Chapter 3 #3
My foot meets empty air, and my arms thrash as my head and spine do their best to leap sideways out of my skin.
I gasp just as an arm wraps around my waist and yanks me against an iron chest. The wind is knocked out of me.
My face is squashed into a shoulder, and I suck in a deep breath—of Ezra.
Fresh pine and a faint hint of ash, arousing and soothing at the same time.
I can’t seem to move. My eyes close as I let my body relax against his for a moment, feet dangling.
I’m so glad I forgot my jacket in the bathroom, since the few layers separating us are already annoying.
He shifts us until my back meets the wall.
He isn’t letting me go, and I don’t want him to.
There’s a perfect spot between his collar and shoulder that fits my cheek beautifully.
Pushing away my regrets for later, I rub my face right there, and I feel his long fingers flex against my waist.
With great effort, I lift my head, and the strong column of his throat fills my vision. I blink and put both hands up without thinking. They land on his chest, and my fingers experience his body warmth for the first time.
“Little Chick,” Ezra says softly, very close to my ear. His breath ruffles my hair and my insides.
What did he call me?
I tip my head back, and it hits the wall, while I keep looking up into Ezra’s serious face. It’s only inches from mine. No sunglasses. At this distance, his eyes aren’t as dark as I thought. There’s more amber than green, and the irises are encircled by a black line that contains all the colors.
He. Is. Magnificent. Not in a pretty way, but full-on hotness and masculine gorgeousness.
It’s as if someone has tailored everything about Ezra to my exact tastes.
His warm golden skin makes my mouth salivate, tongue ready to taste.
But his jaw is clenching again. Now that I think about it, I seem to have this effect on him—a negative one.
That’s why I push away the crazy urge to reach up and caress the light fawn stubble covering his cheek.
His arm is still around me, strong and steady. Perhaps he thinks that if he were to let me go, I’d trip over my very own two feet—very possible. Even more at this moment when my brain has stopped functioning and a fire has built in my belly, turning the butterflies into bloodthirsty bats.
I falter when I hear him growl, low and deep. Eyes laser-focused on my face like he’s trying to read my thoughts—all embarrassing ones. I can’t help it. He stamped himself on my mind’s eye from the very first moment. And thinking about moments, can this please last forever?
“You hurt?” he asks me, his voice dips to a rumbling tone that rushes right down to my groin. He’s still unmoving. Brows pulled together. Molten gaze implacably on me. Right now he’s more like a guard dog than a wolf.
I shake my head and give a little smile. “I’m fine. I-I’m sorry I’m such a klutz, I…” I can’t think with him so close. A moment to take a breather is urgently needed, but when I push against his hard, strong pecs, he doesn’t budge.
“Be more careful.” His voice vibrates deliciously through my torso where it presses against his. That plump mouth is just a breath away from mine, so close…
I press my lips together and quickly tear my eyes away from him, lowering them down and away from temptation.
I can see the vein in the side of his neck pulsing now.
I can’t take his nearness anymore, his touch, his warmth is too much—my dick is going rogue.
Being surrounded by Ezra’s bigger body creates prickles of sweat down my spine and blazing flames all over my shivering body. I feel his fingers twitching on my hip.
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asks in an almost-snarl that never fails to make my traitorous dick take notice.
“No!” I exclaim too hurriedly, too loudly, jerking my head up to look at his face. “It’s in my wheelhouse.” What the hell did I just say? Blabbering like an idiot while he looks all unfazed and in control. Dauntless. “How do you hide all your thoughts?”
He frowns. Fuck! I said that out loud.
“I mean, your face doesn’t give any of your emotions away. How do you do that? I’d like to learn.”
His half-lidded eyes are darkly fixed on me like an amused predator studying a possible prey. They lock me in place—those and his unyielding body.
After a moment’s hesitation, he slides his arm out from behind me, my feet touch the floor again, and he takes only one step back. Space between us is what I need, but it’s not what I want.
“What happened to your shoulder?”
My anxiety ramps up a notch. How does he know about the little ache I still feel after the car mishap with Ren? Did I wince while I was in his arms?
“I walked into a tree.” It’s not so far from the truth. I’m a fucking liability for everybody around me. “Sorry.”
“What for?”
