Chapter 18 #2
Elliot leans closer, eyes dark with something unreadable. “Because you walk into every room like you own the whole goddamn university.”
That steals my breath for a second. He seems to be good at that. “I mean, you know the name of the library.”
He smiles broadly. “I do, Miss Cardell. And on the board. And parts of the city.”
My stomach drops for a moment, thinking of his intentions. Have I been played? Am I walking into a trap?
“No,” he says, voice lower now. “I don’t give a shit about your family name. I just wanted to watch what happened to anyone who tried to take power away from you.”
A laugh tumbles out of me, caught somewhere between nerves and thrill. “So you’re into chaos.”
“I’m into people who know they’re on fire but don’t put themselves out.”
The air shifts. Much softer and warmer. This could be dangerous. Not only is the sexual tension fuming between us, but I’m being drawn into who he is.
It seems like he’s studied me in ways I haven’t noticed until now. Why is it that I never saw him until last week? Have I been so blind that Hunter was the only thing that occupied my mind?
Yes. That and becoming his appointed.
What an idiot I’ve been. I’ve failed to see the forest through the trees.
Letting the silence settle, I sip my beer. “What about you? What’s your damage?”
He snorts. “Wow. Straight for the trauma round.”
“I figure it’s only fair. You’ve seemingly analyzed half of my personality profile by now. I know nothing about you except your sarcasm and your suspiciously strong forearms.”
“I lift laptops,” he deadpans.
“Right. And bodies, probably.”
His smile falters, but only for a second. Just long enough for something to flicker behind his eyes.
“What were you before this?” I ask gently. “Before NU?”
His jaw works as he studies the foam in his glass. “Someone who didn’t care if he lived or died.”
I go still. That…wasn’t a joke.
But he glances up with a wry smile. “Then I met someone. And I started to care.”
His hand is on the table, fingers loose, but I see the tension coiled in the tendons. I wonder who “someone” is. I wonder if it’s me.
“Did they change you?” I whisper.
“No,” he says. “They reminded me.”
I swallow. My voice is almost too soft when I speak. “Of what?”
A long pause. Then he smiles, just slightly. “That I’m not beyond repair.” And just like that, the moment snaps. We’re both fragile, but alive. He knocks his knuckles against mine. “Anyway. Enough about me. Let’s talk about your fake crypto strategy.”
I blink. “Excuse you, Nick’s a financial prophet. We’re all just his humble disciples.”
He leans in again, this time grinning. “Sure. Just promise not to use words like ‘blockchain ecosystem’ while you’re kissing me.”
My cheeks flush. “Who says I’m kissing you?”
“You just did,” he murmurs.
I can’t even swallow my nervous laughter before the door jingles, and Hailey’s voice slices through the mood like a sequin-covered knife.
“There you are!” she calls, heels clacking across the floor. “Ashlyn swore you’d be here, but I said Olivia would never be caught dead hanging out with a civilian—and yet…” Her eyes rake over Elliot with barely concealed interest.
Sora trails behind her, arms crossed, already searching for threats like a sniper. And Ashlyn—brilliant, brutal Ashlyn, our latest pledge, already causing drama—just smirks as she settles into the booth like she owns the whole bar.
“Oh,” she says, tossing her thick light-brown hair behind her shoulder. “This must be what we’re doing now.” Her gaze scans Elliot like a hawk circling for decaying carcasses.
Hailey slides into the booth next to me before I can stop her. “You came here without telling us? Are you okay? Did you lose your phone? Are you drunk?”
“I’m fine,” I laugh, setting my drink down. “I’m just…off duty.”
Sora’s eyes narrow at Elliot. “You’re not in Greek Life,” she says plainly.
Ashlyn snorts a laugh, as if she’s trying to hold back a louder one, and Elliot shrinks away. I’ve never seen him appear so uncomfortable. Sweat beads form on his forehead.
