Page 98 of Beautiful Sinners

I wonder how I’ll feel seeing Gabriel again. In order to protect Alana, would I still want to kill him given the chance? Which side of me would win out—Aoife or Syn? My darkness or my light?

CHAPTER 34

Finding an unoccupied bistro table outside the student union, I text Raquelle to let her know where I am, then sit back and enjoy my iced coffee. A light breeze lifts the ends of my hair as I look up at the cloudless aqua sky. I take a quiet moment to soak in the sun’s warming rays, but that moment is fleeting because it’s interrupted by Aleksander’s smooth baritone.

“No bodyguards today?”

Without an invitation, he takes a seat across from me, all grins and dimples. The band tee that fits his muscular chest like a second skin is not his usual attire of dress slacks and button-up shirt. Tristan has a similar fashion style, but I don’t voice my comparison for obvious reasons.

After I told Tristan and Constantine about Alana and Gabriel, Tristan said he was going for a run. He hadn’t returned by the time I left the house—without Hendrix or Constantine, who made it crystal clear they were not happy about me walking to campus by myself. I didn’t give them a choice. I’m done with the mandated babysitting and compulsory escorts. Besides, this morning I was taking a page out of Andie’s book and having some girl time with Raquelle.

“We both know I don’t need one,” I coldly reply, wishing I had my knife Hendrix finally returned to me this morning.

He looks amused at my rebuke. “No, you most certainly do not.”

Sitting back in my chair, I mask my interest in why he’s here with a practiced resting bitch face. “What do you want, Aleksander?”

“I thought you’d like to have this back.”

He drops my backpack onto the tabletop, and I snatch it from his grasp, not waiting for him to leave before checking its contents. Not only is my journal there, so is my laptop, textbooks, the dresses and heels Raquelle gave me to wear, and Tristan’s prescription bottle of migraine medication. I double check the zipper and interior pockets. No cell phone.

I gape at him and can only manage a bewildered, “How?”

His mouth tips up at the corners with a pleased grin. It’s disconcerting how charming he looks when he smiles.

“I have my ways.”

He stands up, making like he’s about to go, even though he just got here. With the sun directly behind him, his tall stature is outlined in a rim of golden yellow.

Acting as if he’s suddenly shy, he slips his hands inside his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “You look very pretty today.”

My eyes widen at the unexpected compliment, and I unconsciously touch my hair.

“Thank you?” I reply more as a question.

“You’re welcome.” He places a torn piece of notebook paper in front of me.

“What’s this?” I ask, picking it up.

“My private number. See you around, songbird.”

He walks off before I can open my mouth to tell him I don’t need or want his phone number.

What. The. Fuck?

When the guys find out Aleksander sought me out again, they’re going to flip.

I take out my journal and check the front inside cover.

“Oh, thank God,” I whisper when I see Tristan’s pressed flower and my clover.

I jump when Raquelle exclaims, “Hey, girl!”

She bends to give me a quick hug, smelling like paint fumes and jasmine, and sits down in the chair Aleksander just vacated. Her hair is pulled back with a yellow flower-print bandana and braided in pigtails that reach past her shoulders. She’s swapped her usual pastel coveralls with a cute sundress and cardigan. Raquelle looks like springtime and sunny days.

I hide the slip of paper Aleksander gave me inside the front cover with my pressed flower and put my journal away. Getting situated, Raquelle places her bag on the ground and the to-go cup of her drink on the table. I follow suit and set my backpack securely between my feet, hooking my foot through a strap, just in case. Not risking it disappearing again.

“You look fantastic,” she comments, and I mentally high-five myself for doing a good job with my makeup.

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