Elle
This is what it must’ve felt like to walk the plank. To know that death by drowning is only seconds away.
My plastic slides flap against the non-slip tiles as I follow the senior girls from the locker room to the edge of the Olympic-sized swimming pool. It’s still covered with its massive blue cloth that shields the lulling water. Still, I don’t look at it. I glance at the tall domed ceiling that’s letting sunlight into the enclosed space. Then I skim the empty bleachers, the beautiful pattern on the graphic tiles that looks downright Victorian. It’s stunning. Then I glance at Stassi’s ass that’s devouring her swimsuit and drawing the attention of all the senior boys who are already lined up opposite us. Then I glance at the boys themselves.
I hate the way I immediately search for Gant.
At first, it’s hard to find him as his signature undercut is shielded by the dark blue and green swim caps everyone’s wearing. But soon my eyes are drawn to his as if on a tether because, as always, he’s staring right back at me. I can’t read his expression and for once I’m dying to know what his conniving mind is thinking and I hate myself even more for it. Because I’m doing what I said I wouldn’t. I’m doing nothing.
I’m subconsciously waiting for someone else to do something.
To rescue me.
Just like I did with Mum at the pool.
Just like I did with Gant at the lake.
Just like I did in every private lesson, hanging onto every one of Gant’s instructions like a lifeline because they were if I wanted to stay at Beaulieu.
But when am I going to rescue myself?
I break the contact, looking down at my shifting feet instead.
Do something bitch.
Last week, I’d used my period and horrible cramps as an excuse to get out of class. This week, I’m still mulling over what excuse I can give Coach this time.
The problem is, how many excuses could I give before I got into serious trouble? More than two absences per class per semester earned a trip to the head office. What would I say to Ms Hiems as to why I missed an entire seven-week session of swim class?
Not much because I’d get kicked out.
My eyes flicker again to Gant.
Would he really let that happen?
NO!
We’re not relying on anyone to save us.
Think…
Think…
The acid in my stomach ripples, coils and twists like a snake down into my intestines, where it audibly gurgles. Aria throws me a curious look over her shoulder but I sidestep her, ready to approach the swim coach who’s just entered the pool house with an excuse of explosive diarrhoea. No, I’m not embarrassed in the slightest that Rin and her bitches will inevitably double over into fits. I’ve been humiliated so often at this point that I don’t care if the entire school thinks I have bubble guts.
But I don’t make it two steps before Zedd, at the coach’s command, is pushing the button that makes the pool cover retract. Once he does and I spot the first step, covered in a layer of mossy green, I slip back into position behind Stassi, thanking the heavens, because even I know algae when I see it.
“What the…” Coach begins flabbergasted, his fingers running through an immaculate head of salt and pepper hair. “Something must be off with the levels… Everything was fine last class.”
“Wasn’t that on Friday?” Zedd says. “No one’s checked it since then?”
Stassi snorts quietly. “Oh, I know who checked it.”
“Who?” Aria asks.
“All of them.” Stassi juts out her chin to where Hale, Gant and whom I assume are Bae are congested.
Why is he wearing a turtleneck rashguard? Come to think of it…he’s always wearing high collars and long sleeves, but even to swim? He’s the only one covered head to toe including his ankles.
“Why would they do that?” Aria says.
Stassi shrugs. “No idea. But I’ve known Zedd since the womb. Whenever he’s hiding something, he can’t help but smirk.”
“He’s not smirking,” Aria says, squinting back at Zedd.
“He is. You just can’t tell. Look harder.”
“Something’s wrong with the motor,” Zedd notes, inspecting it. “Looks like a part is broken.”
I can’t see the smirk either, but Stassi obviously can as she shakes her head.
“The maintenance man was just here,” Coach says. “He either messed something up or didn’t notice something was about to get messed up.”
“More than messed up,” Zedd says, getting to his feet and pulling out some mechanical pieces. “It looks completely fucked.”
“Language.”
Coach snatches the part, rolling it over in his fingers, but we don’t miss the ‘fuck’ he mumbles under his breath. “This’ll take weeks to fix. The parts are special order only.”
