We finish eating, then clear our plates, heading off to our rooms to get ready. The apartment is filled with the sound of Raf’s drumming, Ava’s door staying firmly shut and the promise of a new normal just waiting to be fucked up.
Good thing I love to watch the world burn.
CHAPTER 21
AVA
After five straighthours of reading from textbooks, my brain feels like mush. So, I decide to venture outside my room for the first time since breakfast, stepping out into the hall to find the place empty. I’m not even sure when it cleared out– just that at some point, Raf’s drumming faded to nothing, and Wes and Ford’s bickering over some video game they were playing died out.
A wave of dizziness hits as soon as I straighten, like all the stored-up tension in my body is rebounding through my spine. I wobble, then do a quick inventory. I haven’t eaten since Raf’s French toast, and I’ve crushed three coffees that Wes delivered to my room at random intervals throughout the morning. If that’s not a recipe for a minor mental break, I don’t know what is.
I move on autopilot through the living room, shoving my feet into a battered pair of sneakers. The usual stretch of chaos– empty beer bottles, discarded hoodies, gaming controllers– is all in its place, except for the hollow silence where the Kings are supposed to be. That alone is enough to make the apartment feel wrong. Like it’s missing a pulse.
At the door, I pause, considering whether I should go to the library and keep studying. I suppose I could just wander aimlessly through campus like all the other co-eds fighting a hangover after a boathouse party. But when my hand closes around the doorknob, I already know what I really want– to find Bryce.
It’s the easiest choice in the world.
I descend the stairs to the second floor, then make my way to his dorm room, knocking on the door. He doesn’t answer, so I dig out my phone to shoot him a text.
Are you dead, or just ghosting me? I need a break from this hellscape.
His reply pings back in seconds.
On the roof.
I respond that I’m on my way, then set off across campus, climbing the rusty old ladder up to meet him.
I find Bryce sitting on the ledge in the center of the roof, wearing a raggedy old hoodie and a pair of running shorts, his platinum hair even messier than usual. I throw up an awkward little wave when we lock eyes, then trudge across the roof to join him.
“Aren’t you cold?” I ask, gesturing to his bare legs.
He shrugs, hands buried deep in the front pocket of his hoodie. “I’m cold-blooded.”
I suppress a shiver, tugging my sweater sleeves over my hands as I sink down beside him on the ledge.
“So,” he starts, pale eyes flicking up to mine. “Did you do it?”
I blink. “Do what?”
He rolls his eyes, then makes a popping noise with his thumb in his mouth, the implication clear.
A flush creeps up my neck. I hesitate, averting my eyes as I reply, “Yeah.”
He whistles, low and soft. “All three, or just…?”
“Raf,” I say, cheeks heating. “But… then also Ford. And Wes. Not all at once.” I pause. “Actually, yes, all at once. But not, like,inme.”
“Okay, okay, I get the picture,” he laughs, waving me off. Then he glances away, features tightening up in a weirdly tender way. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I shrug, picking at the frayed seam of my jeans. “Why?”
He cocks a brow. “Are you kidding?”
I heave a sigh, turning so I’m facing him fully, drawing my knees up into my chest. “Honestly, it was kinda… liberating? Like, I did it because I wanted to. They didn’t force me.”
I went into last night fully aware of what I was about to do, anticipating the inevitable mental spiral afterwards. But then it just… didn’t happen. After the initial pain, the sex was good. Better than good, honestly. It was hot as hell, having my body worshipped by the three sexiest guys on campus.
Part of me knows I should feel ashamed, or used, or degraded by the whole thing, but instead I almost feel powerful. Like I’m finally embracing parts of myself I used to try to hide, stepping into my sexuality and owning it.
