Page 10 of Missing

Irapped a quick staccato on Griffin's door, the sound echoing down the dimly lit corridor. Dante was practically vibrating next to me, his energy as infectious as it was relentless.

"Come on, Griff!" he called out, his voice a mix of impatience and excitement. "We're wasting valuable eye-candy time here!"

The door swung open, revealing Griffin's unamused face. He raised an eyebrow at Dante's antics but stepped aside, letting us into his domain briefly before we all filed out together. The air in the hallway felt charged, like the static before a storm—Dante's restlessness was the kindling.

"Seriously, Dante," I said as we descended the stairs, the sounds from the food hall rising to meet us like the klaxon call of the mundane. "You're acting like you've never seen a girl before."

He shot me a sidelong glance, brown eyes alight with mischief. "Not just any girl, O. The new girl. Word is, she's a stunner."

Rolling my eyes, I kept pace with his swift strides. Dante always had this way about him, a pull that could drag you headfirst into chaos if you weren't careful. And damn if I didn't find myself getting sucked into his orbit time and again.

"Chill, man," I advised, though I knew my words were as effective as throwing feathers at a brick wall. "Let's not scare her off on her first day."

"Who said anything about scaring?" Dante grinned, running a hand through his short brown hair. It was the grin that got you—the one that said he was trouble, the best kind, and you'd be a fool not to play along.

"Besides," he continued, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a boxer gearing up for the first round, "you're curious too. Don't deny it."

"Curiosity killed the cat," I muttered, but there was no heat in it. Truth was, the halls had been buzzing all morning with whispers of the mysterious new addition to our little slice of paradise.

"Good thing I'm more of a dog person then," Dante quipped, pushing through the double doors into the cacophony of the food hall.

"Slow down, Casanova," I warned, my voice barely cutting through the din of clattering trays and boisterous laughter. The last thing we needed was for Dante to make a spectacle and spook the girl.

The moment we stepped into the hall, it was like walking onto the set of some twisted soap opera. Jessica, Yasmin, and Olivia were storming away from our usual table, their faces contorted with the kind of rage that could curdle milk. Their eyes blazed with the heat of a thousand suns, shooting daggers at anyone unfortunate enough to make eye contact.

"Christ," I muttered under my breath, watching the trio's retreating figures like they were feral cats on the prowl. "Looks like someone pissed in their Cheerios."

Dante chuckled beside me but said nothing, his earlier excitement dimmed by the obvious tension in the air. Griffin, raised an eyebrow as if daring the universe to throw more drama his way.

"Yo, Griffin," I said, nodding toward the scene of the crime. "What do you think happened?"

Griffin shrugged, his broad shoulders lifting in a nonchalant gesture that belied the sharp intelligence in his blue eyes. "With those three? Could be anything from a stolen lipstick to full-on mutiny."

We slid into our seats, the atmosphere crackling with the leftover static of whatever showdown had just gone down. My gaze flicked over to the left, and there she was—the reason for Dante's puppy-dog excitement. She sat with Melody, who seemed to be easing her into the chaos of Oakland Harbour with the patience of a saint.

"Shit," I thought, an image of my dick sliding down her throat flashing through my mind, raw and primal. The new girl was definitely beautiful—no denying that. Her presence was like a live wire, silently charging the space around her. But damn, did my brain have to go there first?

"Melody seems to be handling the newbie okay," Griffin observed, his voice pulling me back from the edge of my own inappropriate thoughts.

"Looks like it," I agreed, forcing my attention away from the girl and onto the menu in my hands. It was better to focus on the greasy offerings than on the way my body was reacting to a stranger I hadn't even spoken to yet.

Her beauty arrested my mind, the sort of allure that made you feel like someone had just punched you hard in the gut. She had long black hair, cascading down her back like a waterfall at midnight, and those eyes—green as the most poisonous bottle of absinthe. Her lips were full, promising whispered secrets and silent screams, and that neck... long and slender, begging for the brush of a thumb, or maybe the graze of teeth.

"Too skinny," I mumbled under my breath, but even I didn't believe it. She was the kind of skinny that spoke of elegance, a sleekness that was all feline grace and hidden strength. My body responded with primal honesty, a surge of heat pooling low as I dropped my hands into my lap, hoping the table would shield the evidence of my interest.

"Harper, these are the guys I was telling you about," Melody's voice cut through the fog of my desire. She leaned towards the new girl, her arm sweeping out to indicate each of us in turn. "This is Griffin," she said, pointing at Grif who just nodded, his blue eyes sharp and assessing.

"Then there's Dante." She gestured towards the guy who looked like he'd been hit by a bolt of lightning and liked it. His grin was wide, with too many teeth, and too much charm.

"Enchanted," Dante practically purred, and I could almost hear the invisible tail wagging behind him.

"And this is Orlando." When she pointed at me, I shot up straighter, all senses on high alert.

"Hey," was all I managed, trying to cloak my rampant thoughts in indifference as I gave her a nod. But damn if my heart didn't trip over itself, beating a staccato rhythm against my ribs.

"Nice to meet you all," Harper's voice was soft but carried an edge that suggested she wasn't just some wilting flower. That voice curled around my insides like smoke, enigmatic and enticing.

Grabbing the menu, I pretended to scan the list of today’s specials, but the words blurred together, meaningless. My mind was too busy conjuring images of dark hair spread across white sheets, green eyes dilated with passion.

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