“So now what?” Rin asks, arms crossed.
“Ah…Take a free period. I need to deal with the manufacturer ASAP. If we can’t get it sorted before the weekend, we’ll swap swim season for squash instead.”
And just like that, Gant rescued me.
Again.
The moment fingers slip around the straps of my swimsuit and pull me under the bleachers, and away from the girls retreating to the locker room, I don’t fight it.
In fact, I lose my nerve and turn to Gant, wrapping my arms around him. I don’t want to. Heaven knows I don’t want to, but I feel like I’ll collapse if I don’t.
“Why did you wait until the second week?”
“I was giving you your chance.” At my inquisitive look, he continues. “I heard you say that you didn’t want to be a sitting duck… If you already know you’re a bird, why do you get so pissy when I call you Dove?”
I pull the swim cap off his head and sink further into his embrace, and the moment I can see his dark locks again, he becomes more familiar. He becomes Gant.
Why is just seeing him lately so comforting? I shouldn’t feel safe in his arms and yet, that’s exactly how I feel right now. Safe.
Air tingles my scalp the moment he peels my swim cap off, and threads his fingers through my French braid, loosening it.
“I had a plan,” I say lamely.
“I know. You were going to run into the locker room and vomit. I could practically hear your stomach churning from across the room.”
“It still was a plan.”
“You don’t always have to have one.”
“I do. I always do.” I think of Mum and how I always have to figure things out for us both. “It’s just me. If I don’t, who will?”
“Haven’t I always had plans for you? Even when you didn’t know it?”
“Is that supposed to comfort me?”
“It should. You have until January. The part isn’t just a special order, it’s out of stock and on backorder for three weeks. By the time they get it installed, it’ll be too close to Christmas and we’ll already be a month into Squash season. The administration will just make Coach swap the schedule. It’s not like we have a competitive swim team here, just a random club that’s more for fucking around. Beaulieu’s focus is on the arts.”
Before I can respond, he’s pulling me toward the back exit.
“Wait, my gym bag—”
“Let the cleaners throw it out. I already know you’ve packed it with those raggy panties again.”
So he had noticed. How? Had he been looking up my school skirt somehow?
Why does the thought make me tingle almost immediately?
“You can’t make it ten minutes without insulting me,” I mumble.
“What’s so awful about wanting to see you in beautiful things?” he stops pulling me and turns around to face me instead. “You’re so beautiful, and yet you insist on putting on the most dreadful things.”
You’re so beautiful…
Don’t fall for it.
“Sorry for not having a black card.” I roll my eyes. “It’s not like I have unlimited choices.”
“You didn’t before. You do now and you still won’t put them on. You say it’s a pride thing. Because you don’t want to take anything else from me, but I don’t think that’s really it. You kept the scholarship, after all.”
I’m about to protest, but he cuts me off.
“I think it’s because you don’t feel comfortable putting on things you perceive to have a higher value than you do.”
“What—”
“I saw those panties you wore beneath your skirt this morning. They weren’t your old ones, but I didn’t buy them either. The lace was cheap as fuck.”
My face blazes red. It was the pair I bought from the sex shop. “Excuse—”
“Your ass was chaffed red. French lace doesn’t do that. You wanted something better, but only if you can justify the cost. You feel comfortable wearing it because you feel like it’s on par with your worth. You don’t think you deserve panties that cost more than your old rent.”
“It’s a stupid waste.”
“Because you think you’re a waste.”
I let go of his hand and he lets me as I mull over his words.
They weren’t true.
They weren’t true…
I don’t think I’m a waste.
I just was raised not to touch things I couldn’t afford to replace. Things my clumsy fingers had no business touching in the first place. Mum and Jarett had drilled that into my head.
I couldn’t even touch the name-brand cereal in the store.
But you wouldn’t have to replace them. They were a gift.
I never got gifts. And a gift should be for something special. Like a birthday or Christmas, right? Not just because.
I hadn’t done anything to earn it. I didn’t deserve a present-
Fuck. Is he actually right?
