9. Mallory #2
I tilted my head, pretending to consider it. “Depends,” I said. “Are you going to tell me why you were following me?”
He smirked. “Not a chance,” he whispered as he leaned in. He aligned our lips, and my eyes fluttered closed. His hot and sweet breath caressed my mouth, causing my blood to hum with excitement and anticipation.
Oh, God. He’s going to kiss me.
Someone cleared their throat, and Maddox’s eyes jerked past my shoulder, the spell between us broken. His body stiffened as he pulled away from me, and I thought he might toss me to the ground, but he groaned instead.
Mason grinned down at us. “Well, this is an unexpected sight. Smooth, brother, smooth. For a moment, I thought something hot and nefarious was going to happen, but sadly, you disappoint.”
It might have if he hadn’t interrupted. I cursed Mason silently in my head.
Or maybe I should be thanking him. Had I wanted Maddox to kiss me?
Maddox glowered. “Shut up, Mas. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Mason folded his arms. “Enlighten me? I’m all ears.”
“I bet you are,” Maddox grumbled, his hands flanking either side of my hips as he basically lifted me off him, setting me on my feet before he stood.
Disappointment didn’t begin to describe what was happening inside me, and it grew as Maddox created more distance between us.
I hated that I noticed. Hated even more that a part of me had wanted to see what would have happened if we hadn’t been interrupted.
What would Maddox Corvo’s lips taste like? Feel like?
I brushed dirt and grass from my hands. “I was just showing your brother that not all girls are helpless.”
Mason’s sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, revealing forearms corded with muscle and decorated with tattoos.
“I caught the tail end of his demise. Impressive, but perhaps it was luck. You caught him off guard. What happens when your opponent knows what you’re capable of?
Could you still take them down, Freckles? ”
I couldn’t possibly turn down the opportunity to wipe the smug smirk off Mason’s mouth. “Why don’t you find out?”
Maddox chuckled. “Yeah, Mas. Give it a try. I’d like to see you flat on your back.” Somehow, his confidence in me boosted my boldness.
Mason arched his brows at me. “What do you say, Freckles? Want to give the fun twin a try?”
I crooked my finger at him.
Taking down Mason was easier than Maddox had been. I didn’t waste time or savor the hard lines of his body but went straight in for the kill, figuratively, not literally.
I wasn’t my mother.
So I kept reminding myself.
When Mason was lying flat on his back, the idiot burst out laughing. Straddling Maddox had been a conscious choice, an unnecessary one, and I didn’t give Mason the same close contact treatment simply because I had no desire to.
I loomed over him, smiling. “Was that fun?”
His light-green eyes sparkled under the canopy of trees. “You have no idea how much. Want to do it again?”
“We don’t have time.” Maddox scowled, giving his twin a hand and hauling him to his feet. “We’re going to have to bust ass as it is to make it back in time.”
Mason shook out his dark hair, pieces of broken leaves twirling to the forest floor. “What were you doing out here anyway? Besides apparently waiting to assault people?”
“I could ask you the same thing?” I countered.
“Coach has us doing conditioning, which includes two-mile runs. You didn’t answer my question, Freckles.”
My bullshit meter was tingling despite them actually being in comfy sweats and tees. Their attire wasn’t cut out for kidnapping girls in the woods. Shrugging, I responded, “Yoga.”
Maddox blinked once, processing. “In the woods?”
“What? You’ve never seen anyone do yoga outside?”
“Only soccer moms with nothing better to do while their rugrats are in school,” Mason retorted.
Offended, I snorted. “Are you comparing me to a soccer mom?”
Mason flashed his dimples. “If the spandex fits.”
I rolled my eyes.
Maddox casually hit his twin on the shoulder, gaining his attention. “We should go before Coach curses us out for being the last ones to practice.”
“Thanks for the lesson, Freckles.” Mason winked. “I’ll be sure to return the favor.”
“Can’t wait,” I muttered, watching the two of them take off in the opposite direction I was going. When they got to the path, they broke out into a jog, and I stood in the clearing, watching their forms until the trees swallowed them up.
I kicked off my shoes at the door, leaving them in a heap, and padded upstairs in my bare feet, the hardwood cool and smooth, past the spare bedroom we’d shoved full of things we didn’t know what to do with yet and into my room, where cardboard boxes had finally been replaced by actual furniture.
I flipped on my lamp, one of our thrift store finds. Warm yellow light spilled across my desk, my bookshelf, and my bed, no longer inflatable but a real mattress on a frame with sheets that smelled like lavender.
Crawling into bed with my laptop, I propped pillows behind my back, pulling my deep green comforter up over my legs before opening my computer and waiting for it to wake from sleep mode.
I put on a movie, ready to rot the rest of the day in bed.
I was halfway through New Moon, my least favorite Twilight movie, when my computer dinged with a notification. A message from ToxicCharm.
I didn’t have many friends in this world outside of Mom. Well, any really, except for ToxicCharm. That was her username. We’d never met, and if we hadn’t video chatted over the years, she could have easily been a fifty-year-old man, but my mom taught me to be smarter than that.
Keegan was her actual name. Keegan Shaw, and we met in an online forum.
She was seventeen, like me, with shoulder-length auburn hair she usually wore in a messy bun and freckles across her nose.
She was an army brat kid, and it turned out we had a lot in common, things I could talk about with her that I couldn’t with anyone else.
It was more than the moving constantly that connected us.
She was also raised by a single mom. Both her parents were in the military, but her father died in combat when she was young.
We often talked about death. Not in a morbid way. Well, maybe a little morbid.
And life. And everything in between. The messy parts. The complicated parts. The parts that didn’t fit into neat boxes or Instagram captions.
She was easy to talk to in a way I’d never been with anyone else.
Maybe because we’d never met in person. There was safety in distance.
We talked about meeting, always in the future, as in a someday-wouldn’t-that-be-crazy-to-finally-meet way, but I wasn’t sure either one of us actually wanted that someday to happen because meeting would make us real.
And I didn’t want to risk losing the one person who actually knew me.
I logged into the messaging app we used, the one that promised end-to-end encryption and disappearing messages if we wanted them. Her chat popped up instantly, two messages sent in quick succession.
ToxicCharm: Where have you been?
ToxicCharm: I thought you got kidnapped.
Not funny and not an impossible assumption considering what I learned about Elmwood.
Me: Sorry. Been knee-deep in boxes for weeks. Can finally see the floor.
I watched the typing dots appear immediately.
ToxicCharm: Oh, right. The big move. I totally spaced. How’s the new house?
I stared at my room for a second.
Me: It’s cute.
Me: And I never want to leave.
ToxicCharm: That attached already?
Me: And it has NOTHING to do with a boy.
Keegan was boy-crazy, and I smiled as the typing dots appeared instantly, faster than before, and I could practically hear her excited squeal through the screen.
ToxicCharm: EXCUSE ME???
ToxicCharm: You met someone????
ToxicCharm: Holy shit.
ToxicCharm: I’m jealous.
The boys on the base where Keegan and her mother were currently stationed were lacking for better words.
Me: There’s no reason to be. Nothing happened.
ToxicCharm: But you WANT something to.