Chapter 18
eighteen
“Your throat must be sore.”
Elliot’s emerald eyes flash to me just as I jolt from the memory of being on my knees, in the catacombs, for a masked murderer.
My mouth waters.
I don’t want to think too deeply about that.
Blinking slowly, I find his smiling face. “I’m sorry, what?”
He leans in, sunlight and cedar clinging to his skin, and murmurs low enough to brush my collarbone. “From holding back. Not telling that douche off.”
A giggle bubbles up, so sharp I have to bite it back. He’s absolutely right, though.
“But Andersen vouched for me,” Nick jumps in. “Said he’d never seen anyone as good at predicting the crypto forecast as me.”
“Oh? And what did you say?” Elliot tosses out casually, but there’s a glint in his eye that makes my stomach flip. I pretend to type something productive as Nick launches into his I-know-how-to-handle-this-guy monologue.
Nick pauses, eyes narrowing like Elliot’s a stray idiot who wandered in by accident. “I said I agreed, of course.”
Elliot murmurs, “Of course…”
Nick stretches back, slings his arm behind my chair like we’re on a date, then drops the hammer. “Rumor is, you and Hunter are officially done. Or I guess, if he’s missing, it doesn’t matter, huh? That true?”
My heart stutters. “Um. Yes. Yeah, we’re over. Haven’t talked to him in a while, either. And I don’t know where he is.”
It feels strange to say it in front of Elliot—like I’m admitting something fragile. But he just studies his laptop like it’s absorbing him.
“So, invite me to Omega’s Hallow’s Eve party next Friday. Or, better yet, come with me to Theta’s rager this weekend,” Nick says, voice smooth. “It’s about time you came home to the right fraternity.”
I can’t help it—my upper lip curls in disgust. “My brothers are in that fraternity.”
Unfazed, Nick tilts his head. “I know. Is that bad? They’re my brothers, too.”
“I think she’s not into incest, my dude,” Elliot cuts in. “But you would make some adorable cross-eyed babies with excellent crypto portfolios.”
Nick scowls but doesn’t rise to the level of an argument. He rakes a hand through his hair and stands. “Let me know. I’ll text you later. I’ve got lacrosse.”
“Uh…” I start to protest. He’s done nothing for our project, but Elliot lifts a single finger to his lips, warning me off with a small shake of his head. When he lowers it, his hand brushes against my thigh.
And lightning shoots down my leg at his touch.
Swallowing hard, I nod at Nick. “Have fun! We’ll take care of the notes.”
Once the door clicks shut behind him, the air thickens. Every breath feels like a decision. My skin hums with how near the man next to me is. Hints of being closer flash through my mind and make my thighs tighten.
Did Vanq set something loose in me that night?
He’s paid attention to my darkest desires, read them in my diaries. Knew just how to handle them.
And now, sitting beside this man, all golden-boy smiles and quiet restraint, I want to ruin him. Not slowly… Now.
My breasts jiggle with a shuddering inhale, making my low-cut V-neck shirt suddenly scandalous. Did I wear it for Elliot? Maybe. But the truth is darker than that.
If I let my desires take over, I’d straddle him on his wooden chair and grind against whatever he’s got beneath his jeans. Taste something real while my sanity crumbles beneath the guilt of everything I’ve done.
I wonder if he feels the same, but part of me also doesn’t care. Like…I want to take him. Use his body. Which is so violently wrong. Why? Because I just witnessed my boyfriend get slaughtered, then blew the guy who did it beneath the Cathedral of the Seven…
And I loved it.
So why am I awakened to sudden urges I never had before? It feels reckless. Like, I can’t control my libido anymore? It was never a problem with Hunter. But now…
Elliot must feel it, too. His Adam’s apple bobs as he stares at his computer screen, though his fingers aren’t moving. Almost as if he’s afraid to glance at me, his cheeks grow pink before he lifts his long lashes to my face.
“Wanna finish these, or pretend we did while drinking at Westmore? After Nick, I need something cold.”
I’m breathless. Does he know what his voice does to me? How my body answers like it’s starving? Guilt settles in until it heightens my arousal in an odd way. I shouldn’t be this turned on by him. He hasn’t done anything. And I was just with Vanq the other night.
“Yes,” I manage to whisper.
He smiles, thumb dragging softly over the back of my hand. It’s almost nothing. Almost innocent.
But it detonates bombs of wanton desire inside of me.
“Yes,” he echoes, quiet and amused.
But his eyes are anything but calm.
For once, there’s a silence that passes between us as we gather our things and head out, Elliot holding open every door like a gentleman.
