I haven’t kissed Elias since the night when my paintings were destroyed, but I sure as hell haven’t forgotten it. I haven’t forgotten how his mouth felt on mine, how his kiss was different than Gray’s or Declan’s. The way he touched me and looked at me, and how fucking perfect it felt.
I know I pulled away after that, purposefully. I wasn’t sure how to handle the things I was feeling for all of them. I thought maybe it was just my imagination, that I was talking myself into believing they felt the same things I did. That the intensity of the connection between me and Gray was mirrored by my growing connection to Elias and Declan.
But as time goes on, as they do shit like visit me in the hospital and offer to pay for my medical bills and look at me the way Elias is looking at me right now? It’s getting harder and harder to deny it, even to myself.
There’s something here.
It’s real.
And it’s not going away.
It may have been Gray that found me first, but I’m beginning to realize that it’s all of them that I have feelings for. Whatever those feelings might mean—whether it’s physical or emotional, I feel something for all of them that goes way past a flirtatious friendship.
Elias’s gaze is steady as he leans forward, brushing the strands of blue and blonde hair away from my face. His touch is gentle, impossibly tender, barely a skim of his fingertips against my skin, but it leaves fire in its wake.
I may not remember the party where I got hurt, but I remember what it felt like to kiss Elias, and I think he remembers how it felt too.
His gaze drags to my lips, his exhale fanning against my cheek as he leans in, fingers brushing along my jawline.
Just as I tilt my chin up, my lips about to brush his, the door bursts open. Elias and I break apart, the tension between us dissipating as we both glance toward the door. I can’t tell if I’m sad or relieved that we were interrupted before we could take that moment any further.
Ah, who the fuck am I kidding?
My body is still aching, hungry for what it was denied. Maybe the smarter thing is to keep my walls up around the Sinners, but that’s getting harder and harder. It’ll slip over into impossible any day now.
But at least the person who interrupted us is someone I’m happy to see.
“Oh hey, Max.” Elias grins at my best friend, the only other scholarship student admitted to Hawthorne this year. “What’s up?”
Max’s eyes flicker from me to Elias, then back to me. I don’t know if she saw how close our faces were when she walked in, but she doesn’t seem surprised if she did notice it. She cocks her head at Elias, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. “You’re here early.” She grins. “What, did you drug Declan and Gray so they’d sleep in and give you guys a little alone time?”
“Hey, if they can’t be bothered to get up on time, that’s on them,” Elias jokes.
I glance between the two of them, a little surprised by their easy banter. Not that Max dislikes the guys, at least not anymore. She hated them when they were being assholes to me, but as things improved between me and the Sinners, she lightened up her death glares toward them.
Now though, they seem positively chummy.
“Well, it’s my turn to claim her.” Max walks into the room, letting the door shut behind her. “You guys were all here when she woke up yesterday, and I wasn’t. So I’m calling in best friend privileges.”
“Yeah, yeah. All right, fine.” Elias rolls his eyes, but releases his grip on my hand before bending to kiss my temple. “Catch you later, Blue.”
He gives me a small wink as he leaves the room.
Max doesn’t waste a second, hurrying over to my bedside as soon as the spot opens up. “God, it’s good to see you awake, Sophie. I’ve been here a couple times, but you’ve always been asleep. And I just missed you yesterday. I would’ve come back, but by the time Gray texted me that you’d woken up, he said you were out again and needed rest.”
“How long have I been here?” I ask, sitting up a little in the bed. I’m feeling a bit stronger than I did yesterday, and more mentally alert too. More like myself.
“Just a couple days.” Her gaze scans my face. “I got the low-down from Gray on what the doctor said. It sounds like you’re on the mend physically. I’m so fucking relieved. I was really worried. Do you realize how shitty of a friend I’ve been? I should have been looking out for you better.”
“Max,” I say firmly, “it’s not your fault.”
She glances away from me, looking out the window. “Still. I could have helped. I didn’t think anything of it when you stepped away from the dance floor.” Her eyes dart back to me. “I remember seeing you go up the stairs to the second floor, but I don’t know how you ended up at the bottom of the stairs in the basement. It’s so fucking awful. You’re lucky to be alive.”
“I guess so. Maybe it’s a good thing I can’t remember any of it.” I try to say it lightly, as a joke, but it falls flat.
Max gives me a reassuring smile. “You'll remember soon, Sophie. I’m sure of it.”
Fuck, I hope so.
3
The rest of the day is pretty low-key, and the next two days pass in the same way. Doctors and nurses come to check on my vitals every couple of hours, despite me assuring them that I feel just fine, and the guys or Max come to visit whenever they get a chance. I’m not really sure what’s going on over at the campus now that school is out for the winter break, but everyone seems to be keeping themselves busy.
Fuck. I’m ready to go home.
Whatever that means.
The dorms? The McAlisters?
I don’t really know where home is anymore.
Glancing at the breakfast a nurse just brought me, I pick up my fork and poke at it. The food here is actually amazing, and it’s served on nice dishware instead of the plastic hospital trays I’ve seen before.
At this point, regardless of the fact that I’m not having to pay for any of this, I’m ready to get out of here. Nothing against the team of people who are trying to make my recovery as quick and perfect as possible, but I feel good enough, and I’m not really sure why I’m still here at this point, other than to help Doctor Cohen afford a new car.
I try not to think too much about what this breakfast costs, because I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that the guys are paying for all of this.
I know that the costs are racking up. This hospital is obviously used to catering to the wealthy, and I can only imagine the astronomical number on the bill that’s going to be delivered to the guys and not me.
I trust them, I do. But handing them my trust goes against everything I’ve known for the past eighteen years of my life—or the seven that I can remember anyway.
So I guess even though I trust the guys are going to keep their word about helping me pay for all of this, I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe it’s just the life I’ve lived that makes me think that, maybe it’s my inner realist, I’m not sure. I just still feel like I’m holding my breath, waiting for shit to hit the fan. Nothing good can last.
Unless… maybe just this once, it can?
Around noon, Doctor Cohen strolls in, laptop in hand. He usually checks on me twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening, but he’s a little late today. Not that I’m complaining, since I know the exact questions he’s going to ask me and I have the exact same answers.