“Why do you want to buy me things anyway? And don’t say it’s because you’re my pretty doll or any of that other bullshit..”
“Why do you think it’s bullshit?”
“Because it is.”
“But you are my pretty baby. My doll. What’s so bad about being someone that brings comfort? Someone that’s well taken care of?”
“Someone that’s put on a shelf when you get bored.” I pinch my lips shut. Why the hell did I say that?
“It’s been two years and I haven’t gotten bored of you once. Why do you think I’ll start now?”
I hate the fear swirling in my stomach.
I don’t want to care if he gets bored.
I don’t care about him at all.
He steps closer, brushing a strand back from my forehead.
“When I first got you, I thought you were porcelain. I wanted to toss you around and shatter you. Then I realised I couldn’t. You’re too soft.”
“Like a ragdoll?” I deadpan as he squeezes my softness now, running his hands along my backside.
Damn, it feels good.
“You do love your rags.”
I knock his bicep, but only I end up wincing.
“You don’t go on a shelf like porcelain dolls. You’re soft and warm and the only place I want you is tucked into my bed beneath the covers just like that night in the greenhouse.”
Don’t fall for it Clowny, I mentally chastise myself, but one look into his dark eyes and I’m already putting on the white foundation.
I look away.
Put down the blue eye shadow.
“But I’m a porcelain doll.”
My eyes snap back to him because what? Mark that as the last possible thing I’d ever expect to come out of Gant Auclair’s mouth.
“Fragile.” he goes on as we walk deeper into the forest. “I keep cracking. I don’t want to crack anymore. I’d rather be a ragdoll too.”
Gant…
“Maybe that’s why I keep holding onto you so tight. Because I want to become softer. You’re good at making me soft too. After you’ve made me so hard. After you’ve let me play with you and given me a release.”
I haven’t technically given him a release yet. Still, my ears burn, but they’re soon extinguished by the glassy water of the spring just metres away.
“Where are we going?” But I already know.
“Swimming.”
I dig my heels into the forest floor and I’m about to whip around when Gant grabs me around the waist.
“Put me down!”
“You’ve been in the spring before, remember?”
“That was different. I was trying to get to you.”
I hit him so hard in the groin that he doubles over, and I manage to scramble out of his embrace. I make it two steps before he clotheslines me around the neck. Not hard enough that I choke, but firm enough that I have no choice but to let him drag us closer to the spring.
“So you’re saying I’m more important to you than getting kicked out?”
“I- what? No, of course not!”
“So get in. You can stand, Elle, and I’m right here.”
“That scares me even more.”
“You’ve endured massive amounts of bullying to stay at Beaulieu—”
“Because of you!”
“But you won’t endure a little dip to avoid getting kicked out? Beaulieu takes its reputation that seriously and given the cost of tuition and copious amounts of donations they receive every semester, they won’t be pressed over losing one student who lied.”
“You lied on the application!”
“Especially one that isn’t a standout in any of the arts,” he says, ignoring me.
“You have an uncanny ability to make people feel even worse than before.”
“It’s the truth. You said you could save yourself, and you have no choice but to. I can’t possess your body and swim for you.”
“Something tells me you would if you could.”
“I told you there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to keep you with me. Even dragging you into the spring, but I’d rather you get in on your own, even if it takes all evening.”
I look at the water again. “More like all week.”
“All week then. I’m extremely patient.”
And so he is, because ten minutes tick by before I join him at the edge, dip my feet and grip a curved tree root for dear life.
Another five tick by before I break the silence.
“Why? Why aren’t you rushing me?”
“I can be a lot of things, but I don’t ever want to be compared to Jarett in your mind ever again.”
I glance at the water and freeze as memories of getting shoved in resurface, and swallow me whole.
Warm fingers grip my knee.
“To get out of the flashback, you have to stay in the present. Concentrate on things that can ground you. The sky. The trees. The birds. Me. Whatever makes you feel at peace. Don’t fight it.”
