“Yeah, well, tell that to my dear ole dad. Now help me.” Parker nods, dropping the conversation. I pull out the tools I brought with me, not knowing what to expect when I got here. “You grab that side, I’ll get this one, we’ll lift it off the wall on three.”
Parker nods again, but as he steps away from me, his fingers brush against mine. My breathing hitches, and I look down at the spot. I can feel Parker’s eyes on me, and I know I just gave away that I felt it. Felt whatever spark comes to life when we touch.
Shaking my head, I move to the side of the portrait, looking behind it and sighing in relief. It’s held up by a wire, so it’ll easily come off the wall if we lift.
“Ready? One, two, three.” Together we lift the frame, the wire unhooking, as we squat to the ground and rest it against the stone wall. We work together to turn it around, and I carefully remove the backing. Slipping on gloves, knowing how old the paper is, I gently pull it out, rolling it up and tucking it under my arm.
Parker watches me intently, not saying a word, and before we know it, we’re lifting the frame back onto the wall, minus the artwork that sat inside it for god knows how long.
I sigh a breath of relief.
“Now to get out of here unnoticed.”
I follow Parker back through the labyrinth of stone corridors, but we both freeze when we hear the rhythmic clap-clap of shoes on the stone floor breaking through the silence around us. Fear wraps its cold claws around my chest. My heart stops beating, and before my head can catch up to what’s happening, electricity shocks at my side, Parker’s hand on my hip pulling me quickly into a dark alcove just barely big enough for both our bodies.
My mouth opens to gasp, but his free hand is right there, covering my lips, his head shaking slightly. He wordlessly asks me if I’m good, arching his brows. I nod once, and then he’s releasing me, dropping his hands to his sides. The warmth lingers from his touch, a tingling sensation that clouds my thoughts.
We stand there in the silence, keeping our breaths shallow, not wanting to make a single sound. Our chests are only inches apart, and there’s nowhere to look but him. My mind starts to dance wildly, the tension increasing between us. Parker looks unaffected, his face smooth of any tells, but his breathing is coming harder, longer; deeper breaths that tell me he feels this just as much as I do.
His eyes flit down to my lips, and I instinctively wet them, dragging my tongue slowly between the seam before pulling my bottom one between my teeth. The echo of steps comes closer and closer just as Parker leans forward, closing the space between us in the tiniest of increments, like he’s scared I’ll run if he moves too fast.
I look down at his lips, just as a body walks past our hidden spot. Their footsteps echo away from us several paces, and just as I release a breath, they stop. Terror grips me again, but Parker shakes his head, our eyes never leaving each other’s. I focus on the green of his irises, his deep breathing, and how his chest seems to brush against mine ever so slightly when he inhales.
Parker lifts his hand and presses his thumb against my bottom lip, swiping it across my flesh. I’m too stunned to move, my focus now completely on him, the person standing just outside our hiding spot long forgotten. Lightning strikes at the point of contact, my heart beating so loudly I can hear it between my ears. He drags his finger downward, pulling my lip with him until it pops free.
Parker holds me hostage, and my body gives up all control. I hold my breath, unable to make a single movement, and then the footsteps pick back up again, taking them farther and farther away from us. Parker’s head cocks to the side, listeningto make sure we’re in the clear. I sag against the stone wall, relieved we didn’t get caught, turned on from the close proximity to Parker, and wanting so badly to say fuck it and be reckless.
When I meet Parker’s eyes again, the spell is broken, and the dust settles. It’s probably for the best. No good could come from him kissing me.
Chapter 16
Mia
There’s a wholeness that’s washed over me since Parker and Leo agreed to both be my boyfriends. For the first time since I fell in love with them, I don’t feel like I’m being pulled in two different directions. Everything is coming much easier, smoother, and just when I thought fooling around with each of them individually couldn’t get any better, fooling around with them at the same time has opened my eyes and shown me how incredibly wrong I was. I guess it really comes down to what my heart wants, and if she’s happy, so is everything else.
I flip the pages ofWuthering Heightsmindlessly, and even though I’ve read it ten times, I’m struggling to get my thoughts across for my paper on why romanticizing this book is setting up readers for disappointment because they fail to understand, or even recognize, Gothic literature. Bored with it, I toss it off to the side, closing my laptop and setting it on my end table.
Even though I have everything I want, I know that Parker and Leo are both battling their own demons, and now they havethis pressure from the secret society here. Parker’s family is lovely, and they’re a lot like mine. Growing up in Aspen Ridge, a small town in middle-of-nowhere, Washington State, was an incredible privilege. It’s hard not to miss it at times. Like right now, when I’m craving a cheese Danish and a pumpkin spice latte from Bean Haven, and it’s all the way on the other side of the country. Massachusetts does autumn well, but there’s something special about Aspen Ridge.
My parents are incredible and have always been supportive of me, regardless of what that looks like. Leo’s parents, on the other hand? I’m grateful to have never had the displeasure of meeting them, and I hope I don’t have to. The way Leo’s dad puts so much pressure on him to follow in his footsteps is cruel. Leo is an incredible artist; he should be studying art, he should be painting and sculpting, and focusing on things that bring him joy. Not stressing and obsessing over each perfectly curated step he’s forced to take because of his parents.
I stare up at the ceiling, contemplating life, when a raven drops down to perch on the thick tracery outside my window. She seems lonely as her pretty, beady eyes look off into the distance, and I can’t help but wonder where her other half is. She sits there alone for a moment before she croaks and flies off.
Not wanting to be stuck in my room any longer, I pull on my boots, slip on my jacket, and grab my phone. One of my favorite things about attending Corvus College is exploring the grounds. It’s a Gothic paradise, if you’re into that kind of atmosphere. The sun is shrouded by overcast skies, casting a moody haze across campus. I pass by the quad and the Veritas Tree, placing my hand on the center of her trunk to pay my respects before heading on. It only takes me a few minutesbefore I reach the edge of the heavily wooded forest that surrounds the school. The Corvus Cemetery is off to my right, but it’s surrounded by wrought iron gates with no way in or out. No one’s actually seen the doors open.
I take my first step into the forest, a calm excitement rushing through me. My fingertips brush past stems and moss-covered trunks, the scent of fresh forest air filling my nose and putting me at ease. Squirrels scurry, rustling through the dried leaves, foraging for the winter, and birds chirp from their branches above my head, watching, waiting.
The forest is dense, and one could easily get lost in it, which is why we aren’t supposed to explore it. Good thing I don’t listen to the rules. I know my way around this forest like it’s my home, having spent the last three years wandering it. What’s the saying? Into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.
Dried leaves crunch under the soles of my boots, a fog rolling in and kissing my ankles. It doesn’t take me long before I find my destination, a small clearing in the middle of the woods, with an aged stone table. I’ve spent countless times with it, wondering what it was used for, who put it here. If only the trees could talk.
Knowing exactly why I came here in the first place, I slip my panties off, shimmying them down my legs and sticking the fabric in the pocket of my jacket. I lay back on the cold stone and hold up my camera, snapping a quick selfie. My chestnut-brown hair glows against the light-colored stone, and my cheeks blush a bright red from the cold air. I start a group chat with Parker and Leo, quickly sending them the photo.
Me: Dare you to come find me.
Three little bubblesappear and disappear from both of them before I finally get two texts, sent within a moment of each other.
Park: Little rebel. You had better be wet and ready by the time we get there
