Chapter 39
Millie
Abby’s getting ready for fight night, rushing between bed, wardrobe, and bathroom the way she always does.
Three outfits are laid out, two pairs of shoes wait on the floor, and a curling iron is creating a potential fire hazard atop her bookstack.
Normally, I listen to heavier music, but coupled with Abby’s frantic movements, the upbeat track’s quite entertaining. I sit on my bed, sketchbook in my lap, Creed’s tattoo design staring back.
“Blue or green?” Abby holds two tops for me to judge.
“Blue, it makes your eyes pop.”
She beams at me, tossing the green top aside. “Blue it is.” She shakes it out, taking a closer look, her face turning dreamy. “Thomas likes my eyes.”
“They are pretty,” I agree, then snap a picture of my design and close the sketchbook. “I assume it’s going well?”
It must be, considering she hasn’t spent much time in our room since she told me they’re dating. She’s only ever rushing, though, making enough time to check I’m good and tell me she is before vanishing again.
“Amazing,” she says, reaching for the curling iron. “He’s so dreamy, Millie. So different. Like genuinely different. He makes sure I eat, texts me between classes, kisses my head and tells me he’s already falling in love with me.”
I smile. “That’s sweet.”
“It’s more than sweet. It’s—okay, don’t laugh.” She points the curling iron at me. “He remembered I mentioned this little bookshop I loved when I was little. It’s not far from here and yesterday he took me for a drive and bought me sixteen books!”
“Sounds like he knows the way to your heart.”
“That he does.” She wraps a curl around the iron and sighs. “I think I’m falling too. Not just because of the books and out-of-this-world sex, but because he’s the kind of person who makes me feel interesting. Important, you know?”
“I’m happy for you, Abby. You deserve a good guy.”
“So do you,” she pipes in. “How are things with the guy who—” She jabs her fists into her sides, implying bruises. “Are you still seeing him?”
“Kind of.”
Her brow furrows. “What does that mean?”
“That it’s complicated.”
She scrunches her nose at my dismissive tone but drops the subject, focusing on her hair.
What Abby said about Thomas is kind of how I feel with Creed. When his eyes are on me, I feel important, interesting, not the broken girl everyone handles with kid gloves.
What we have is amazing and terrifying in equal measure because I don’t really know what it is. There’s no name for it and the longer we sneak around in the dark, the more I wish we could just exist in the light.
For now, we’re in limbo. Growing closer while keeping a distance. I know he wants me, it’s in every touch of his hands, every kiss, every breathless moment, but I don’t know if that’s all he wants or if, like me, he wants more.
I could ask. Demand a label, but I’m scared because I’m not sure I’d survive the wrong answer.
“Okay.” Abby drops the iron and runs her finger through her curls, shaking them out. “I’m ready. What about you?”
“I’m ready, too.”
Rolling her tongue over her top teeth, she plops down on her bed, folding her hands neatly in her lap. “Listen, I know we’re not exactly besties, but I like you, Millie. I notice things, you know? I don’t know what happened to you, but...”
She pauses, either unsure whether she should continue or expecting me to cut in.
I don’t.
“Sometimes, when you see me wearing a nice dress, you get that look in your eyes like you’re remembering different times, so...” She gets up and opens her closet. “If you want to try a different look tonight, be my guest.”
My lips part, but Abby holds her hand up, shaking her head, a smile playing across her red-stained lips. “I’ll see you later?”
Probably not, given the crowd I remember from last time, but I nod, watching her grab her jacket and leave.
Her playlist cuts off moments later and I pair my phone with the speaker, ignoring the open closet. “Frozen Lake” by VOILá starts and I drag my palms down my leggings, Dr. Quinn’s words echoing inside my skull.
I jump from the bed and rush across the room, my heart thudding a little faster as my eyes land on a dress I would’ve chosen a year ago.
Dark denim with sharp tailoring, a cinched waist, and a row of buttons down the front. It’s mid-thigh length, not too short, but more revealing than anything I’ve worn since the incident.
Pinching the hem of my sweater, I squirm. It wouldn’t hurt to try it on, right? I can take it off if I don’t like it... Yes, I can take it off. I grab the dress, fingers curling into the fabric as I enter the bathroom.
My arms break out in goosebumps once I’ve pulled the sweater over my head and stepped out of my leggings. I stare at my reflection, not far off, changing my mind. It’s scary how much damage one person can cause.
You don’t have the body type for that cut.
“Fuck you, Evan,” I spit out, shrugging the dress on and working up the buttons with trembling fingers. “You weren’t so perfect yourself.”
I smooth the seams over my waist, surprised how well the dress fits. The cinched middle pulls everything in, the skirt flaring enough to show off my legs without feeling obscene. I turn left, then right, checking every angle.
A slow smile curves my mouth. I look pretty... and immediately wonder what Creed would think.
I picture his eyes dragging over me, the way they darken when he likes something, the way his jaw tightens before he says anything. I imagine his hands at my waist, dragging me closer...
But Evan’s back.
You don’t really pull off girly.
“Yeah? Well, you don’t really pull off manly in those tight white jeans,” I rant. “Small dick and small dick energy with how you always boast about Daddy’s money and that fucking Tesla he bought you!”
The bathroom door flies open, making me jump back. Creed takes the whole damn height of the frame, his gaze cutting left and right, fists clenched harder than his teeth.
“Who were you—” He cuts himself off, taking me in inch by inch, his eyes darkening with desire.
At the same time, the line of his mouth goes razor sharp and heat flares my cheeks, gaze dropping to the floor. Maybe I don’t look as good as I thought.
“Bad girl, Millie,” he grits out, stepping forward. “You trying to get me killed?” He rakes a hand through his hair. “Fuck, baby... I don’t know whether to tell you how beautiful you look or search for whoever you were yelling at.”
“No one’s here. I was arguing with a ghost.”
“Whose ghost?”
“Evan’s. He told me I don’t have the body for fitted dresses. That I can’t pull off girly.”
Creed drags his eyes down my frame once more, even slower. “He’s an idiot, Millie. A stupid, insecure, lucky fucking boy.”
“Lucky?”
“Very.” He steps closer, his hands finding my waist. “He has no idea how lucky he is that your brother wouldn’t let me kill him.”
My mouth goes dry. I never asked how much my brother told his friends, but my pulse climbs higher and I wonder if Creed’s seen me half-naked on Evan’s bed, eyes wide and teary.
“Did you watch the videos?” I ask, staring at a speck of dirt on the floor.
“No. Hyde made me, Noah, and Dash swear we wouldn’t.
” He comes closer, his hands finding my waist. “You’re perfect, baby.
I can barely keep my hands to myself as it is and now.
..” His fingers trail down, mapping the curve of my hip, and then he spins me so I can see myself in the mirror.
“I hope your first aid kit is stocked up because you’ll need it later. ”
I take a step back, pressing myself harder against his muscular chest. “Why?”
“Look at you. Sweet, gorgeous, bad girl, Millie.” He dips his head, kissing along the curve of my neck.
“You think I can focus on beating the shit out of Felix if you’re out there, looking like this?
” He moves higher, teeth grazing my earlobe.
“All I’ll be thinking about is who else is watching you, who else I need to knock out for thinking the wrong thing. ”
“You’re being ridiculous,” I argue, a little breathless while desire beats through my veins. “You want me to change? You know... so you can focus?”
“No.” He juts his hips forward, printing his hard cock against my lower back. “But make sure no one touches you or you’ll see exactly what kind of a violent...” He kisses my neck, “...ruthless...” Another kiss, “...unhinged man you let crawl between your legs.”