Abi’s smile is thin. “We will see what we can do.”
Which means absolutely nothing.
I stand, kiss my dad’s cheek. “Thank you for breakfast. Text me about Friday.”
I don’t look at Talon. I feel his eyes on the back of my legs as I walk away.
By the time I slide behind the wheel of my car, my hands are shaking. My mouth still tingles. The kiss replays in slow motion. I swore that part of me was off limits. He’s younger. He’s a student in my class. He’s almost my stepbrother.
Another student could talk. One wrong rumor and the dean would not even pretend to be shocked.
I should care more.
The problem is I’m starting not to. Talon is hot and infuriating, and the memory of him kneeling for me at the club is carved into my mind. He pushed today, and I met him halfway. That was my choice.
I drive home, toss my keys on the counter, stand there in the quiet kitchen, and press my fingers to my lips.
If Silas and Gideon find out he is the one playing games with me, I don’t know if they’ll want to share.
I don’t know if Talon can share. But I’m starting to want to find out if he’s willing.
Chapter Seventeen
TALON
The afternoon sunhits the campus walkway like it’s trying to burn through concrete. I cut through the quad with my phone pressed to my ear, half-listening to the hum of students around me. The call clicks, and then that familiar gravelly voice slides through.
“Talon. Long time, no talk. What’s up, my boy?”
I grin. “Not much, G. Just figured it’s been a minute since I checked in. Didn’t want you to think I’d died or something.”
He laughs. “You die? Please. You’re too damn stubborn. How’s my evil sister? Still as manipulative as ever?”
I huff a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of my neck. “You know her. Still trying to pull every string in the room. Won’t let me see Minxy, still treats me like I’m twelve, and now she’s got this last-minute engagement party cooking. Her fiancé, Chad—nice enough guy, but he seems clueless as hell. I asked if Minx could come home for the weekend for the party. Chad said they had called the dean to ask. My mom shut it down before he could even finish the thought. Said it was some ‘testing weekend’ at her school."
He hums, that knowing sound that means he’s already five steps ahead. “And what do you know about this fiancé?”
“Not much,” I admit, watching a couple walk past hand in hand. “Seems decent. Just in over his head. Give it a few months; she’ll have him bled dry, his company tanked, and his house for sale while she’s off shopping for husband number four.”
“Three,” G corrects. “According to the law, anyway. She managed to make that last one vanish from public record. I still don’t know how she pulled it off.”
“Typical,” I mutter, stepping around a girl on her phone. “You ever met him?”
“Nope. Half-sister or not, she’s kept me out of her little social circle. Said it wasn’t my business.” A pause, then a dry laugh. “I wonder if I’ll even get an invite to this party.”
“If you don’t, crash it,” I say without missing a beat.
“I just might.” His voice softens, but there’s steel underneath it. “Hold strong, kid. I’ll see if I can dig up something about Minxy and her school. But don’t do anything stupid to piss your mom off. I need you home and breathing.”
“Yes, sir.”
The line clicks dead, and I drop my hand to my side, letting the phone dangle between my fingers. The quiet after talking to G always feels heavier than it should—like he knows more than he says.
I cut across the courtyard, weaving between clusters of students. The air smells like cut grass and too much cologne. My mind should be on class, but it’s not. It’s on the flash of skin that’s haunted me since that brunch. The press of her mouth. The way she said it didn’t happen.
Penelope.
The name alone does things to me I shouldn’t admit out loud.