“For troubling you?” Maybe annoying is too strong. I confuse him. I don’t know why, but I do. It’s in every head tilt and frown, every jaw flex and grind of his teeth.
“No trouble.” His firm statement makes me gasp.
He opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but instead, he nods once.
Then he gestures for me to lead the way to the kitchen.
He follows close enough for me to feel the heat coming off his body.
I don’t quicken my stride; if anything, I slow down to continue breathing his rich scent deeply into my lungs.
“Take that when you go back to the dorm.” He points at the bag on the floor at the end of the hallway.
“What’s inside?” I ask, halting my steps.
“A mug heater,” he tells me, stopping near me.
A mug heater? I turn toward him. Did he buy it for me?
“Ezra.” As I utter his name, his nostrils flare and his eyes fall on my lips, reminding me of a hungry wolf.
Is he…? My brother’s shrill voice coming from behind me stops the words inside my throat. “What’s going on?”
I spin on my heels and nearly trip over my feet—classic me. Ezra clamps his arm around my waist again, from behind this time, plastering me to his front. The upper curve of my ass bumps into something. A bulge. A big, thick one. I don’t think my face will return to its natural paleness ever again.
My shocked eyes find Ollie’s narrowed ones. He looks pissed for some reason.
“The steaks are ready. What are you doing here?” He’s glaring but not at me.
“We were on our way out when you scared the hell out of me,” I retort a bit too strongly, but I’m trying very hard to forget about the protuberance poking my lower back. Am I sweating? I feel hot. So hot.
“Why do you keep standing there?” Ollie’s gaze falls on Ezra’s arm. I could get used to its weight, the reassuring solidity around my body.
“You are in the way.” Ezra’s tone has a hint of hostility to it.
Something must have happened between these two.
When Lori asked Ollie about his beef with the psycho, was he talking about Ezra?
Something must have definitely happened between them.
Or between Rague and Ezra perhaps? Ollie turns berserk if anybody disrespects his husband, but Rague doesn’t seem angry at him, only wary.
“I have a hell of a reason to be,” my brother hisses back.
“Hell is right,” Ezra counters back, cold as ice.
I feel like they are talking about completely different things. Before I can say anything, Rague interjects with a final, cavernous tone, “That’s enough. Let’s go eat.”
Ollie grabs my hand and pulls. For a moment, Ezra’s arm tightens around me before it falls to his side.
While my brother drags me away, I can’t help but turn my head back and give him a last look. Ezra hasn’t moved from his spot, fist clenched, muscles tense. His eyes nearly glow as they follow me until I step outside.
What the hell is going on?
I wake up with a jolt. My mouth is wide open, but no scream comes out. Shards of anxiety pierce through my chest. I look down at my hands, no blood, no bruises, no bandage. It was just a nightmare. I’m in my dorm room. I’m okay. I’m okay.
I can hear myself panting, the dark images still vivid in my head. I blindly find the tube of pills near my bed, and I swallow one hurriedly. My flickering eyes fall on the window, and I glimpse something moving outside among the leaves. A flash of white.
I fumble until I find the lamp switch on the wall.
The light blinds me for a moment. I grab my glasses and crawl on the bed until I reach the window to get a better look at the tree.
But I don’t see anything among the branches.
It’s too dark, and the foliage forms hidden shadows.
My hands grab the sill as I focus my gaze on the ground.
I’m on the third floor. It’s a long way down.
It must have been a bird. A nighthawk, perhaps?
I rescued one a couple of months ago. His wing was broken, and I took it to the animal shelter and nursed him back to health. Watching it flying away was deeply satisfying. Did he come back to say hi?
I let out a long breath and slide my glasses up to stroke my eyes, before letting them drop back down. It’s past midnight. I should go back to sleep, but I know there’s no use. Having nightmares about that day is a rare occurrence, but when it happens, I can’t stop thinking about it.
I ask Alexa to play my country music playlist as I decide to work through a list of menial tasks to kill time until morning comes.
When I’m done, I try studying, but my brain doesn’t cooperate.
My eyes keep falling on the mug heater on my nightstand and the memory of Ezra’s eyes on me.
I’m still so confused by his behavior, too tense.
I need to relax. My knee hits the side of the desk, and that’s when I remember Lori’s box, the one he snuck in when he came to visit last week.