Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 84289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“I don’t want you to interact with him,” Oliver says suddenly, gripping my hand hard.
Everything clicks into place slowly, right in front of my eyes.
“Are you worried about me?” I ask.
“Worried you’re going to get involved with that fucking psycho again—”
“You’re worried about me,” I repeat, the idea dawning on me like it’s a completely novel concept. “Ollie.”
I lean in and kiss him, purely on instinct.
There’s no hesitation or hostility in his kiss. He relaxes against me, finally, for the first time all week, and as I kiss him I feel him exhale.
“Can’t have you dead if I want you to be my date for the parties,” he says softly as I pull back, looking him in the eye.
“Callum can’t do a fucking thing to me. But if he lays a finger on you, I will kill him. Without a second thought.”
Already, I know what I need to do.
Oliver isn’t going to like it, and that’s why I’m not going to tell him I’m doing it.
But this needs to end.
“Block Callum on every app,” I tell Oliver. “If he makes other accounts, block him on those, too. His mind will fixate on someone else eventually.”
I’ll make sure of that.
He pulls in a slow breath, looking up at the ceiling, then back at me. “I’ve been looking forward to this formal all year. I just want to have fun tomorrow.”
I slide my hands around his waist. “You’ll get to have fun.”
No one is going to ruin this event for Oliver.
14
Oliver
Oliver, scrolling through Niko’s profile, today
Username: Hercules2210
I check the app.
He hasn’t posted anything new.
On any of his profiles, including this one.
Where is he, right now?
And why do I feel like I’ve lost something that’s mine?
I look in the mirror for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.
I check my hair, then my tie. I smooth my fingers over the front of my jacket as if it’s doing anything to calm me down.
I’ve been pacing around my room glancing at my phone every minute. But I knew something was wrong when I realized that Niko was going to be late.
He’s supposed to be here.
The winter formal is starting, and Niko is well aware of that.
Yesterday he saw the messages with Callum, and today he’s been texting me all day about the formal, saying he’ll meet me in my room and we can head over to the party together.
But we’re supposed to leave in three minutes, and I haven’t heard from Niko in an hour.
He’s not in Onyx House.
I even got Sevan’s number from another Daggers guy and asked if Niko was with him, but Sevan said he hadn’t heard from Niko all day.
And a cold fear is starting to spread through my veins.
A feeling I’ve been trying to shove away with every passing minute, but now it’s overtaking me.
This is why I can’t trust him.
Can’t let him in.
Niko only cares about himself, which he made abundantly clear from the beginning.
Why would I think the winter formal would be any different?
It’s the reason I’ve kept my distance from him this week, like I’m locking myself into a cell so that I won’t hurt someone. But the only person I could hurt is me.
Keeping distant from him has been nearly impossible.
I want to delude myself into thinking I could enjoy him as my fake boyfriend and not get addicted to the feeling of touch, of having another body so close to mine. But I already know it feels too good to ignore, and I’ve used up every ounce of self control to not give in.
The fear inside me now is tipping me closer to a breaking point, though.
Where the fuck is he?
Dropping the ball, on the most important night.
Or…
Or something may have happened to him.
Something dangerous.
And that’s a panic far worse than any other.
I head down the stairs in Onyx House, my dress shoes making a little clicking sound on the steps. A few of the other guys are down in the entryway, putting on their jackets and scarves, ready to head across campus.
“Ollie,” Noah says, giving me a little salute. “Where’s your boy?”
“Ready to go,” a voice calls out from the side of the entryway.
As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I exhale.
Finally he’s there.
And it’s like a balloon finally deflates inside me.
The relief is so palpable that it’s obvious I wasn’t just worried about the formal.
I was worried about him.
Seeing him there, already dressed in a suit, I feel every thought from the past hour dissipate in my mind.
He’s in a black suit with an ice-blue tie, the color of his eyes. His hair is in a perfect windblown swoop, tousled yet intentional.
And the way the tattoo on the back of his hand comes out from under his suit sleeve…
So hot.
So fucking hot, and I was worried for nothing.
…And he isn’t my boyfriend, so stop acting like he’s here for any reason other than an act.