Page 95 of Beautiful Sinners

“On the plane.Tá mé i ngrá leat.”

“I want to hear you say it just like that while I’m buried deep inside you,” he says against my lips before kissing me.

This man and his beautifully filthy mouth.

Tristan goes over to his chest of drawers and shucks on a pair of black boxer briefs.

“Hen and I are dropping out of DF,” he announces like it’s no big deal when it’s anything but.

When did they decide this? I’m caught off guard for the millionth time, and I’m getting sick and tired of it.

Hendrix chucks a pillow at his head. “Thanks for being the Debbie Downer in the room, asshole.”

Not understanding the logic, I say, “But you’ll be graduating in May.”

It makes absolutely no sense to me why they would waste almost four years only to say “fuck it” months before graduation.

He scratches his chest over the flower and heart tattoo that represents his sister. “Never wanted a degree or to go to college. The only reason we’re here is because it was expected of us.”

It’s funny how I wound up in the same place I’d be anyway if my parents were still alive. And as much as I didn’t care for my public high school in Dilliwyll, I would have hated the all-girls academy I would’ve been forced to attend even more.

Tristan brings me one of his shirts. It smells like him. I hope he doesn’t expect me to give it back because it’s mine now. I lift my arms for him to pull it over my head. The soft cotton feels comforting as it slides against my abraded, sensitized skin. Several new marks—some of them fingerprint bruises where the guys’ hands held my hips when they took me from behind—adorn my body.

Taking the pillow Tristan tosses back, I hug it to my chest. My fingers anxiously dig into the goose-down filling as I struggle not to freak out.

“So you’re leaving?” I ask, slightly panicked.

It’s inevitable that they would leave once they graduated. New York would’ve been my guess since that’s where their families’ businesses are headquartered. However, I thought I had at least another eight months with them before that happened.

Constantine grabs my ankle. “I’m staying at DF. Might as well finish my bachelor’s in computer science.”

“We’re dropping out, baby, not leaving you. Where you are, we are. You’re our home, Aoife.”

Tristan’s words melt over me, sweet like honey. They also worry me. I don’t want to be the reason that binds them to a place and a life they don’t want. Relationships are destroyed when one person loves another so much that they giveup everything, become someone who they’re not, just to conform to what the other person wants. Our parents did that to us. We had no choice and no free will. I won’t become another shackle that keeps the guys chained to the ground when all they want to do is fly.

I stretch forward and kiss his full mouth. “And you’re mine. No matter where we go or where we are,gheobhaidh mo chroí do chroí. My heart will find yours.”

Needing a moment to process, I finish my coffee and get up.

“I’m going to take a shower and get ready for class. Alone,” I add when Hendrix looks like he’s going to follow me.

CHAPTER 33

Inspecting my overall appearance in the bathroom mirror, I apply another layer of liquid foundation to better camouflage the bruise on my face. I feel almost normal after taking a long, scalding-hot shower and putting on my favorite Seamus Knox tee, but until the bite marks heal on my thighs, I’ll have to wear either jeans or leggings.

Finished with the makeup, I remove the headband holding my hair back and store it in my cosmetics bag. I left my hair down today after taking the time to blow it dry. My blonde roots are beginning to show, but I’m thinking of letting it grow out a little more before I decide if I’m going to color it again.

Picking up my phone where I propped it on the vanity, I take it to the bench seat next to the window in my bedroom. The sun rose a little while ago, and the sky outside is painted a pastel watercolor.

Rearranging the throw pillows, I recline back against the wall and text Raquelle.

Me: I’m dressed. Meet up at the SU?

While I wait, I open the internet browser and search for any mention of Hendrix’s family estate or Eva and find nothing. I didn’t expect to. One thing the Society does well is protect itself.

My phone chirps, and Raquelle’s reply pops up.

Raquelle: Just got out of the shower. Give me 30?

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