Page 164 of The Kiss Of Death
“A wise woman and my therapist told me once if I wanted to have you back, I’d need to grovel, whatever that means, so I think that’s what I’m doing,” I said, referring to the moment I had made the mistake of calling her grandma to invite her today. It ended in a two-hour call about how if I were to hurt her granddaughter again, she’d bury me alive in the coffin that she had already tailor-made for me.
That was a sweet gesture, but even death couldn’t separate me from Dalia. I had already requested to be buried next to her, preferably in the same coffin, under a vault I’d build in her name, like a goddess the mortals would pray to. Some wouldcall this creepy. I called it romantic. Dalia would never die. I wouldn’t allow it. She deserved immortality, one way or another.
“This is wonderful, thank you so much!” She went to hug her grandma, claiming the center spot, drinking beers with Sylas, some Unifiers, and a Guardian dude from her music class.
I claimed a seat in a secluded corner. By then, she must have known I liked to watch more than participating in those social things. Tara had the same idea as me, standing alone at the bar, adopting a facade of disinterest as she tapped her foot on the ground.
“Welcome to the losers’ corner,” Tara said with a mocking smile.
“No one forced you to come. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you actually like Dalia,” I countered.
She grimaced. “This is ridiculous, I’m leaving.”
“Tara!” Her sister rushed to her, taking her hand. “Come with us!”
Tara’s stern facade crumbled while she, her sister, and Dalia entered a dance circle.
Just like her music, my broken doll made the world beautiful.
I spent the entire night observing the radiant smiles that adorned her face while she celebrated amid the family she had carefully assembled for herself.
By the end of the night, she had spent 3.7 million from my bank account and made me a philanthropist.
That’s my good girl.
“You have to stop staring at me like that,” I muttered, replaying my audition piece for the umpteenth time.
Levi sat on my bed, his legs crossed, wearing his Tactician’s uniform. His gaze bore into me while Yasmine’s cat, usually loyal to her, betrayed her by curling up on Levi’s lap instead. I chose to keep my distance, sitting on the opposite side of the bed, not trusting myself so close to him.
He flashed one of his cruel smiles. “Why? Worried you’ll lose control and I’ll thoroughly enjoy it?” Levi and I had been going on dates for the past few weeks. Dates as friends. Each time he walked me back to my dorm, he never once tried to steal a kiss—probably because I’d shut the door in his face so quickly. I made it a point to irritate Levi, dragging him to places I knew he’d dislike: enduring four-hour operas for a class assignment, supporting me through my mental breakdowns, or even attending rowing races to watch Sylas compete. Despite it all, he never complained.
I now had nearly a hundred ribbons, and Levi had somehow managed to endear himself to Yasmine and even Sylas, who occasionally cracked a smile at his sarcasm.
“You’re gorgeous when you’re overthinking,” he purred, his voice smooth as velvet. Setting Baron aside, he moved closer to me, a menacing glint in his eyes. “I’ve been having not-so-nice thoughts about you that might just ruin our friendship.”
“Levi,” I said, and he lowered himself, his hand grazing my cheek, sending my heart into a frenetic rhythm.I’ve missed him. I’ve missed him so much. “Tomorrow is…”
“I know.” His lips tilted into a thin line, his thumb tracing my lips. “That’s why, if you’re feeling stressed out, I’m willing to go down on you and brighten both of our days.”
I shook my head, nudging him slightly. “That’s not reallyfriendly,right?”
“You don’t see it, but this friend thing is a masquerade. What we have is a relationship, minus the sex you’ve been refusing me, but well, when it comes to you, I can be insanely patient. The only thing that will change is the fact that I’ll give you many orgasms, and you’ll help me with my case of blue balls,” he said, his voice hard and rough, his eyes piercing mine. “You want a friend? I’m your friend, but it won’t change what we are.”
I wet my lips, leaning in. “And what are we?”
The door opened, and Yasmine returned from the library at the worst moment. It was as if she had a sixth sense.
“Oops.” She lifted a brow. “I just killed your mood, but then I’m not even sorry. I’m single. This display of affection makes the idea of taking a shower with my hair dryer very appealing.”
I bit my lips and pulled away, my heart pounding frantically in my chest. “Good night, Levi.”
He leaned in to kiss my cheek, whispering in my ear, “Good night, my little thief. I hope you’ll think of me when you touch yourself because I certainly will. I’ll meet you an hour before your audition tomorrow to wish you good luck.” Levi stood and waved at Yasmine. “Thanks for killing my hard-on, Yasmine; such a team player.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiled, slamming the door behind him. “You look flushed and frustrated.”
I collapsed on my bed, my hands covering my face, heat igniting my belly.
“I miss him, Yas, I want to—” I said, almost pleading, kicking my legs in the air. “I have literal goose bumps. My heart breaks every day I pretend we’re friends, and he plays the friend part so well. Yasmine, I’m going crazy!”
