Page 53 of Crown of Thorns
“Hmm…I can feel it.”
“Feel it, huh?”
“Yup.” She clicks her tongue at my move, retreating one of her own pieces. “You’re…I don’t know. Distracted?”
“Distracted,” I huff, shaking my head in amusement, hoping that she’ll buy my nonexistent poker face. She doesn’t.
“Does it have to do with Louis?” Her gaze narrows as she takes me in. “You’ve been different ever since that day he showed up at our house, used the shower, then vanished into that ridiculous car of his, remember?”
“Of course not.” My face heats, the memory of Louis’s mouth on my skin flashing hot behind my eyes.
“Does it bother you that we text each other?”
Oh... I shake my head. I didn’t know that. How come I didn’t know that? It’s been days since I fucked him against my desk. Shame and regret have been my constant companions since. Because I should have checked to see if he was alright after he’d left my office, right? He’s still sending messages. Hourly. Sometimes more. I respond with one-word replies and pretend it doesn’t matter. It does. But then, you never know.
I force a smile. “Of course, that doesn’t bother me.” But it’s…I don’t like it, I think, though I shouldn’t care. I let out a forced chuckle. My sister has been fangirling over the students attending this college ever since I walked back into her life, and now she has finally met one.
“He’s been asking about you, you know.”
Oh. “Let’s just focus on the game, shall we? I promise nothing’s up. I’m good, and I’m not bothered by your friendship.”
“He was asking if you were dating someone.” No. I’m only sleeping with him.
I huff. “That’s inappropriate to ask, and he knows it.”
“Perhaps, but you should see your face.” Melo’s lips twitch, but there’s a glint in her eye that’s more curious than playful.
“Melo…”
“I’m just kidding.” She leans back, chin propped on her hand, studying me like one of her paintings. “He didn’t ask about yourdating life. But like I said, something’s definitely up with you. You look guilty as charged.”
Perhaps I am. Because now I want to know what the hell they discuss if it isn’t my dating life. Does he flirt with her, too? Does he touch her with words the way he does me?
Stop it.
“Well, he might be fun to you, but to me, he is a student. Like I have over fifty others. Students.”
“Really. Well, perhaps you should remind him of that. He’s been refurbishing our home.”
“What?” The knight clatters onto the board, making other pawns tumble. I scramble to put them back in their respective places. “I told him to stop interfering with my life. He did the same thing to my office and to my bedroom, and…and…”
Melo grins, her emerald eyes glimmering with mischief. She lifts a brow, savouring the moment like a well-plated dessert. “Gotcha.”
“Wait, what? Were you selling me bullshit? Again?”
“Yup.” She laughs, tossing her hair off her shoulder with dramatic flair. “And you fell for it. Again.” She moves her knight with exaggerated elegance. “Checkmate, brother.”
“You distracted me.”
“And you’re a bad loser. But since I’m such a sport, I will leave the subject for now. If you come and see my next exhibition. No excuses. It’s only a small one, but I’d like you to be there. Pretty please?”
“You don’t need to force me into that. I’d love to.”
“Yay!” She puts on her coat and wraps a colourful scarf around her neck, before taking me into a bear hug. My sister is petite, with a delicate face and soft features, but her hug is fierce. She leaves a big kiss on my cheek. “Take care of yourself, brother. I’m here for you, you know that. Whatever. Whenever. Always here.”
“Thank you, sis.” I press a kiss to her forehead. How I have missed her all these years.
After waving her off, I head back to my office and settle in for a few hours of work. I finalized the paper I started working on over Christmas. It started as a quiet attempt to make sense of power. It's my own way of peeling back the layers of privilege these men wrap themselves in. Not an academic paper, not really. More like a manifesto stitched in footnotes. The deeper I dig, the more it feels like I’m brushing against something raw and real. Like I’m sketching the bones of a monster no one else wants to name.