I gaze at his profile, taking in his words, then at him. Every eyelash, every strand tickling his forehead, the straight slope of his nose, even the shell of his ear. Then I let go of the branch and slowly dip into the water until my breasts are covered and my feet hit the bottom.
Immediately I think it’s a mistake, but before I can jump out, Gant’s sliding in beside me, his warm body pressing against mine.
“If it makes you feel better. I’ve been a lifeguard for three summers.”
I blink up at him. “You volunteered to do something good?”
“No. Beaulieu requires a few hours of community service every semester.”
“So not out of the goodness of your heart then,” I say, unsurprised. “How on brand.”
Gant steps in front of me so my view of the water behind him is blocked out. I know he senses my eyes lingering on the middle that looks like an abyss. It doesn’t matter that I know I can stand. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been in the spring before. I wasn’t thinking then. My only goal had been to get to Gant. I wasn’t a complete idiot, though. I’d seen him walk across it and the water was barely above his navel, so I knew I could stand before getting in.
Still, it’s different now.
“I did it at my parents’ country club with Zedd and Hale for two summers,” he continues, ignoring my remark.
I guess that’s how he was able to get me out of the lake.
“How did you even find this spring?” I ask, wanting to take my mind off that incident. If I keep talking, maybe I can distract myself from the fact that I’m submerged in a body of water. It doesn’t matter that I can stand. It doesn’t matter that Gant’s gripping my waist. Don’t they say you can drown in an inch of water?
“I learned about the old greenhouse from my father. So did Zedd from his. That’s how we met, actually. Zedd was convinced the old greenhouse would be his for his stay at Beaulieu. He’d brought Hale with him. Hale’s father never went to Beaulieu, or at least he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know who his father is. Bae’s father studied in Korea so he was new too. He found us when we were all squabbling over the building. Well, that’s not true. Zoi found us.”
“He’s been hiding Zoi for that long?”
Gant nods. “He said he should have the greenhouse.”
“Why?”
“Because he wanted to fix it to make it a comfortable home for Zoi on the nights when he couldn’t sneak him into the dorm.”
“What was his claim to it? I mean, you and Zedd had your father’s legacies.”
“Blackmail. He said he’d spill the beans about Zedd’s car he hides in the forest.”
Zedd hides a car in the forest? And Gant’s telling me about it?
“But then wouldn’t Zedd spill about Zoi?”“We didn’t know about Zoi at this point. He came bounding up to us mid-argument. Bae knew he was fucked then.”
“But Zedd and Stassi have the same father. He didn’t tell her about it?
“Stassi wants nothing to do with it.”
“How did étienne come into play?”
“He likes the spiders. It’s the main reason we haven’t renovated it. He doesn’t want them disturbed unless we can rehome them somewhere else.
“And you actually listened?
“Not listening to étienne will spark nightmares. You don’t see him coming. So the first year it just was left dormant, really. I’d creep inside when I was having a really bad episode. Zoi would find me. Bae would look for Zoi. That’s when Bae and étienne found out that I slept there sometimes. They never said anything, though. They knew I’d kill them if they did. Now we’re soon leaving Beaulieu and I can’t help but feel disappointed that we never fixed it. Even if we don’t get to enjoy it as much as those we leave it for.”
“But it served its purpose, creepy as it is. So who says it isn’t ‘fixed’?”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Will you leave it to Sylo then? He obviously knows about it now.”
“Sylo thought because we’re cousins, I’d consider the inheritance route.”
“Would you?”
“Us being cousins hasn’t meant much in the past. Although lately that’s been shifting.”
“Why?” Yes, I’m still trying to distract myself, but now I’m invested.
“Our mothers are sisters. They’ve been estranged since my birth. I mostly associated with the Auclairs. I never even met Sylo until Beaulieu. I didn’t meet his mother, my aunt, until the funeral. She was painfully sweet and caring. Nothing like the hardened bitch my mother said she was. Well, at least not to me anyway.”
“That’s good, isn’t it? To have a caring family member.”
