Page 23 of Balance
He was finally being chatty. I really didn’t want to push any buttons.
“I thought people befriended the othersintheir quintet,” I ventured. “Does everyone usually hang out with each other?”
“Quintet friendships?” Damen raised his brow, taking the bait. “No, they usually aren’t friends with everyone within their quintet, even if they feel a pull to each other. It’s actually rare for the entire quintet to be really close. It’s a family-like bond, and within families there’s always contrasting personalities.”
“What about our quintet?” I asked—no longer was this topic just for distraction.
“We’re different,” Damen responded, lips thinning. “But not entirely. Julian and I have had our differences—Titus too.”
So I hadn’t imagined Julian and Damen struggling to work together, but I hadn’t noticed Titus also struggling. “Is it always that way?”
Damen cleared his throat. When he spoke, his tone was stilted. “Not everyone in a quintet has tolikeeach other. We just need to be able to work together.”
The memory of a discussion I had in this very hall echoed through my thoughts.
Dr. Stephens had said it that time—that anyone who wanted to be friends with Finn wasstupid.
I’d been so offended on his behalf. But then I’d gotten so angry at the blonde that I hadn’t thought much on those words since, or what it meant.
“Doesanyonelike Finn?” I pressed my fingers to my lips, my heart pounding in horrible realization. This was kind of heartbreaking, and—despite my best efforts to hold on to my righteous anger—a sense of sadness for my former ex-best-friend began to stab at me. “Does even his own quintet hate him?”
Damen returned to his full height as his shoulders squared. His gaze was wary now, appraising my reaction, though I couldn’t fathom what he was waiting for.
“I’m cautious of him,” he said slowly. “But on most days, I generally don’t have a problem with him. Our relationship is complicated.”
“Nobody likes him, but it’s his own fault.” Dr. Stephens’s voice cut into our conversation. “Finn refuses to cooperate with anyone who tries to work with him, and he won’t even try to act civil most of the time.”
I’d jumped at the interruption, then peeked past Damen into Dr. Stephens’s office where he sat at his wood-stained desk. The room was smaller than I expected—much smaller than Ms. Protean’s office—and so we’d been standing near him the whole time.
I hadn’t even noticed. Heat burned at my cheeks in embarrassment.
“Are you planning to stand outside my office and gossip about Finn Abernathy all day?” Dr. Stephens rested his chin on his linked fingers, shooting the two of us a disapproving glare. “I do have research papers to grade. Mr. Damen,”—he turned his attention to the copper-haired man, pushing a stack of salmon-colored papers to the edge of the desk with his elbow—“I need you to deliver these to the registrar.”
“I’m sorry to bother you when you’re working,” I almost whispered, glancing up at Damen. “But I brought you a coffee.”
“Thank you.” He grinned at me, his serious expression fading and, before I could protest, he raised the drink to his lips and basically chugged it.
I gaped at him, disbelief rendering me speechless.
First of all, he had grabbed thewrong drink.Secondly, what was this uncivilized manner of drinking coffee?
“What’s wrong, baby girl?” Damen lowered the now empty cup. “Are you hungry?” He touched my shoulder. “I’ll be finished here soon, and then I’ll take you out to eat.”
I wasn’t sure if it was safe to believe him. My hopes had been dashed so many times.
Good food was basically a memory at this point. With Miles gone, it was a wonder I hadn’t starved to death. He seemed to be the only one capable of shopping for food we’d survive on long-term. Titus only contributed beef jerky to the hoard, and Julian had his salads.
Damen, on the other hand, really seemed to enjoy Red Bull.
“Iwilltake you out to eat,” he said, tugging on my ponytail as his gaze heated, traveling down my form. “You’re too cute not to show off anymore. I’ll just run this errand and we’ll leave.”
I turned my narrowed gaze to Dr. Stephens, the man who was currently standing in the way of me and food. Dr. Stephens didn’t even flinch under my accusing stare.
Didn’t he have any other minions to do his bidding? Wasn’t he highly regarded in an important position? He had terrible delegation skills if he had to resort to using Damen for such trivial matters.
If Damen had to choose between obedience to me or his mentor, who would win? Dr. Stephens held my gaze, and I could have sworn I’d seen a sparkle of amusement in his eyes.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
