fear.
Evan’s hand reached down under the sheets and he pulled up his wallet.
At first, I thought he’d just decided not to answer me. But then he pulled a little pink square of paper out of the slot for bills. He held it between his thumb and pointer finger, staring at it, before he sighed and handed it to me, saying, “Here.”
I took the little square and unfolded it. As I did, recognition washed over me. The pink paper had little purple lines on it and one of the edges was ripped. It was a page from my diary. I unfolded it to see the words ‘Hayley Weston’ surrounded by a heart.
I glanced back at Evan.
His eyes avoided mine. “Um. I’m sorry about the birthday thing. And about this one time I stole your diary—”
I grabbed onto Evan’s massive shoulders and turned him toward me. And then I attacked his face with kisses. I pummeled him with my lips, pressing them to his cheeks, his jaw, even his nose. I punctuated each peck with scolding. “You. Are. The. Biggest. Jerk. Ever. Don’t. You. Know. Diaries. Are. Sacred?”
Inside though, my heart was a dove on fire, dazzling and impossible and miraculous. My hands traveled over Evan’s massive chest, caressing his pecs, lingering on his shoulders, sparks of electricity lit up a metal button on his shirt. Evan had liked me. He’d stolen my diary page and then done this massive, foolish, typical-teenage lovestruck boy thing for me. And it was amazing. The sepia taint of that memory fell away and it became technicolor.
My lips continued to dance over Evan’s skin. And gradually, his lips joined mine. Like a shy girl being led to her first dance, hesitant and excited, and full of nervous energy, his lips stepped on mine, tripped. I just laughed and he tried again. The second time, he got it right.
A tear of joy streaked from my eye when his arms wrapped around me and he pulled me in tight and began to kiss me for real. Not hesitant anymore. Evan claimed me. His tongue demanded mine and his hands covered my hips and back, encasing me in warm, bright love. And for a second, I forgot how broken I was. I forgot how mangled my heart had become.
When Evan held me, I felt like the old me again. I felt whole.
He laid me down on the bed gently, like I was made of porcelain. His tenderness made me laugh and pull him closer.
“You aren’t going to break me,” I whispered.
“I’m going to try,” he smiled back.