Outside, the air is crisp—apple-sharp, the kind that kisses your skin and makes you want to press up against someone warm. A part of me aches to slide into his side, to thread my fingers through his like we belong together.
Then I remember…cameras are capturing all of this.
What will Vanq do?
“Do I stink that bad?” Elliot makes a dramatic sniff under his jacket, his easy smile tugging at the corners of his plush lips.
“Huh?”
“You took, like, five steps away from me just now. I promise I won’t strangle you.” He walks closer, boots crunching the last of the autumn leaves. “Not unless you want me to.”
Well…that thought makes me soaked between my legs. “Oh? You’re very cheeky today.”
“I’m no Nick the wordsmith, but I can’t help myself around a beautiful and intelligent woman.” With a glint in his eyes, he snorts a laugh. “That was such a fucking lie. I have zero game, Olivia. But, if you must know, I have to shoot my shot with you.”
The air leaves my lungs like I’ve been kissed in the gut. I try not to show it.
“Why is that?”
He opens the glass door to the bar, motioning me in first. “Because I can’t let you go. You’re unforgettable.”
The temperature inside my body rises by at least ten degrees. I’m speechless. That desire I had back in the library transforms into a wild, feral energy. If he asked me to hit the ground right in front of the crowd here, I would.
That single word—unforgettable—cracks open a vault in my chest. Suddenly, I’m back on stone, knees bruised, mouth aching, a stranger’s hand in my hair, and a voice whispering, “Only the strongest submit by choice.”
I shove the memory aside.
The bar is mostly empty for early afternoon, warm with amber light and lined with glass bottles that shine like secrets. My body thrums. I shouldn’t feel this alive. I shouldn’t want him like this.
“That was too much, sorry,” Elliot mutters, brushing it off.
But I can’t protest. My mouth won’t work.
Sidling up to the bar, he nods at me to beckon me closer. “What does a woman like Olivia Cardell drink?”
“I’ll have a Franziskaner on tap.”
Elliot pauses, surprised. “And I’ll have the same,” he tells the bartender. “We’ll start a tab.” That word again—we. Like we’re a unit. Like I’m his.
When the drinks arrive, frost clings to the glass and a single rivulet trails down the curve, catching light like a tear.
He leads us to a corner booth in the back, away from the handful of students trickling in.
It’s dim, the only glow coming from a blue neon beer sign that reads Everyone is Watching.
As I slide onto the vinyl seat, the surface creaks under my thighs.
I sip my beer and let it burn down my throat.
The same that was just ravaged by the masked man three nights ago.
And perhaps I’m using both men to forget the sadness overwhelming me during the press conference I had to give on Saturday.
Or the silent vigil, seeing pictures of my friend everywhere yesterday. Either way, I’ll take it.
Because being with Elliot is like being free to be who I was meant to be.
Does he understand the nuances of Greek Life? I’ve never seen a future with a guy, never even entertained one, if I couldn’t be appointed to him. Is it selfish of me to dream of riding his dick, then moving on to someone long term?
Vanq surely isn’t my appointed, either, but I swallowed his cum. Though, it was a shock that he is indeed a university student. But it made sense when I thought of it further. Probably in computer science… Is he a Beta I don’t know?
Once we settle into the back booth, Elliot stretches his legs out under the table, beer in hand, but his eyes don’t leave me.
“So.” He licks his upper lip of the froth that’s formed there before he continues. “What do you do for fun around here?”
“Fun…” I muse.
Pausing for a moment, he chuckles. “Fun. Yes, that horrid thing. Fun is wasted on those without obligation.”
My brow furrows. “I’ve said that very thing before, I think.”
“That’s exactly why I chose you for our project group,” he says, clinking his glass to mine. We both sip, but I giggle.
“I chose you, remember.”
“And please don’t forget that when you see me get tipsy. I have a tendency to spill stupid facts about things no one cares about.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Do you? I’d kind of like to hear it.”
“No. Trust me, no one does.” He smirks until I giggle some more.
“Planning to get drunk with me here?”
“Unless you want to get drunk somewhere else?”
Immediately, my mind goes to scenes with him above me, under me, sheets tangled, breaths caressing skin… I get heated all over. “Here is great.”
He nods, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a smile. “Besides, they have amazing cheese fries.”
“They do! That’s what I get when I get to come here.”
“You don’t get much free time, huh?”
Glancing around at the other students, those who don’t wear Greek letters on their sweaters, a moment of sadness settles over me. “Not really.”
His pinky brushes against the back of my hand for a moment, and I clear my throat, not wanting to dwell on poor little rich girl problems.
“Why did you agree to join my little group?” I change the subject.