“But it’s another thing I don’t understand. Just like I don’t understand why my mother wanted Jarett. You say there doesn’t have to be a reason why some things just are, but I don’t believe that’s true for my mother. She didn’t become an Auclair and a Prima ballerina without reason. She did everything for a reason.”
“So it’s hard to contend that your aunt is the opposite of what she says because you know there must be a valid reason for why she said it.”
“It’s another crack. All these unanswered questions. If I don’t get answers soon, I think I’m going to shatter.”
“Gant…”
“Why don’t you shatter? Why don’t you break?”
I swallow, contemplating it for a moment. “Because I can’t. If you shatter, Daddy will catch you. He’ll hide you away somewhere with the best care money can buy. You can completely fall apart because you have a net waiting to catch you, so there’s a possibility of healing at some point.”
“Yes, but only because I’m a last resort. His only heir.”
“It doesn’t change the fact that you’ll be caught. If I fall, that’s it. My mum would try, try to catch me, but we’d both crumple. I’ve never been able to lean on her for anything.”
“Have you told her the truth about Beaulieu? About the scholarship?”
“You mean about you being a demon deadset on making my life a living hell? No. What would it change? She’d beg me to come hide with her beneath the countertop, just like I did as a little girl. I’m sick of hiding. That’s why I stayed in the first place.”
He reaches out and touches my throat, and for one moment, I swear he’s about to squeeze it, but then his fingers settle on the tarnished ballet necklace Mum gave me.
“Why are you sentimental about that necklace then? First, you tell me that she never protected you, that she let Jarett do whatever the hell he wanted and now you’re saying she didn’t even give you comfort in the aftermath?”
“Aren’t you the one that always says your mother wasn’t this, and she wasn’t that, but she was a good mother?”
“So?” he asks, brows knitted.
“So my mother wasn’t a good mother. Or a horrible mother.”
“Then?”
“She was a mother. My mother.”
He looks incredulous. “What is a mother then? Just someone that bears a child? I’d call that a breeder.”
“I’d call your mother a lot of things, but at least I try to have some decorum.”
“What has decorum ever gotten you?”
I want to punch his stupid face, but I’m terrified of letting go of his shoulders.
Silence drifts between us just like the moving water and the wind that rustles our hair.
Gant sighs. “I just meant I wish your mother was a haven for you too. I wish you had a haven. A safe place. I did once.”
“I could’ve had one at Beaulieu.”
He visibly softens at that. “I didn’t know what I know now.”
“I doubt it would’ve changed much.”
“It’s hard to regret things when every step has given you exactly what you want.”
I swallow. I knew he was unrepentant, not sorry for anything. But here I am, still in his arms.
“We can become each other’s havens.”
“I thought you already had one in your mother.”
He smiles sadly. “I did. But all those good memories of her are warping in my mind.”
“How?”
“She’s not this vibrant being anymore. She’s a thing now. A dead thing. Mottled and rotten and bloated. Just a corpse.”
The sharp gasp that escapes my throat makes the birds roosting above us shoot skyward.
“Let’s take it easy today,” he says, clearing his throat. “Just remember, you can stand at any point in the spring, and if you don’t have faith in your legs, then have faith in me. You can hold on to me the entire time.”
And I do, gripping his shoulders for dear life.
“Let’s start by blowing bubbles.”
“Bubbles?”
“It’s an early step to get you acquainted with the water and getting your face wet.”
I look down at the water apprehensively, watching as it laps gently between our chests.
“Put your face in the water and just blow for twenty seconds.”
“I won’t be able to breathe for twenty seconds?”
“You choked on my cock for way longer. I promise you’ll be fine.”
More so to hide the redness I’m sure is creeping across my face that actual bravery, I do what I’m told.
By the time we hit the fifth set, I’m already feeling more comfortable.
“Okay now, let’s practise floating. If you inflate your lungs, you’ll float, if you don’t, you’ll sink. So take a big breath and lean on your back.”
“I think I like blowing bubbles better.”
“Be a good girl and get on your back. Spread your legs wide. It’ll help.”
“I’m sure.”
