Splintered Hearts

Seven

Noah

Jamie left nearly an hour ago—and is still noticeably missing—and I’m thinking about our conversation and his offer while everyone eats. A couple of other people have also left, and it’s getting late.

Where did he go?

The house is very cute, and the inside is a nice size. This could be a fresh start for me. The rent’s cheap, it’s close to Mark, and downtown’s within walking distance if I want to get a job there.

I could easily make it for a while without finding a job. It wouldn’t be ideal, but it would be possible. A wave of hope fills me.

“I love your sweater. Can I feel it?” Bri smiles. She’s gorgeous, with warm brown skin and curves in abundance. Her purple and pink ombre box braids are pulled up into cute pigtails on top of her head, and she’s wearing a tiara, naturally. It gleams under the porch lights. Her eyes have contacts that make them look like yellow cat eyes. Like Xavier, she has shimmering scales down her temples, though hers are blueish. “I’m reading this book with dragons, and I just had to do this.”

And a reader. Hello, new bestie. “It’s stunning.” I hold out my sweater and she beams. “Go ahead.”

She touches it lightly as her eyes study the cloth. “It feels so soft. Where did you get it?”

“A boutique downtown.”

“Maileen’s?”

“I think that was the name.”

“She always finds the cutest stuff. I love her store, and if you’re a frequent customer, she’ll start buying things she thinks you’ll like. She carries bigger sizes, too, that are actually cute. She’s amazing.”

“Noah.” I squeeze her hand.

“Brianna.” She inspects my face. “You have the prettiest green eyes. I have a stunning top I designed that would look great on you. It’s giving Fae Prince of the Fall Court vibes.”

“All her clothes have a huge issue.” Xavi shakes his head.

Leaning into me, she whispers. “Too much cleavage.”

“There’s such a thing?”

“That’s what I said! Next time I go out, I’m taking you with me.”

“The horror.” I laugh.

“You have no idea what you’ll be signing up for.” Xavier shakes his head, but I see the light in his eyes as he looks at her.

Boy has it bad.

“Ignore him. I do.” She sticks her tongue out at him. “Let me have your number.”

“My phone is off right now. I’m trying to get a new service. My number may change.”

“Mark has my number. Just text me when you get it back on.”

“I will.” While I’m loving this so much, I still wonder where Jamie went. I want to see him before I leave. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“That hallway in the living room. Last door on the right.”

“Thank you.” As I get up, Mark’s eyes snap to my movements. “Relax, I’m going to pee. It’s not like I’m going to suck someone’s dick in the bathroom!” I hiss.

Ignoring his glare, I walk through the sliding doors into the kitchen. It’s big enough not to feel crowded, with black appliances and baby-blue walls. It’s very Alice in Wonderland coded, which I like. The checkered black-and-white floor just sets the whole vibe off.

Walking into the connected living room, which is pretty big for such a small house, I see the hallway. There’s also a closed door, and I wonder if it’s a bedroom. Walking over to it, I knock but don’t hear a thing, and while yes, it’s a bit nosy, I open it up to find an empty bedroom.

So, Hunter’s old room.

Or maybe my new one?

Opening it up, I’m impressed. It’s cute. A queen bed is pushed up against the wall, and the only other things are a dresser and a nightstand. Mark has both at his house, so he probably chose to leave them here for Jamie. The bed, however, looks brand new, still wrapped in plastic for the new resident of this room.

Or me.

Closing the door, I head down the hall. There are two doors, and I choose the one Bri told me is the bathroom—I assume the other is Jamie’s. Then, after using the bathroom, I wash my hands and inspect the pretty big room. Much like the living room, it’s scarcely filled, but the counter is huge, with only hand soap on the wide space.

I like this all way to much.

There’s room, and the place just feels so good to be in. The vibe is right, the price is right, the roommate is more than right. It almost seems too perfect. What if Jamie didn’t mean it though? What if he was just being nice?

Ignoring my stupid thoughts and doubts, I walk down the hall. My shoes squeak. Fucking floorboards.

The door to my right swings open. “Xavier, I said leave—” Jamie stops, towering over me in the doorway. Or at least, that’s what it feels like standing next to him. Jamie’s just huge—tall, broad, and imposing. But his face softens a touch seeing me, then he glances down the hall to see if I’m alone. “What are you doing?”

“Using the little girl’s room.” Jamie’s brows furrow before he drags his tongue over his bottom lip. A flash of silver catches my attention.

And a tongue piercing!

“What are you doing in here?” I ask. Mark knew I’d want this man. “The party’s out there.”

