Page 107 of Wicked Minds
Once inside, we wind through mainly empty tables and along shelves piled high with textbooks until we reach the back of the building, where the private study rooms are.
“You booked a private study room?” I question, already knowing the answer, as he pulls open the door and ushers me inside.
“Yup. For the rest of the day, it’s our little sanctuary away from the world.”
He drops his backpack on an empty chair, moving to take mine when I merely stand there, too exhausted and braindead to do it myself.
As soon as he’s removed it, he’s back in front of me, hands in my hair as he tilts my face up to his. “Stay with me,” he murmurs, his jovial facade momentarily dropping as he gives me a first-hand view of the worry swirling in his chestnut hues. “I can’t lose you again.”
“I’m here,” I say aloud, knowing damn well it’s a lie. My body is present, even though my brain is a million miles away, and my spirit is buried under so much pain and trauma that I’m not sure there’s a shovel strong enough to excavate it.
“You’re not,” he counters. “Your brain has been working overtime since yesterday, trying to put as much distance between you and reality as it can. The only time you stopped running was when you were coming on my tongue.” His last sentence is a near growl before he ducks down and seals his lips over mine.
Logan’s kiss is like a gentle gust of wind, cutting through the storm raging within me. Tender, yet it carries an unwavering strength, a silent promise that everything will be okay. And for amoment, I allow myself to believe that. To fall into his reassuring comfort as the weight of my anxieties, the burden of uncertainty, all dissolve into the ether.
His kiss is a lifeline thrown to a drowning soul, and I cling to it with every ounce of my remaining strength because I’m so damn terrified of slipping beneath the surface and never reappearing.
With every firm press of his lips and warm slide of his tongue, he breathes life back into me, replacing the numbing cold in my bones with his perpetual happiness, unwavering warmth, and boundless light.
Hope replaces desolation, and for a brief moment, I believe. I believe he has the strength to hold me up. I believe I have the power to conquer my fears. I believe we can weather this storm.
“There she is,” he murmurs, pulling back to stare into my eyes, and I know he sees it too. He also knows, just as I do, that it’s a temporary fix. A Band-Aid on a gaping wound, but for now, we both ignore that, and I simply sit in the comfort he infused in me. In the knowledge that Logan is my anchor, my solace, and with him at my side, I’m capable of achieving anything.
Our moment is broken by the sound of the door opening, and Royce appears in the doorway carrying takeaway containers from the food court. His gaze immediately rests on mine, and I see a little of the tension drain from his shoulders as he takes me in, noting the residual light still lingering from Logan’s kiss.
He sets it all down on the table, the three of us taking our seats before diving in. We’re silent as we eat, and with each passing second, I feel the coldness seeping back in, a fog slithering over Logan’s warmth and extinguishing it.
When I’m done eating, I pull study materials out of my bag, keeping my focus on the notebooks in front of me as I ignore the looks Logan and Royce share.
I’m only granted a handful of minutes to stare blankly at the open page in front of me, my thoughts racing as I go back to formulating my plan before rough, calloused fingers clasp my cheeks, wrenching my face to the side.
“What are you doing?” Royce growls, anger simmering in his icy-blues.
Stunned, I blink at him before finding my voice. “Studying.”
His facial expression tightens in annoyance. “Try again.”
At a loss for words, I simply stare at him, mute.
“You’re running,” he bites out. “Hiding.”
“I am n—” He squeezes his fingers until my lips pucker, effectively shutting me up.
“Seems like you’ve forgotten one important thing,” he continues, eyes boring into mine. Leaning in, my breathing hitches, goosebumps pebbling as his warm breath tickles my neck. “You have us.”
His words are a repeat of Logan’s from yesterday. Suddenly, for a split second, I’m yanked back to my bathroom, the water beating down relentlessly as Logan’s warmth seeps into my skin, and he practically begs me to allow him to be my escape. To let him fill me with light and happiness.
A sob catches at the back of my throat. If only it was that easy.
“It is that easy,” Royce growls harshly, making me realize I voiced my protest aloud. “We’ll show you.”
Before I can question him, his lips are on mine, hard and demanding. His kiss isn’t soft and gentle like Logan’s. It doesn’t hold me together. It rips me apart. Tears me to shreds until the pieces of my soul are so scattered that I don’t have a hope of piecing them back together.
He nips at my lower lip, tongue sliding past my teeth and branding the inside of my mouth. His other hand sinks into my hair, tugging on the strands and yanking me closer until I’m halfin his lap. I melt into his claiming as he takes over my senses one by one until all I can feel, smell, and taste is him.
“That’s it, Babydoll,” he rasps against my lips. “Give yourself to me.” His lips are back on mine as I crawl onto his lap, my hands sliding up the front of his shirt, feeling the rhythmic thumping of his heart beneath my palm. “I want all of you,” he rasps, moving to kiss along my jaw as I arch into his touch, my crotch aligned with his so I can feel the truth of his words pulsing between my thighs. “Your body, your mind, your soul. Your good days and bad. Your strength and your tears.” His hand tightens in my hair, pulling my eyes to his. “Tell me I have it all.”
It’s a demand. An order. A plea. I can see in his eyes how desperately he wants all of me. Every broken and fractured piece. Every jagged edge.
