Page 104 of Kings & Corruption

They looked at each other, some kind of unspoken communication seeming to track between them.

“I’ll take you up,” Rock said.

“What about him?” I asked, looking at Enzo. His face was hardly recognizable.

Neo met my eyes. “Don’t worry about him.”

“Is he… is he alive?” I asked.

“He’s alive.” Neo didn’t sound happy about it.

I nodded, and Rock put his arm around me and guided me to the stairs.

We climbed to the third floor in silence. Rock hesitated when we reached my door.

“Want me to stay with you?” he asked.

I looked up at him. “Would you?”

“You don’t even have to ask.” He opened the door to my room, then closed it behind us.

I crawled into bed and he dragged a chair from the sitting area over to the bed and took a seat.

I pulled the covers up and looked at him through the darkness. “You’re too far away.”

He got up and slid into bed next to me, lifting an arm so I could snuggle up against his chest.

“That’s better,” I said.

He pulled me tighter against his chest, and I remembered that he’d walked in on Oscar and me earlier.

“About earlier,” I said.

He kissed my head. “No explanation necessary.” He chuckled softly. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

I inhaled the scent of him and let my eyes drift closed. I didn’t know what he meant, but it sounded pretty good.

Chapter45

Willa

He was gone when I woke up the next morning, and I could tell it was late even without looking at my phone. The sun slanted in through the wall of windows, heating my room and casting it in warm autumn light.

I checked my phone — after 11 a.m. — and yawned.

Last night seemed like a dream.

Or a nightmare really.

Had it happened? I grabbed the pillow next to me and inhaled Rock’s scent to confirm.

Yep, he’d definitely been there, as evidenced by the desire that woke up every nerve ending in my body.

I wasn’t eager to greet the day after what had happened with Enzo, but I needed to go down and scope out the situation.

I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, then pulled my hair into a messy bun. I tugged on some flannel bottoms, hoping Neo or Oscar had picked my shorts off the kitchen floor before the other guys could see them, and started downstairs.

It was almost noon, so it was no surprise that someone was in the kitchen. Rock for sure — I caught the smell of cooking bacon — and at least one other person. They were talking quietly, their voice a soothing murmur behind the clink of utensils on plates and the sizzle of frying meat.

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