One of his hands creeps over my stomach, while the other slides across my back. Before I can grasp what he’s doing, I’m being pushed backwards.
“Wait!” I squeal. “Give me a second.”
By the two millionth second, he’s sick of waiting as he watches me take several deep breaths, as I try to inflate my lungs as he instructed. Suddenly I’m not sure how to.
But the view of the twisted tree trunks changes to that of the tree’s canopies dotted with bits of bright blue sky as I’m pushed into a horizontal position, with Gant holding the swell of my ass, and just between my shoulder blades.
“You said you wouldn’t rush me!”
“I didn’t. I merely gave you a little push. Look. You’re doing it.”
I look down at my floating legs, watching my toes point skyward. I guess I am. The water laps at my ears slowly, unnerving me a bit, but I try to ignore the sensation.
“All you have to do is relax and the water will do the rest. Don’t fight against it or it’ll claim you. Just work with it.”
I try to focus on those little patches of blue sky, but Gant blocks the view with his stupidly handsome face. Just the tick of his clenched jaw and the motion of his perfect hair falling into his perfect almond-shaped eyes is enough to make butterflies erupt in my stomach. Instinctively, I lick my dry lips at seeing his full smooth ones. Damn, they were so soft, so encouraging when he kissed me. Suddenly, all I can think about is kissing him again.
Then, I feel his hand ease away from the small of my back and immediately my hips sink below the water.
Suddenly Gant’s gone, and it’s Jarett’s face sneering down at me from the pool’s edge.
“Jarett!”
Just as quickly, Gant’s face replaces the image. Immediately he embraces me in his arms, hefting me out of the water altogether and I cling to his neck like a baby monkey.
Embarrassment swells in me as I mentally try to shake the memory away, but every time I blink, every time I hear a slosh of water, Jarett’s smug face comes zooming right back.
I feel myself grow heavier without the water’s aid, but it doesn’t feel like Gant notices as he walks us over to the massive beach towel and settles me onto his lap.
“Not Jarett, Dove. Gant,” he says soothingly, bringing me back to the present. “Jarett’s far away, unable to physically hurt you, though I know he lurks in the recesses of your brain, ready to torture you at the slightest trigger. Trust me, I know.”
I blink the water from my eyes and ask, “What sort of things does your father do? In your mind and in real life?”
“He likes to brand me,” he says after a long pause. “Scorch images into my brain that I can never get out. One of them is my mother’s corpse. He made me look at it, touch it, and take pictures of it. He told me that was her true self. Mangled and rotten and invested with worms.”
I gasp. “Gant, that’s horrible. What type of father…” I trail as he meets my gaze. Actually, I knew exactly what type of father would do that. Fathers like Jarett. “In your sleep, you kept whispering about how cold it was. Did…did you mean how cold she was?”
Is that why he isn’t touching me now? I’m touching him, but his hands are gripping the towel for dear life…
Gant nods and a smile that isn’t a smile at all creeps across his lips. “That’s the only way I see her now. I can remember the way she treated me. The way she took me away from my father constantly under the guise of educational trips across the world. But I can’t remember her physically with clarity. Only if I search for a picture of her online. One my father hasn’t managed to have scrubbed from the internet. He already destroyed all the ones in our house except one, but she’s already dead in it.”
“Fucking hell.”
“You sound like Hale.”
“Why don’t you take it down?”
“I can’t. He’s made sure of it.”
My stomach twists and turns as I try to imagine just how and why it can’t be removed.
I dry my hand as best as I can before running it along his cold jaw. We were both freezing now that we were out of the water.
“I’m sorry.”
“It has nothing to do with you.”
“I’m sorry all the same.”
Reluctantly, he lets go of the towel and holds me tighter. “Have you ever thought that all of this shit is worth it? No, not worth it. That all of this is bearable because it leads to something different. A new form of happiness, or peace?”
Before I can answer, he continues.
“I can’t find a reason for why she chose Jarett, so my brain invents one. Lately, it’s been telling me that she didn’t choose Jarett. She chose you because she knew we’d need each other.”
