Page 96 of Fight or Flight
I stay where I am for a few beats as the reality of the situation hits. But instead of freaking out, all I can feel is a sense of calm.
Slowly, I pull up my pants and do them up with shaking hands, and when I finally turn around, Jace is already put together and looking like nothing happened.
“Am I decent?” I ask.
He gives me a quick once-over, then shakes his head as another of his smirk smiles tilts his lips.
I go over to the mirror to check the damage. It’s not bad. I can fix my hair and shift my shirt to cover the marks on my neck, but my glassy eyes and flushed cheeks are as obvious as wearing a neon sign saying I just got my world rocked.
“Whatever,” I mutter and smooth down my hair. It’s not like anyone is going to be all that shocked that I look like I just had sex, considering the type of party we’re at.
“Ready to go?” Jace asks, breaking the lengthy silence that fell over us.
I nod and step back from the mirror.
He unlocks the door and looks into the hall, then motions for me to follow him.
The hallway is empty as we make our way to the main entrance, and the bored kid in the jester costume is the only person we see as we leave King House.
16
SHANE
We don’t talkas we tap our IDs at the gate, and my nerves come back in full force the moment the house disappears from sight.
“Do you think they suspect anything?” I ask in a weird whisper-hiss as we walk toward Hamilton House.
The path is empty, and there’s no one around, but that doesn’t help calm my fears or the anxiety rising inside me.
“Doubt it. They wouldn’t have let us leave if they did,” he says, and his confidence helps quell some of my fear.
“Are you sure?” I ask as excitement replaces more of my fear.
“I’m sure.”
“What if they figure out what we did?” I ask as my nerves once again mix with the buzzing excitement.
“They won’t. But if by some miracle they do, then we’ll deal with them.”
“Why do you have to have layers?” I say before I can stop myself.
He shoots me a surprised look. “What do you mean?”
“Like, why do you have to have layers?” I’m babbling again, but I’m too hyped up on adrenaline and the lingering afterglow of my orgasm to care. “For almost three years, I thoughtyou were nothing but a one-dimensional stereotype whose sole mission in life was to be as annoying as possible, but you’re not. You have layers, and you’re interesting, and I don’t like it.”
“You don’t like that I’m interesting, or you don’t like that you’re interested in me?”
“I never said I was interested in you, just that you’re interesting.”
“And you don’t like that I’m interesting?”
“No, because now I can’t just blindly hate you like I did before.”
“You never hated me,” he says as we round a corner and our dorm comes into view.
I’m not surprised to see that the courtyard is dead and most of the lights are off. With the new curfew in place, not a lot of guys are sticking around on the weekends anymore.
“Pretty sure I did,” I tell him.
