Page 74 of Demons in My Bed
He crossed his arms and looked down at me, his expression unreadable. “It’s easy to forget sometimes,” he said quietly, dropping my gaze. My face suddenly felt much warmer, and not from the physical activity.
My phone vibrated and I leaned over, fishing it out of my backpack. “It’s Hunt. I’m meeting him to study.” I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Fuck, I’m late.” I answered the call and quickly told Hunter I was just leaving the gym. After hanging up, I stood and started gathering my things, well aware of Slade standing right next to me.
“Here,” he said, bending down and snagging my backpack before I could. He held the arm straps out, waiting for me to turn around. What was going on here? I sighed and turned, letting him slip the straps over my shoulders.
“Thanks. For the fight and the uh, hag belp. Oh my gods, the bag help.”
Slade threw his head back and laughed, something he didn’t do often. “Wow, that was brutal, Vale. I’ll think of that moment at random times for the rest of my life and cringe for you.”
“Hey, fuck you!” I laughed and shoved his chest. He grabbed my wrists, tugging me with him as he stepped back. I found myself locked in his dark eyes, and suddenly the air felt very heavy, like it was hard to get a full breath of air into my lungs.
He released my wrists with a smile. “Good work today, Vale. See you on Thursday.” Then he just turned and walked away, leaving me confused as hell.
*****
Two days went by, and I pushed the encounter with Slade from my mind, chalking it up to dehydration. At seventeen, nearly everyone I knew was fucking or dating, or obsessed with one of the two ideas. I wasn’t interested in either of those things. Hunter had recently started dating this new girl, and I was pretty sure she was jealous of our friendship. She was constantly giving me dirty looks and texting him whenever we were hanging out or studying.
For years, the other recruits had teased us, assuming that we were in a relationship simply because we were always together, but that was ridiculous. Hunter was like a brother to me. We’d had this conversation before, laughing at the idea of us dating. Couldn’t a girl have a best friend who was a boy without having romantic feelings toward him?
Not only that, Hunter had a type, and I loved teasing him about it. The thicker the thighs and ass, the more interested he was. Swear to the stars, a big ass was like a magnet for my bestie. He always laughed me off and said something about how he’d need a woman with meat on her bones to be able to handle him. I’d usually gag and pretend to throw up in the trash can.
I pushed through the doors to the gym and immediately saw Slade there, wrapping up his knuckles. He was shirtless, and it bothered me that I looked a little bit longer than I ever had before.
“Hey, hope you’re ready to eat the mat!” I shouted, announcing myself and trying to replace the tension I was feeling with shit talking.
He turned and lifted a dark brow. “Are you giving yourself a pep talk, Vale? Because you should know by now I don’t eat mat. Ever.”
“First time for everything, Porcino,” I sang back to him, slipping on my gloves.
We never used our powers or any magic during these training sessions. With advancements being made daily from humans who were scared of the magical community, we needed to be able to fight without them, on the off chance that we were ever disabled magically during a fight. Before graduating and being allowed into the field, we’d all have to pass mock missions where the instructors would literally use whatever newfangled shit the humans had come up with to disarm us.
There were separate classes that were nothing but magical fighting tactics, but Slade didn’t teach those and I was already advanced with those lessons. My affinity really didn’t help me much when it came to fighting anyway, but learning basic spells and blocking techniques were still important.
We hopped into the ring, and an hour later, I was well and truly exhausted. Slade looked like he was barely sweating.
“How do you do that?” I panted, scowling at his ability to look so put together after the fighting we just did.
He took a big drink of water. “Do what?” My water bottle was sitting next to him, so he picked it up and brought it over, holding it out to me.
“Look like”—I waved my hand at his body—“that.”
He laughed, and I tried to ignore the way my lower belly fluttered at the sound. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult?”
I rolled my eyes and downed some water. “It’s just, I feel and look like a drowned rat, yet you look like you’re ready to go out to dinner or something.”
“Well, I don’t usually go to dinner shirtless,” he teased, leaning against the wall.
“Me either.” My eyes bugged out as I processed my words. “I mean, of course I don’t. Do that. Shirtless. Most things I do while wearing a shirt is what I meant.”
His eyes twinkled. “I know what you meant. Do these sports bras count as shirts, though?” Slade reached out and plucked the strap of my blue bra, which was the only thing I was wearing as far as a top was concerned.
“Yes,” I squeaked and cleared my throat. “They do count.”
Slade hummed. “Are you hungry?”
“What?”
“Well, you mentioned dinner and it is getting late. I’m hungry. Are you?”
