Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
T he following week, I’m on cloud nine. Arkin and I can’t keep our hands off each other behind closed doors, but it’s more than just sex. Truthfully, I’ve never felt like this before with anyone. It’s blatantly obvious to me now that I’m in love. Arkin feels like home. Like I’ve finally found where I belong.
I’m exiting the classroom when Amy falls into step beside me, clutching a textbook to her chest. “Where’s Arkin?” she asks innocently, which immediately raises my hackles.
“Why would I know? I don’t keep tabs on him.”
The hallway is crowded, and as we pass a group of students, it forces her closer. “You’ve spent a lot of time together lately,” she says as her arm brushes against mine.
I come to a sudden stop. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Amy swings around, her flowery skirt flaring around her thighs. “You tell me, Zach.” Stepping closer, she slides her hand up my arm in a way that makes my skin crawl, but I keep my face neutral because Amy smells blood in water better than any shark. “I can’t help but notice things.”
“Why don’t you just spit it out.” I keep my voice down, scanning the hallway.
She plays with one of my shirt’s buttons. “Yesterday, I happened to be on my way to the library when Arkin exited the chem lab.”
As her eyes flick up to mine, I harden my jaw, not at all surprised by the cunning glint in her gaze. She’s always been a snake.
“Imagine my surprise when you walked out minutes later, doing up your buttons.” She pops open the first one with a practiced flick of her fingers, and I grab her wrist.
The hallway is too busy, so I steer her into an empty classroom before shutting the door and flipping the lock. Amy looks like the cat who got the canary.
“No one has to find out,” she says, inspecting her nails. “It’ll be our little secret.”
I arch a brow, waiting her out.
“As long as I get what I want.”
“And what do you want?” I ask.
Her heels click on the floor as she steps closer. “Isn’t it obvious? You broke up with me, Zach.” Gliding her hands up my chest and across my shoulders, she leans in to whisper in my ear. “It makes me look bad, baby. You’re the most popular boy at college, and I’m the queen here. We’re meant to be. We’re the fairytale.”
Before I fully process her words, she undoes my belt with eager fingers, a predator going in for the kill. When she dives her hand into my trousers and briefs, I choke on a grunt.
“See,” she purrs as my cock swells. “You still like me. We can make this work, baby.”
“Let me get this straight. You want to fuck me and pretend we’re a couple?”
She sinks her teeth into her lip. “You’re catching on quick.”
“And what if I say no? What will you tell them?” I grunt. “You have no proof of anything.”
“You know how persuasive I can be when I set my mind to something.”
I snatch her wrist, pulling her hand out of my briefs and shoving her away. “Spread your fucking rumors. See if I care.”
Undeterred, she steps close again. “I think you do, Zach. I think you care a lot.”
One moment she’s smirking at me like she’s the one with the upper hand. And the next, I have her grabbed by the throat. “Tell anyone what you saw, and I’ll destroy you.”
“Touchy,” she purrs, lips parted.
For a second, palpable energy courses between us. Energy that oozes hatred and dark promises of pain and destruction.
With a snarl, I toss her aside before fastening my belt. Amy leans against the wall, watching me with a devilish look in her eyes.
Once I’m done, I glare at her one final time before exiting the room.
If she thinks I’ll play her games, she can keep on dreaming because it’ll be a cold day in hell before I let her touch me again.
As I enter the hallway, I draw to a sudden stop.
Arkin is watching me across the hall.
How long has he been there? More importantly, what does he think he saw?
The door opens behind me, and Amy stops by my side with her hand on my arm. “Trouble in paradise? Aw, he looks like a sad puppy, doesn’t he?”
Then she’s gone, her heels clicking on the floor.
She’s a fucking witch. Always stirring shit.
I cross to Arkin, but he storms off.
Before I can run after him, Ryan hollers my name across the hall, and I curse as I spin away from Arkin.
“Whoa, don’t look so happy to see me,” Ryan jokes, jostling my shoulder and being rowdy as fuck. “We’re heading over to ours to play Call of Duty. You coming?”
