Page 18 of Fight or Flight
Spare Parts: you good?
Jace: peachy
Jace: have fun plowing Myles all night
Spare Parts: I plan to
Not waiting to see if Jax has more to say, I switch to my text thread with Killian and Felix.
Jace: what are you guys up to?
I stand there for a full thirty seconds like a moron, but neither of them answer, which is answer enough. They’re doing each other, as usual.
Biting my lip to deflect some of the anger rising in my chest, I text Xave.
Jace: you still busy with Nico?
He doesn’t read the text right away, and after another thirty seconds of waiting for him to answer, I shove my phone in my pocket and stalk down the hall.
I have no idea where I’m going or what I’ll get up to, but sitting alone in my room isn’t an option right now. Not unless I want to put my fist through the wall at the first minor inconvenience I have to deal with.
I don’t even know why I’m in such a bad mood tonight, but being abandoned by my entire family definitely isn’t helping me calm the fuck down.
Schooling my expression into my usual casual mask, I slow my steps so I’m walking like a normal person and not like a pissed off juggernaut on the lookout for someone to fuck with, and make a beeline for the end of the hall.
I should get a workout in or go to the cliffs or do something physical that keeps me away from people right now. That would be the smart thing to do.
Too bad there’s no one here to remind me that the smart choice is the right one.
Not bothering with the elevator, I push open the door to the stairwell and hurry down to the main floor of the house, adding a little extra stomp to each of my steps just so the echo is louder than usual.
I have no clue why, but that bit of extra noise helps soothe some of the restlessness brewing inside me, but I’m still pissed off when I get to the main floor.
Hamilton House is a giant Gothic-looking Victorian mansion with all the amenities of a state-of-the-art compound but with the charm of Dracula’s summer home.
The antique furniture and turn-of-the-century touches, like the many chandeliers and wall sconces that glow like they’re being lit by candles and not LED lightbulbs, give the dark woodfloors and rich accents a luxurious and old-timey feel that’s as extra and ridiculous as everything else on campus.
The house is set up like most dorms, with the main floor made up of communal spaces like lounges and game rooms and study areas, and the dining hall, while the upper floors house our private rooms.
And just like any other frat or dorm, there are always guys hanging out in the common spaces, no matter what time of the day or night it is.
I pass by a group of guys playing a first-person shooter game in one of the many game rooms and another crowd huddled around a giant screen watching a hockey game in the lounge next to it.
I keep walking.
I’m not in the mood to pretend to give a shit about sports or a video game right now. I pass by a small group in one of the study rooms, but don’t stop, definitely not in the mood to study or read right now.
I’m almost on the other side of the building when laughter makes me pause. Inside is a group of guys sitting around a card table playing what looks like poker.
My gaze immediately falls on Shane, who’s staring intently at his cards and doesn’t seem to have noticed me.
Shane is an incredibly handsome guy with dark, chestnut hair that always looks a little wild thanks to the slight wave in it, and dark brown eyes framed by thick lashes. Pair those with his full lips, strong jawline and big, powerful body, and he’s hot as fuck.
But there’s something off about him tonight. It’s subtle, but there’s a tightness to his features that isn’t usually there, and his shoulders are higher than they typically are, like he’s tense about something.
One of the guys next to him says something, and the entire table laughs as another guy tosses down two cards and gets two replacements from the dealer.
Shane laughs along with everyone else, but it’s forced and unnatural, and his smile is clearly fake, even though he’s doing his best to cover it up.