My heart grows five sizes too big for my chest and in his eyes, I can see vulnerability and hope and desperation and pain all swirling in those black abysses waiting for me to agree.
“I know it doesn’t make sense.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and press my chest tighter against him. I can feel his heartbeat like this, and it’s galloping wildly. “I told you before, it doesn’t have to.”
Although for me it is making sense now.
I don’t hate Gant anymore.
And I’ll leave it at that for now.
“When I say you’re my little doll, I don’t mean it because I think you’re an object.”
“Then how do you mean it?”
“You’re precious to me. Someone I always want at my side. In my bed.”
I don’t like this feeling spreading through me. This one of comfort and warmth. I don’t trust it. I don’t trust him or I didn’t. Now a shift’s happening, and I can’t let that happen. Using him to help me swim and dance is one thing. Trusting and believing him is another.
“Am I becoming someone to you?” he asks, and I can’t lie.
“Unfortunately.”
He tugs my ponytail, so I’m forced to look up at him and accept a kiss that makes my insides melt straight down into my core.
But for once, I don’t want to hop on his dick.
This feels like more than lust, and I hate it.
“Do you want to get back in?” he asks when we finally pull apart.
I shake my head no. “But I’m not ready to go yet.”
I’m not ready for you to leave me yet.
“Tell me something,” I say as my teeth begin to chatter and Gant pulls the edges of the towel up and over us like a burrito. “Anything. Anything to take our minds off of…off of everything.”
A happier, or rather a more mischievous smile replaces his solemn one.
“Do you know why Bae always wears a turtleneck under his blazer?”
I had wondered about that, but I figured it was just his fall fashion. “Because winter’s approaching and it’s getting colder?”
“He wears them all spring and all summer too. At least while he’s on campus.”
I’m intrigued now. “Why?” I ask, giddiness in my tone.
“He’s covered in tattoos. It started with one in year ten, and well now he’s a whole collage. Last year he was able to get away with just a long-sleeved shirt. Now that his neck is tatted, he’s forced to wear turtlenecks. I don’t think his family even knows. He rarely sees them.”
I gasp, trying to envision a shirtless Bae without making it obvious. The idea of it already made my stomach erupt with butterflies. Just when I thought he couldn’t get any sexier… Gant’s threat of the greenhouse springs to the forefront of my mind and I clear my throat, feigning disinterest.
“What’s the point of getting them just to cover them up then?”
“No visible tattoos are allowed on campus. Even for Swim. No one knows but us, though I’m sure others have suspected it… or eczema.”
“So, why are you telling me?”
He shrugs. “It’s the first thing that crossed my mind.”
I smile. “It’s working. Tell me something else.”
“Your eyes are pure emerald in the sunlight. There’s a tiny heart formation on your left cheek in freckles. Your hair shines copper in the sun and the tips of those wispy baby hairs around your hairline glow gold.”
I swallow.
“Your lips are the same rosy pink as your nipples and your pretty pussy too.”
My heart thunders, heat pooling between my thighs. “I meant something I don’t know.”
He leans in and kisses me. “I could kiss both for hours.”
“Something I don’t know,” I say again between kisses.
“I want you to be more than just my doll.”
“Your slave?” I quip.
But Gant never gets to tell me how much more he wants from me because padding footsteps interrupt us and I look up to see Zoi carrying two duffel bags. Mine is in his mouth and Gant’s is slung across his back.
“Bae knows best,” Gant says, rubbing Zoi’s snout and freeing him of both duffels.
With the sky darkening and the wind picking up I’m so damn cold that I can practically hear my bones rattling despite Gant’s warmth.
When he offers me his hoodie, I’m damn sure not about to say no, but I quickly change my mind when he unzips his gym bag and pulls the white jacket out. Well, it’s supposed to be white, but it’s nearly black, crawling with a fuck ton of baby spiders that makes me jump from his arms as they start to creep up his bicep. Again, one spider is one thing.
Gant, on the other hand, doesn’t seem remotely repulsed or surprised. In fact, he seems downright amused that his bag is infested with arachnids.
“étienne.”