I start to make up an excuse, but Ryan won’t take no for an answer, and before I know it, we’re exiting the building with Harrison and some other guys in tow.
“Don’t worry,” Harrison says, flashing me one of his easy grins. “We’ll be back in time to pick up your sister.”
Arkin won’t look at me on the way home. I try to talk to him after my sister exits the car in the drive, but he throws open the door and leaves without letting me explain.
Trudging inside with a raging headache, I make my way upstairs.
Arkin has his back to me when I enter, and I lean back against the door.
Seconds pass, maybe even minutes while he gazes out the window.
“It’s not what you think.” I wince the second the words leave my mouth because nothing good ever comes from that sentence starter. Arkin must agree because his shoulders hike up. “She threatened to tell everyone about us.” I fidget with the keys in my hand. “She tried to…”
Fuck, why is this so hard? I don’t want him to get the wrong idea. To think I’d go behind his back like that with my ex.
Suddenly nervous, I wet my lips. “She tried to seduce me in exchange for her silence, but I turned her down.”
He’s still staring at the gray weather outside.
“That’s it,” I whisper. “Nothing happened. I wouldn’t let it.”
An eternity passes before he finally turns around to look at me.
“You ran away before I could tell you.”
In the blink of a second, he crosses the room and grabs my face, crushing his lips to mine in a fierce kiss.
Arkin kisses me like he’s scared of letting go, as though I’ll disappear.
“I wouldn’t hurt you like that,” I promise, my hands fisted in his shirt. “You have to believe me.”
“I believe you.” The deep tenor of his unused, slightly raspy voice settles like fire sparks in my groin.
“What if she tells people?”
Arkin throws me onto the bed, climbs on top, and silences me with his hand over my mouth. Then he leans down and roams his eyes over my face. “Shut up!” he whispers, reaching for my belt.
Hours later, we sit down to eat. Mum has cooked her famous casserole. Arkin smiles knowingly at me across the table while we dig into the food. It’ll take time to get used to this happy feeling whenever I’m around him because I’ve never had something good and pure. Something that makes me look forward to waking up each morning.
Unfortunately, all good things come to an end sooner or later. As Dad clears his throat, the warmth in my chest turns to ice.
He wipes his mouth on a paper napkin, then puts it beside the plate. “We have some good news we’d like to discuss.”
Mum takes a sip of her wine, and Dad smiles at Arkin. “A permanent home has been found for you, son?—”
“A permanent home?” I blurt. “What does that mean?”
Dad glances at me disapprovingly for interrupting him. “Distant relatives of Arkin have come forward. They want him to live with them.”
“But he’s staying here with us.”
“Zach…” Mum puts her wine down. “It was only a temporary solution.”
“Only a temporary…” I mumble, unable to fully comprehend what this means. “Where is this place?”
“They live outside Dunkeld.”
I shoot up, startling my sister. “Dunkeld? Scotland? No. Fuck that! That’s hours away. Arkin stays with us.”
My parents exchange worried glances. Dad clears his throat. “Mind your language?—”
“The hell I will! What about Arkin? Have you asked him what he wants?” I turn my attention to him. “You want to stay here with us, don’t you? Tell them.”
Arkin shrinks in his chair, growing paler and smaller than I’ve ever seen him. Please, I think. Say something.
Of course, he doesn’t because his trauma stole his voice and ability to speak up. Even so, I wish he would look at me at least, and for a beat, he stares unseeingly at the table. Then he lifts his gaze, and I know he can read the devastation on my face.
Dunkeld is at least nine hours away. We can’t make that work. God only knows what that means for us.
Angry voices rise around the table as my parents begin arguing. My dad raises his voice, and Arkin visibly flinches before clamping his hands over his ears.
For a brief moment, I study him, seeing how scared he is—how traumatized—and wonder if perhaps my parents are right. Maybe it would be better for him to live with relatives. He’ll get to know them with time. They’ll make sure he gets settled. But, no, I selfishly don’t want to lose him. There’s still so much I don’t know about him, like what he endured in that house.
