And—
“There are literally multiple books on scythes and don’t even get me started on the rebellion books,” Ocean hollers, jolting us apart as her voice carries quicker than she does.
As she turns the corner, coming into view, Thorne is so far away from me I could swear it must have all been a hallucination. But the way he sweeps his hand through his hair, his gaze downcast, tells me he’s just as affected as I am. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, my mind swirling, but before I can think of a single word, Thorne’s voice cuts through the air.
“Then let’s get to work.”
18
ELODIE
“Ican help you with those,” Thorne states, arms outstretched, and I can imagine there’s a pointed look on his face, but I can’t bring myself to find out.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” I mumble, refusing to give up the stack of books nestled against my chest, my fingers wrapped around them precariously.
Institute Thirteen looms ahead, keeping my focus as Thorne remains at my side.
“You’re mad at me,” he declares, and I bite back a snicker as I feel my blood pressure warm up my neck and tingle my cheeks.
With a shake of my head, I sigh. “I’m not mad, I just can’t handle this.” I wiggle my pointer finger back and forth between us, unsure if he can see or not, but again, I refuse to check with my own eyes.
His mere presence is enough to send tingles up my spine. I spent the entire time in the restricted section of the library trapped in a vortex of desire and frustration. If he feels even remotely the same, he doesn’t show it, and that only pisses me off more. Then, to make matters worse, the second he successfully got us out of the library altogether, Ocean’s cell phone chimed with a text from Nathaniel.
I thought he was okay before, average at best, but I hate him now. Despise even.
Of course he wanted to see her when I needed her as a buffer, but I wasn’t going to admit to that, so I did what every reasonable friend does and sacrificed myself for the greater good. Besides, I thought walking the short distance back to Institute Thirteen with Thorne was going to be manageable, but apparently, I was wrong.
“What do you mean by this?” Thorne asks, yanking me from my thoughts. I catch sight of his finger sweeping back and forth between us in the same motion I just used.
He definitely saw me do it.
I need him to stop looking at me because that alone turns me into jelly at this stage.
Going against my own promise, I glare at him from the corner of my eye as I tighten my hold on the books in my hands.
“I already told you the answer to that,” I state, my tone clipped as I attempt to give him a withering look, but it feels pointless when he shrugs, offering me the quirkiest little lopsided grin I’ve ever seen. It’s almost like he’s not quite sure how to do it.
Why does that make my core clench tighter?
Dammit.
Silently, he hurries ahead a few steps to open the main door to the institute, and I reluctantly mumble my thanks as I head straight for the stairs. His eyes are on me the entire time, waiting for me to speak, but it’s not until we’re passing the second floor that I find the use of my tongue.
“Why did you come to the library?”
He shrugs as his eyebrows gather a little. “To bring you both coffees and pastries,” he states slowly, like he’s confused by the fact that I don’t already know the answer to my own question.
Ass.
Shaking my head, I tilt my face in his direction as I push further. “Why didn’t Rion come? Is he okay?” I watch for a flicker of a lie or uncertainty across his face, but nothing gives him away as he looks dead ahead.
“He’s fine.” I cock a brow even though he can’t see, but he must sense it or something because he adds, “He was watching television when I left.”
The second the soles of my institute-issued shoes hit the top floor, I pause, turning my entire body to face him, and he instantly matches my stance.
“I call bullshit,” I blurt, my irritation seeping through in my tone. “I haven’t known Rion long, but it’s been long enough to know he wouldn’t have sent you for no reason. Especially not some shit like watching television.” My brain starts to spiral, but it’s not lost on me that my mind is instantly drawn to the fact that something’s wrongforhim, notbecauseof him. My eyes widen as a thought comes to mind. “Has Professor Drayker been an issue again?”
I’m ready to toss these ancient freaking books on my bed and cause a riot, but to my surprise, he shakes his head.