“Liv, you were supposed to approve the bids before dinner. I have them here on my tablet, though. Just a minute.” Sora digs into her bag, still standing at the end of the table like a waiter.
I grimace at Elliot with a sympathetic face, but he’s suddenly turned extremely shy. Stiff through the shoulders.
Ashlyn stares between us like she’s doing quantitative math.
“There they are!” Hailey gasps and bounces on the end of the seat as the Nighthawks football team enters, rowdy and trailed by a string of scantily clad Sigmas, while the Omegas filing in behind try to appear as if they just happened to come in at the same time.
Some Thetas join them, including my brother Aiden.
“I thought you were with Jason,” I say with another glance over at an uncomfortable Elliot.
“Josh. Not anymore. He sucked some Iota’s toes in the dungeon on Terror Tuesday. Fucking disgusting.”
“Some people like that, Hailey,” Sora snaps, and Ashlyn’s irritating stare is yanked over to her for a momentary distraction.
“I didn’t think you had any kink in you,” Ashlyn says. Then glances over at Elliot. “But you seem to…”
“Um, I think I need to head out,” Elliot interrupts, his focus solely on me.
Shit. Maybe we don’t belong in each other’s worlds.
I bump my hip against Hailey’s. Elliot darts from his seat, forcing Ashlyn to stand. “You don’t have to get up. I’ll grab the tab,” he tells me with a small wave. With more speed than I thought he would have, he scurries over to the bar.
Ashlyn crosses her arms with a look like she just won some unspoken victory. Hailey lets me out with a huff. Sora’s face is downtrodden as I slip past her and ignore her outstretched tablet.
“I’ll come, too!” I call out at Elliot’s back. When I snag my tote bag, I give Sora an apologetic look. “I’ll go over them in more detail tomorrow, I swear.”
“Olivia…” she warns me like a mother hen.
Ashlyn tosses her fluffy hair back and smirks. “Was it something I said?”
But I don’t know how to answer her…
When Elliot exits the bar, I follow closely behind, though I’m worried he’ll shoo me away like some tainted Greek meat. Instead, his entire body relaxes.
We walk slowly, shoulder to shoulder, beneath the golden haze of a streetlamp, our breaths misting in the cold.
And then, as if in answer to my lingering worries, his hand reaches for mine. It’s warm, inviting, and caring. The way my fingers lace through his feels different.
They fit.
Yet my eyes dart toward the street cameras as we veer off the path. It’s growing dark now, and I hope that will somehow shield us from prying eyes. Eyes that could do more damage than anything.
I’ve made up my mind about what I want.
Halfway to the Omega house, I stop beneath an old ash tree. One of the few blind spots I can think of.
“Thank you,” I whisper, unsure what I’m thanking him for. The beer. The space. The way he never once tried to make me smaller. That connection and electricity between our bodies. For creating a desire in me that I haven’t had in a long time.
He turns to face me, eyebrows lifted in curiosity.
Grabbing the collar of his jacket, I push him gently, until his back hits the tree.
His breath hitches.
I don’t wait.
My mouth finds his, hungry and sure. He tastes like dark wheat and fire. For a second, his hands stay polite, but then he fists in my sweater and pulls me closer, deeper, until my heels leave the ground and all I can feel is him.
This isn’t a kiss. It’s iron sharpening iron. We’re two magnets being pulled closer until every cell in my body wants to be one with him. Instead of that frightening me, I lean in more, letting him consume me.
We fit.
When we finally break apart, our breathing comes in ragged, shallow bursts.
“Wow,” he mutters, like I stole something from him.
I blink bashfully, but full of heat. “Go on a date with me.”
His eyes flare as they flick between mine. My pussy wants him desperately. Right now.
“You sure?” he asks, voice low. I know he’s not asking if I’m sure about him. It’s what he represents. No future. No money. No approval or societal expectation. It would be fun…
I nod. “Pick me up Friday at eight p.m. Don’t be late.”