“Can you not see that you’re scaring him?” My voice gets lost in my parents’ shouting.
It’s not like them to fight (I can count on one hand how many arguments I’ve witnessed), but now they’re shouting so loudly that Arkin looks seconds away from a panic attack. Somehow, I need to stop this, but how?
“You always think you know what’s right for this family,” seethes Mum.
“We agreed it was a temporary solution.”
“No, YOU said that.”
“He’s an adult!” Dad snaps.
“Dad! Mum!” I shout to be heard over their arguing, but it falls on deaf ears. “Can you lower your voice for a second?”
No such luck. Dad slams his hand down on the table, rattling the cutlery. Mum flies up from her chair, accidentally tipping over her glass of wine. “You’re impossible!”
“Stop shouting!” I roar, but it’s already too late. Arkin knocks over his chair in his rush to flee the room, which finally shuts my parents up.
“Look what you did,” Mum says, the poisoned words aimed at my dad, who scoffs.
“So it’s my fault he ran out of the room because you screamed like a banshee?”
Mum levels him with a searing glare, then stands up to retrieve a hand towel to wipe up the spilled wine. Thankfully, they stop arguing after that, and I excuse myself to see Arkin, my stomach twisted up in knots.
By the time I make it upstairs, he’s huddled in the corner of his bed, so I carefully climb onto the mattress. “Hey,” I say as I settle beside him. “Are you okay?”
Such a stupid question to ask. He’s nowhere near okay—anyone can see that—but I don’t know what else to ask. All I know is that I hate seeing him scared like this.
“I’m sorry about my parents.”
With his arms around his knees, he looks broken—a bird with clipped wings. I stroke his tense back for long minutes until he eventually begins to relax. Then he swipes at his wet cheeks and attempts a weak smile, but the tears keep falling.
I get it: no one likes to appear weak. Though frankly, he’s never been stronger.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “We’ll be okay.”
Leaning into me, he cries softly on my shoulder. But I don’t know what to say or do, so I stay silent.
After a while, I interlace my fingers with his and kiss his knuckles. He wipes his cheeks, his hands trembling slightly.
“I won’t let them send you away.”
With a regretful shake of his head, he shifts onto his knees and cradles my face in his hands. His lips claim mine, soft and sweet, and I part for him, moaning as our tongues brush in a deep kiss. A kiss that makes my heart pound and my hands tremble.
“Arkin,” I plead, letting him guide me onto my back and settle his weight on top of me.
In the semi-darkness, he breaks away to catch his breath, and I immediately want his mouth back on mine. I don’t want to think. It’s overrated anyway. Let’s just be here, now, in this moment.
His nose bumps up against mine and he wets his lips, observing me closely, like he wants to memorize me beneath him.
To my relief, he presses his lips to mine again, infusing our languid kiss with more than just desire. He tastes me like he’s drowning and I’m the only thing keeping him afloat—a lifejacket he found at the last hour. With each swipe of his tongue, he breathes life into me again, and I give as good as I get, with my legs wrapped around his hips, groaning against his heated kiss.
We undress each other with trembly touches and shivering breaths. Arkin’s lips crash down on mine, hard yet soft, a heady combination of pleasure and pain, if I ever knew one. Trailing his mouth across the curve of my chin, he kisses a path down my throat and chest and then lower still until his hot mouth wraps around me.
“Fuck…” I shudder, forgetting that my parents are downstairs. Thankfully, the TV is now on in the living room.
“That feels sooo good… I love you.”
I freeze.
Did I just say that out loud? Holy shit, I said that.
Luckily, Arkin must not have heard because he keeps up his pace, blowing me until I’m delirious and ready to follow him to the ends of the earth for another second of his talented mouth on my cock. However, now I struggle to focus because of how real those words are. I love Arkin. I love him so much that the thought of him moving hours away cuts me open like a rusty blade.
Before these thoughts can consume me whole, he crawls up my body and spends the rest of the night touching me like he’s about to slip below the surface too. And eventually, we do.