Page 59 of When Darkness Calls

I roll my eyes. “I was super zoned out in class. I mean like…earlier but worse. I started getting a migraine and there was just a ton of stuff on my mind. I guess I was really out of it because apparently Professor Logan had been calling on me a few times to answer a question and I completely blocked it out. When I realized what was going on, Issac told Logan I wasn’t feeling great and asked if he could answer instead, then he spent like five minutes talking about the camera framing of Grims games. I guess whatever he rambled about was right ‘cause Logan seemed super happy about his answer…so…”

“Of course, he’d come to your rescue by using hockey.” Liz’s chuckles slowly turn into whiny moans. “What do I do, Dee? I know he’s been a dick, but maybe not,” she sighs, “I’m just confused.”

“What was it you said to me? Femme fatale energy. Mysterious, alluring— “

“Sexy.” We say together.

“Yeah. Okay. If I’m doing this, I should make him work for it.”

“Harder than he already has?” I mumble loudly, with a teasing grin.

Liz throws a pillow at me giggling. “Fucking asshole. Yes, maybe I do mean harder than he already has. I want his ass groveling at my feet because I have not been having a great time, okay?”

I hold my hands up in surrender giggling too. “Alright, I understand.”

A knock at my door causes both of us to jump. I giggle harder, the sudden burst of energy lighting me from the inside.

“Dani?”

I jump off the bed, opening the door. Cade is standing there in his basketball shorts, looking like a pig in the middle of July.

“Ew, Jesus Christ, could you at least put a damn shirt on. You’re dripping sweat on the floor, dude.”

His eyes turn fiery, an evil glimmer shining brightly making the green in the hazel deepen. He swipes his hand through his hair, leaving it sticking straight, and wipes his hand on my face.

“Oh, my fucking god. Out. Out now. Don’t come back,” I yell, pushing at his chest, trying not to gag. “You fucking reek and you’re a dickhead. Out.”

He laughs. Hard. Gasping for air, type of laughing. “Oh, dude, your face.”

I stare at him through thin lids. “What do you want?”

Behind him, quiet footsteps tread down the hall. Grayson’s taller build pops up from behind Cay. He’s shirtless too, just as sweaty, chest heaving, face flushed, and for some reason I’m a little less disgusted.

“Can I shower?” He asks Cade but his eyes are on me. They float from my head to my toes. I push a stray curl behind my ear, feeling hot.

“Aw, seriously. I wanted to shower first. I guess—”

“You can use mine,” I blurt out. Now I’m starting to sweat too. That came out so fucking fast. Grayson’s eyes widened. His mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out.

“Ayy, yeah, take hers. I’m going now. Oh, Dani, I was gonna tell you that we’re going to Bobby’s in a bit. You want your usual?”

Liz groans from behind me. A crease forms on Cade’s forehead, and he leans forward to look into my room. Liz is spread eagle on my bed, face buried into my comforter.

“I didn’t realize Liz was here.” He shoots me a stern look.

“Yeah, I didn’t think it would be a problem.” I question, confused.

“It’s not,” he says, brusquely. “I just wish you’d had let me know.”

Liz clears her throat before pushing herself up onto her forearms. “Can we please get something other than the diner? Please? I had to wash my hair three times last night to get the smell of fryer oil out of it.”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem. Tacos?” Cade’s eyes look between the two of us, but I’m not paying him any more attention than I was Liz earlier. My eyes are raking over every little inch of skin I can see of Grayson. I haven’t seen him shirtless since my sophomore year of high school. And God has he changed. He’s covered in tattoos.

Thorny vines wrap around his right bicep, interspersed with dark shadowed roses that flow across his shoulder and collar bones blending into the five skulls that adorn his chest. Black ink seems to leak from each one in a frenzied array of splatters and sketchy lines.

Low on his left hip a large spindly legged spider sits across the V-line leading into the waist of his shorts. And beneath the hem of his shorts, on his right leg, a black explosion fills everything from his knee to his ankle. It swirls like spilled ink in water.

I would give anything to get close enough to inspect each minute detail of every single one. Maybe with my eyes…or my tongue.