As if he can read my thoughts, Lucien withdraws a pair of earbuds from his desk drawer and passes them over. I thank him, pulling up a playlist on my phone and returning to the most boring work on the planet.
It’s far easier to concentrate now and I find myself breathing easier. As much as the work is dull, it was the quiet that was really getting to me. I don’t do well with silence ever since my mother started locking me in that room.
Completely white, not a speck of dirt to be found, with a door that only opened from the outside. The silence was so absolute that even my heartbeat sounded like thunder. My ears constantly ached, straining for so much as a stray word from a guard outside. As much as her cruel words cut me, it’s still better than being left in that room, alone and forgotten.
I tap my foot crossed over my knee, the restless feeling dissipating from my nerve endings, allowing me to function and work easier. Despite the monotony of it, I’m able to settle into a better rhythm, each swipe of my highlighter falling in time with the bass. I make much quicker progress and before I know it, I’m setting the last page on Lucien’s desk.
Looking up to find him staring at me, I remove one of my earbuds so that I can hear him. “Yes?”
He blinks, shaking his head. “Nothing, you just continue to intrigue me, little f-,” he catches himself, almost slipping, “female roommate,” he finishes lamely.
Smiling, I hold out my hand for the next stack. “Let’s get this knocked out of the way, shall we? Dorian still owes us a family dinner after all and we should make him pay up before we leave.”
Chapter 22
Cambria
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“You guys are animals,” Dorian complains, passing his credit card to the waiter with a frown. “Did you starve yourselves for days for this or what? No one should be able to eat that much without getting sick.”
Atlas and I are about two seconds from passing out in food comas, but it was well worth it. The look on Dorian’s horrified face will forever be stored in my memory with satisfaction. I turn to Atlas expectantly, resting my elbow on the table and holding up my cheek.
“I will take my prize now, good sir.”
He pouts. “I can’t. I might legitimately die,” he argues.
Still, I don’t back down. “Don’t write checks your ass can’t cash, Atlas. If you weren’t prepared to lose, you shouldn’t have made the bet.”
The waiter returns Dorian’s card and we get ready to leave while Atlas turns around. I stand up on my chair and wrap my arms around his neck as he grabs my thighs.
“It’s almost a mile away from here!” Atlas gripes while I settle in for the ride.
“Loser has to carry the winner to the ring. You’re words, not mine.”
Lucien and Dorian grab the two travel bags we’ve taken to carrying when we cross over, not needing much since we have a house there now. After our impromptu trek through the forest soaking wet though, we agreed to carry some basics just in case.
