Page 13 of Tell Me Why
She shrugs. “I know they have their issues, but they do a lot of good, too. Plus, I didn’t want you to be here all alone.”
I know it’s just an excuse she’s throwing out there, but if I’m being honest, I’m selfishly glad she’s here. Because she’s right, navigating all this alone for the next three months would have sucked.
And, to be fair, she fits in here. She’s thin with perky boobs, beautiful. Unlike me. I’m the complete opposite of a Burning Crowndebutante—I think they call them “Debs” for short. Most of the female members fit a certain aesthetic. Thin. Long blond hair. I cringe at the idea of stereotyping other women, but facts are facts.
“Thanks,” I say, flashing her a smile. “I’m glad you’re here. Really.”
She lets out a long breath, and her shoulders relax. “Thank God,” she says, then blinks and glances around. “So I guess they accepted your proposal?”
“Yup. Hook, line, and sinker…”
She smiles playfully. “See, I told you. I knew they’d accept. Guys are idiots.”
“Preach,” I say with a laugh.
God, itisgood to have her here.
“So…” She glances around, confused. “Why are you just randomly standing in the kitchen?”
Oh, right. I almost forgot why I was in here. “Christian told me to make sandwiches, but there’s no food in the cupboards or in the fridge. I’m starting to think he’s playing some kind of head game with me.”
“No food? With a house full of guys?” She walks to the cupboards and opens them all, then checks the fridge. As I said, empty. “Wow, you’re right.” She thinks for a minute. “I could pop over to the campus market and grab a couple of things, if you want. I don’t have class for another couple of hours.”
I perk up at that. “Oh, would you? I have money—” I say.
She waves me off, already moving toward the back door. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be right back.”
When Skye returns fifteen minutes later, she’s carrying three overstuffed reusable bags. “I wasn’t sure what you needed, so I just got a bunch of stuff.”
She unloads the groceries one by one: chips, lettuce, tomato, bread, milk, two different kinds of lunch meat, and cheese.
I throw my arms around her neck and give her an awkward hug. “You’re a godsend.”
“No worries,” she says, folding the bags up and putting them in the cupboard. “We look out for each other, right?”
“You’d better get out of here before someone sees you helping me,” I say.
If the Sacred Sons know Skye is my friend, then they might try to keep her away from me—which would suck so hard.
“Okay,” she whispers. “Good luck.”
When she leaves, I make the sandwiches quickly, then cut them into little squares and arrange them artistically on one large plate. I’ve been gone for longer than half an hour, and I’m nervous one of them will come looking for me, so I hustle down the hallway to the study, pushing the door open.
The guys aren’t in here.
The study is empty.
Um…? Where’d they go?
I’m about to go searching for them when I remember I’m wearing the sweater. I bristle at the thought of going topless again, but I don’t want to get in trouble, either, so I set the plate down, pull the sweater off quickly, and toss it in the corner by the door. Then I pick the plate back up and step out of the room.
Laughter trickles down the hallway, and I move toward it. It’s coming from behind a closed door. Swallowing, I reach out with my free hand and pull it open.
It’s a living room, and it’s more modern than the rest of the house. It’s huge with a large couch, a television, and a pool table. It’s like a frat boy’s wet dream in here. There are about two dozen people in here—guysandgirls—lounging, shooting pool, playing video games. I spot Skye, sitting on the couch next to a guy, his hand resting on her bare knee.
I pause in the doorway, and everyone goes silent, turning to look at me.
“There she is,” Christian says jovially, piercing the long stretch of silence. He’s lounging on the couch, looking at me with a lazy smile as some girl kisses her way down his chest. Blinking, I pull my gaze away quickly.