“I just wanted some quiet.” While the party isn’t really loud, people are a lot sometimes. I get it. “Do you want to come inside?”

“Really?”

Jamie nods, turning back toward his room and leaving the door open for me. Stepping inside, I shut the door. There’s a full-sized bed pushed up against the far right wall, and a dresser with a speaker sat to the side, but what catches my attention is the narrow bookshelf sitting next to an art desk with a blank sheet of paper clipped to the top. Pencils and erasers litter the space. It’s funny seeing how messy the shelf is compared to the rest of the house—which is immaculate, almost sterile.

Okay, but the man has a bookshelf. I have to take a peek. He notices my interest. “You like to read?”

“It’s my favorite thing in the world. Can I look?”

“It’s just art books and stuff. Some graphic novels but mainly art books.” I don’t care. I just want to know a little more about him. There are a few art books on color theory and the human form.

“You’re an artist?”

“I wouldn’t say that, but I like art and drawing.”

“So... an artist.” Laughing, my attention swings back to the bookshelf. “Are these your sketchbooks?” Skimming the spines with my fingers, I grab one, pulling it out.

“Oh, no I—” Jamie rubs the back of his head. His beanie is gone now, revealing soft black hair that’s longer on top and short on the sides.

“Yours?” Jamie’s shoulders sink, looking away. “Can I look at it?” Hesitating for a moment, Jamie finally nods, moving closer as I sit on the bed. Our knees brush. Holding the book in my lap, I notice the slight insecurity on his face. “I don’t have to look.”

“It’s . . . it’s fine.”

“I’ll put it back.” Clearly he’s uncomfortable. Grabbing the elbow of his sleeve, I pull his attention to me. I’m unsure where all the air in the room has gone, but it certainly isn’t inside my lungs as I struggle to breathe. “Seriously. It’s okay.”

Jamie moves, giving me room to sit next to him. “You can look.”

“If it’s terrible, I’ll let you know. I’d never lie to you.”

That makes him laugh, the sound warm and deep. This close, I can’t help but take him in. Jamie smells like soap, and he’s removed his sweater in favor of an oversized blue shirt. His hooded eyes are locked on the notebook in my lap. His left brow is pierced. His gaze moves from the notebook to me again, and damn. Bright brown eyes with swirls of amber watch me before looking away, and his ears redden.

Jamie looks a little scary—tattoos, piercings, and a permanent scowl on his handsome face. However, there’s something shy about him. While he seems anxious as I sit with the sketchbook in my lap, there’s something else there too—an excitement almost, albeit a quiet one.

Opening the book, I’m instantly impressed.

Harsh lines fill this page. A drawing of a ballerina. It should be graceful, but the hard lines make her angry, almost hateful. I like it. Geometric shapes slash across the dancer’s tutu and tights. She’s dancing, but she isn’t happy about it. So much anger and emotion dripping from the page.

I flip to another page with an owl hiding in a tree. The drawing is simple, so different from the one before it. It’s beautiful, soft, and so lifelike that I feel like I could pet it. “There was an owl outside. I just wanted to draw it. I love animals, they’re my favorite thing to draw.”

Flipping to another page, again, it’s so different, but all of these pictures have a similar, unique style that’s all Jamie’s. A young girl smiles, her dark hair up in a messy bun. I don’t know who she is but her eyes tell me everything I need to know.

Jamie loved this girl—a lot.

The attention to detail is breathtaking. “She’s really beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Jamie says softly. There’s something sad there. An edge I caught with that simple word. Maybe a bad breakup?

Turning page after page, some of people, most of animals, and some just abstract lines and designs, I stop on the last page, frowning. It’s hard to make out what the purpose is. Everything is so harsh and dark. This one feels violent.

I jolt as Jamie takes the book from me. “That’s the last one.”

He gets up, putting the book away. “You’re very talented.” There are a couple of others on the shelf but I don’t push. “What’s with the white wall?”

The others are black. An odd decorative choice but it doesn’t make the room feel small. The big window helps with that. “I’m going to paint a mural. It was stupid for me to paint them black in the first place.”

“It looks cool. At least you have that window. It brightens the room up a bit.” Jamie sits back beside me. Cedar and spice fill the space around us. Looking down at his worn sweats, I see that they have holes in parts and are worn thin in others. “Nice pants.”

That makes a tiny grin appear on his face. “These are my comfort sweats.”

“Comfort sweats?”

“A lot of people together make me nervous. I wanted to wear something that made me feel—”

“Safe?”

