I shrug, my nonchalance completely at odds with the way my blood heats at merely hearing her name. “And?”
“I’ve beensummoned.”
Benjamin takes up the chair across from me, resting his forearms on the table while clasping his hands. He stares at hisfingers as though imagining blood on them. Considering he’s going to kill someone soon, it’s a distinct possibility.
“Your first time?” I ask.
He drops his gaze and nods. “Yeah. What about you?”
“I’ve been summoned several times.”
“Damn.”
“It’s part of the oath we took.” I tilt my head. “Speaking of, which part of ‘celibacy for a year’ did you not understand?”
Benjamin squeezes his hands until his skin blanches. “My relationship with her isn’t like that.”
“But you want it to be.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“I’m not going to break my oath.”
“Good.” I raise a brow. “The Order puts more importance on our final year than any other. It's the first time we’re sent on missions and the reason we have to be celibate all senior year. They don’t want us thinking with our dicks and fucking things up. If you know that, then why are you mentioning this girl?”
Benjamin jerks up his head and his gaze shoots to mine. “She’s important. More than anything else in my life.”
“Dangerous words.” The very ones I’ve spoken to myself in the dark hours when it’s just me and my thoughts of Delilah. “No one is worth the risk.”
“She is.”
I couldn’t agree more.
“Why?” I ask.
“She’s family.”
“Your lineage can be traced back to the Mayflower, and she isn’t part of it.”
Benjamin shakes his head. “We’re not related by blood, but she’s…”
“Like a sister?”
He slowly nods, but his hesitation speaks of things he wants to deny. Or keep secret. It doesn’t matter. She’ll never be his.
I’ll kill him first.
“Why are you telling me about her now?” I ask.
“You know every summons is different. I have no idea how long I’ll be gone. It will be easier for me to concentrate if I know you’re watching over her.”
I’ve been watching over her for three fucking years. Within a few days, she’ll be the closest she’s ever been, and I’ll struggle to maintain my distance more than ever.
“Why me?” I ask.
“You’re the only one I trust to look after Delilah while I’m gone.”
The air becomes charged with unspoken thoughts. Her name holds a significance that neither of us is willing to admit out loud. Although a delicate thread, this woman binds us together.
“Will you help me?” he asks. His eyes reflect a mixture of desperation and pleading. “I have to know before I leave.”
