“You don't have to apologize for running. You saw me with my hands on a bloodied knife; you had a killer staring at you from down the hall. I'm glad you ran. I'm not sure I could handle it if anything happened to you, Chuck.”
My palms are sweaty when I lift them up and lay them on Church's muscular upper arms, surprised yet again that the coffee-obsessed prince of the school is so buff beneath his uniform and cultured exterior. Pleasantly surprised, my brain reminds me, and I'm glad the lights are now off so he can't see exactly how red I'm getting.
Our mouths brush, just the slightest touch of lips, and a sea of butterflies takes off in my belly, making me feel dizzy. We can't have a full-on make out session with the other guys in the room, now can we, I tell myself, but it's hard to figure out group dating etiquette when, you know, there really isn't any available.
The hot, slick tip of Church's tongue teases along my lower lip, and I shiver, curling my fingers around his biceps. He presses further as I gently open my mouth and welcome him in; it's impossible to miss the fact that his hand is sliding ever closer to the sweet spot between my thighs.
Unfortunately, that's also the same moment that I notice movement behind Church's shoulder and glance up to see a shadow looming on the other side of the shoji screen. There's the faint outline of a person peering in at us, and my breath catches—but for completely different reasons than before.
Church stiffens up and glances over his shoulder. Before I can even think about how to handle the situation, he's pushing up to his feet and heading for the door. The person on the other side takes off as he slides the screen open.
“Wake the others up!” he hisses, and then he takes off running.
“Fuck,” I grumble, shoving up to my bare feet before using one to kick at Ranger's shoulder. “Get up, trouble!”
He snaps awake in an instant, but I'm already taking off after Church. I ran away from him before; I won't let him chase down a murderer by himself.
My naked feet slap against the wood planks outside as I chase after Church and the shadow, fireflies dancing in the air around the courtyard. The shadow person rounds the corner first, but Church isn't far behind.
By the time I catch up, panting and huffing, I see Church grabbing the person by their shoulder and shoving them into the wall. He tears the hood of their gray sweater over their head and reveals a face I never expected to see here.
“Selena?” I ask, choking and coughing as I come to a stop beside the pair of them. Her brown eyes glare down at me as she struggles to catch her breath, blond hair stuck to her sweaty forehead. We only met once, at the Everly All-Girls Academy Valentine's Day dance, but how could I forget the girl who gave me her dress, a wig, and some makeup when I really needed it? “You're one of the killers?”
“What?” Selena asks, blinking back at me like I'm a crazy person. “Is that what he calls his groupies now?”
“Groupies?” I echo, exchanging a look with Church. “Whose groupies?”
“Mark,” she replies with a huff, pushing Church's hands off her shoulders and rubbing at them like she might have bruises later. I'm not surprised: Church has a disturbingly strong grip, at odds with his president of the academy appearance.
“Mark has groupies?” I blurt, and there must be some level of abject horror in my voice because Selena turns her glare on me. Church, on the other hand, doesn't look particularly shocked.
“They call themselves the foot-bra-lers which, really, doesn't make any sense at all.”
“Mark, the douche-canoe-ass-pig has groupies who call themselves … what? Like, footballers but … brawlers?” I'm just having trouble making the connection. Mark is nowhere near cool enough to have groupies.
“Please don't call my boyfriend a douche … wait, did you say ass pig?” Selena asks, giving me a special sort of look. I know my insults are unconventional, okay? But since when is creativity a bad thing? Some paint with oils, others with acrylics, and me … with juvenile quips that make no sense. We all have our mediums.
“Bra-lers, like brassiere, no W,” Church corrects, his shrewd gaze locked on Selena's face. She seems innocent enough, but she was lurking around in the dark, wasn't she? And besides, she goes to Everly, not Adamson, so what the hell is she doing here at all?
“What the fuck is going on?” Ranger snaps, coming around the corner shirtless and glorious and sexy and … I swipe the imaginary drool off my face and try to remember what we're doing out here. Spencer and the twins aren't far behind, and I almost choke when Tobias reaches out to fix my yukata. It's fallen so low that the bindings on my breasts are showing.
“I got you, Chuck,” he whispers as he adjusts my robe and then turns a green-eyed glare on Selena. “The hell is going on out here?”
“We have an Everly girl sneaking around the shadows,” Church says as Selena huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. Crickets chirp and moonlight dances on the koi pond in the front courtyard, but it's far from serene out here. I swear, I can taste the metallic bite of blood in the air.
“Aren't you the girl from the dance?” Spencer asks, cocking his head to one side. I notice as he runs his fingers through his hair that his hand is shaking. I also notice that Tobias has put some distance between himself and Micah, not good. I feel like I've upset their careful twin balance. “We smoked weed on the dock with this chick.”
“This chick has a name,” Selena barks, lifting her chin defiantly. I can't unsee her and Mark grinding on each other outside Church's parents’ party. Gross. Not an image I wanted burned into my brain, thank you very much. “Selena McConnell, and before you lose your ever-loving shit on me again, don't worry: I'm not here for you.” Spencer and Tobias exchange a look as Ranger narrows his sapphire eyes on her, and Church leans one shoulder against the wall, deceptively casual. Micah sidles up to stand beside me and we trade a skeptical look of our own. “I'm looking for my boyfriend, Mark.”
“Why on earth would you come all this way looking for your boyfriend?” Church asks, a dangerous edge to his stoic face and smooth voice.
“I don't owe you an explanation,” Selena grinds out, but then she must realize how ridiculous this all seems, so she sighs and continues on, tucking some hair behind her ear. “He's been acting really weird lately.” She looks my way, as if seeking some female solidarity. “Sneaking around, lying about where he's been, and he's been spending way too much time with miss goody two-shoes.” Selena rolls her brown eyes again. “Aster even followed him here, so why shouldn't I?” Selena's face darkens as my own eyes widen in time with Micah's.
“Who’s Aster?” Micah asks, but even if he doesn’t remember who she is, I do. She's the curvy redhead who danced with both me and Ross during the Valentine's Day dance. But maybe he doesn't need to remember who she is to be weirded out that not one but two girls from Everly have shown up at the Oishii Onsen right after a murder occurred.
“Yeah,” Selena snaps, her face coloring. “She's here, and she's probably in the middle of riding my boyfriend's—”