Jamie’s face pinches. “Safe seems lame.”

“It’s not lame.” I understand that tenfold. I have a blanket I could not sleep without. Thankfully, I grabbed it on my way out of my old house. “Not lame.” Jamie’s eyes focus on his lap. “How old are your tattoos?”

“The random ones were first. They were practice for my friend. I started when I turned eighteen, so nearly eight years now. My snake he did when he became more confident.”

“Can I see your other arm?”

Jamie moves to my other side, pulling up his shirt sleeve. “I was his test dummy.”

“Bold.”

Jamie shrugs. “I knew he was talented. I wasn’t worried about him fucking up my arm. He just had to trust himself and get the hours in.” There’s so much happening. All of them are different yet flowing together as if they belong there. An abstract moon, a jaguar, and a gorgeous pin-up of a mechanic with her ample breasts out and wrench in hand. Daisies, an octopus, and other random tattoos cover his arms.

“Besides the blossoms, are they all black and gray?”

“Yeah, I don’t really do color tattoos.”

“Why did you color the blossoms?”

Jamie thinks a moment, something clouding his eyes again. “My adoptive sister, Xavi’s birth sister told me I should. She was right,” he says. “I have a giant one on my thigh. I can show you. I don’t mind.” He seems excited to show it to me, and life sparks behind his eyes as he talks about them. “It’s a Japanese dragon running over my hip, stopping at my knee. It was the last one I got.” Jamie takes the band of his sweats, pulling them to his knees.

His boxers cling to his skin, and it takes every ounce of fucking strength within me to ignore the outline of him under the fabric.

Turning to the side, my jaw drops. “Oh my god.” It’s so intricate and detailed. I can’t believe that people this talented exist. Every line and curve of the dragon flows against the taut muscle of his thigh, packed in with black and gray, each line so crisp it nearly pops off his leg. Smoke interweaves with the beast as it seems to move on his leg. “Holy shit.”

“I drew it, and he put his flare to it. It’s my favorite, I think, because I helped. A lot of it’s my drawing, and it’s just really cool to see it come to life.” Reaching out, I run my fingers down the lines, feeling his skin pebble.

Okay, Jamie nerding out about art is cute. “Any on your chest or back?”

Jamie pulls his pants back up over his hips. “No.”

Tension fills the air, and I don’t know what I just did to change his demeanor, but I want to take it back. Jamie sits back on his bed, a little farther from me now. What have I done? “Sorry.”

Jamie looks up, frowning. “What?”

“I didn’t mean to make you mad or uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m just overwhelmed, I think.”

“Not a social butterfly?” I laugh softly and watch the way Jamie’s eyes dance across my lips as I drag them between my teeth. Something in me sparks alive. It’s been a while since I felt need for a person , not just a hookup.

I’m not sure yet whether I want to live here, but I’m one thousand percent sure I want to kiss him. Those soft red lips just look so damn good. Just a sample. Just a taste.

It wouldn’t hurt, right?

With the way Jamie’s eyes warm on my mouth I think he might want that also. What am I supposed to do? Walk out of here? Not with the pleasure burning behind those liquid eyes.

I know it’ll only be a short time before Hunter or Mark finds me. Mark warned me, but... what’s one kiss? It’s nothing, right? Less than nothing, even.

No harm.

Right?

“Can I ask something?” Subtlety has never been my strong suit. Impatience ignites all my bad ideas, and when I want something, I go for it. Right now, that something is Jamie’s mouth on mine. That flash of silver hiding behind his teeth has my interest piqued. “Do you want to kiss me?”

“What?” Jamie snaps back like he’s been slapped.

Well, shit.

Great job, Noah.

“Oh, wow. Sorry.” My face flames, and I want to crawl into a hole. I did not read the signs right at all. I’m off my game. Standing, I’m going to plunge myself over the porch railing. “I am so sorry. You kept looking at my mouth, and I just thought... wow, okay.” Face burning, I give him a curtsy free of charge, because why the fuck not. “Unrelated, do you think your deck is high enough for me to fling myself over?”

“Noah—”

“I think if I swan dive just right, I can fall and break—” Jamie tugs my sweater, the fabric bunching in his fist.

“Wait.” I look up. God, he’s tall. Tall and gorgeous and smells so damn good, like fresh air, rain, and spice. Those warm eyes flick to mine before he nods softly, leaning down before I can register what’s happening. He slants his mouth over mine and my world explodes with color.

Oh . . .

Oh, wow.

I’m so screwed.