Page 77 of The Pretty Savage

Fumbling with the keys in my pocket, I exhaled slowly as I started unlocking the door, relieved I didn't have to attend any of the evening classes today. Frankly, I was quite certain that even if we did have something, I wouldn't have been able to pay attention, which kinda sucked, because I actually liked the classes here.

I pulled out my phone as my hand landed on the light switch next to the door, only to jump in the spot when I saw him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Adrian sat on the edge of my bed, slouched, looking worse than ever. Dark circles around his eyes made them so much darker, while dark stubble lined his jaw, unkempt and so unlike him. His hair was in disarray, and I couldn't help but notice that he looked absolutely shattered as he sat there, looking at me with resignation in his eyes.

His lips parted, his nostrils flared, and something like relief washed over his features, as if he were happy to see me.

"Adrian, I asked you a question," I said as I shrugged off my coat, letting it fall to the ground. "What are you doing in my room?"

It pained me to see him like this, seemingly defeated, almost decimated, but I was so angry. So fucking angry and hurt that he would just disappear like that.

"I tried, Bambi," he rasped, his voice seemingly deeper than before, as if he hadn't been using it enough. "I tried to stay away. I tried leaving this place." He stood up slowly and walked toward me. "I tried erasing the taste of you from my lips. I tried forgetting the look on your face as you came." His finger wrapped around my white lock of hair, twirling it around. "I tried forgetting your scent, driving myself insane over the last few days, because all I could think about is you. All I can see is you, Bambi. All I can feel is you. Here." He pressed his hand to his chest, destroying me with the fire burning in his eyes. "You snuck in, Bambi, and I don't know how to erase the memories of you from my bloodstream."

My breath hitched as his long fingers wrapped around mine, pulling me to him. I was like a puppet—his to hold, his to manipulate—and he wrapped himself around me as if this was all he needed.

"I thought leaving this place would show me how idiotic it is to feel this way. This needy, this unhinged when it comes to you."

"We don't even know each other," I whispered as he dragged his hand over my hair, his cheek pressed against mine.

"I know," he mumbled.

"You hate me."

"I don't," he denied. "I hate the way you make me feel. Like I would die if I don't hold you even for one day. Like the world would end if you don't look at me and tease me and tell me to fuck off." I laughed at that. "I don't hate you, but I wish I did. And I know you don't hate me either."

"I—" I wanted to deny it. I wanted to tell him that every part of me hated every part of him, but I couldn't.

I was tired of all the lies, all this deceit, all these games I'd been playing. I was so fucking tired of everything I ever did and everything I was still doing, and all I wanted was to sink into the bed and have him hold me for at least one night. One simple night where I could pretend I wasn't Vega Konstantinova and he wasn't Adrian Zylla.

"It's okay," he mumbled, pulling me slowly toward the bed. "I don't need your words to see the truth, Vega. I just want to hold you tonight."

He sank onto the bed and I followed, climbing onto his lap with my legs on his sides and my arms tightly wrapped around his middle. Adrian kept running his hand over my hair, playing with it, murmuring softly, and before I could even recognize the signs, my eyes fluttered closed, the tiredness from the last couple of days catching up with me.

"I couldn't sleep without you, baby girl," he croaked. "I couldn't fucking sleep and I knew I had to get back to you."

"I couldn't sleep either," I admitted just as he fell onto his back, pulling us closer to the headboard. My boots slipped off of my feet, but I couldn't open my eyes to see what was happening. The zipper on my pants was lowered, the button undone, and as he maneuvered me on the bed, I let him take off my pants as well. They ended up somewhere in the room with a soft thud, and before long, he was wrapped around me, clinging to me, showing me without words what he needed.

I turned around, pressing my hands to his chest, and I quickly realized he was shirtless. Peeking, I saw his clothes were gone too, and the only thing he had on were boxer briefs, keeping him away from me. My head upturned, our eyes clashing, but there was none of the usual desire in them. There was no urgency in his movements, and I knew how much he needed this, because I felt the same.

I pushed my leg between his and threw my arm over his waist, loving the way he tightened his hold on me so my body was flush against his.

"Good night, Adrian." I yawned, pressing my cheek to his pecs.

"Good night, Bambi," he murmured, pressing his lips to the crown of my head.

My mind quieted down just as our breathing slowed, and before long, the darkness took over, pushing me into a dreamless slumber.

28

VEGA

I knew I was all alone even before I opened my eyes, and I fought against the disappointment that was slowly creeping in, pushing unwanted thoughts into my mind. But I couldn't stay in my bed the entire day, as much as I wanted to, and instead of wallowing in self-pity and hating myself for once again succumbing to Adrian and his whims, I got up, rubbing the sleepiness from my eyes before looking around my room.

My coat was no longer on the floor but on the chair in the corner, and as I looked down at myself, I noticed I was still in the same shirt as yesterday, without my pants.

It all felt like a dream, having him here last night, and a part of me thought I had imagined him. I spent days thinking about him and trying to figure out my own feelings, pretending his absence didn't hurt as much as it did. But if I had learned anything last night it was that I would need to either tell him the truth or get out of here.

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