Home > Monster in His Eyes (Monster in His Eyes #1)(50)

Monster in His Eyes (Monster in His Eyes #1)(50)
Author: J.M. Darhower

His hand leaves that spot, drifting up my stomach to my chest. He palms a breast, sweeping his thumb across the erect nipple.

"Yeah, I know," he says. "I'll see you then."

He hangs up, tossing the phone down on the bed, and leans down to kiss me. His lips are hard against mine, frenzied. I reach for him, my hand snaking beneath the blanket, wrapping around his cock. I stroke it once, twice, before he pulls away and snatches ahold of my wrist, stopping me. His eyes regard me peculiarly, a smirk slowly turning his lips. "Huh."

"Huh what?"

"You're good at being quiet."

"I didn't want to interrupt your call," I whisper. "Or, you know, wake Melody."

He curves an eyebrow. "Huh."

Huh. Again. Him and that fucking word that's not even a real word. "What?"

"We might have to test that out some more," he says, kissing me again, softly this time, before climbing out of the bed. I stare at him incredulously as he stands in the middle of the room, completely naked. His movements are unhurried as he gathers up his clothes. "Not now, though. I'd love to stay, but you know…"

I pull the blanket up around me, covering my body, as I sit up and watch him dress. He pulls himself together with ease, running his hands through his hair to tame the locks, before sitting down on the edge of the bed beside me.

"Come with me this weekend," he says, slipping on his shoes. It's not a question. It's a request. I've noticed that about him. He asks things of me without ever really asking. It's cool, and confident, like he already knows my answers so he doesn't bother bullshitting.

"Where?"

"Away," he says.

Another thing I've noticed. He doesn't ever seem to answer my questions, either.

I shake my head. "I shouldn't."

"But you want to."

Of course I do. "Why?"

"Why not?"

I laugh as he stands back up and fixes his shirt collar. "I don't know."

"Your classes are over, aren't they?"

"Yes. I took my last exam yesterday."

"Did you pass?"

I shrug. "I hope."

"I'm sure you will," he says. "So why can't you go with me?"

"Well, Melody and I talked about going out on Saturday to celebrate."

"To celebrate classes being over?"

"No," I say quietly, drawing my knees up to my chest as I wrap my arms around them. "To celebrate my birthday."

He freezes as he stares down at me, a look of surprise passing across his face. It's the first time I've ever caught him off guard, the first time he didn't seem steps ahead of me. He shakes his head after a second, stepping closer, and leans down like he's going to kiss me again. I stare into his eyes as he pauses there.

"Come away with me this weekend," he says again. "I'll show you the time of your life."

"You already have," I whisper. "A few times."

"Sweetheart, you haven't seen anything yet."

His kiss, when it finally reaches my lips, is nothing more than a peck, a soft touch before he stands up. He says nothing else, and doesn't wait around to hear my response.

The cocky bastard just walks out.

I sit there for a moment, clutching the blanket around me, before I start laughing. I just laugh, shaking my head, as I stare at the door. He turns me upside down, making all the blood rush to my head, and then he just leaves me sitting there, lightheaded and inebriated by the essence of him.

Standing up, I grab a towel and some clothes, dragging the blanket with me to the bathroom to take a shower, hoping to wash away the lingering guilt I feel as I stride right by my sleeping roommate, snoring and clueless.

Have I mentioned I'm a terrible friend?

I wash up and pull myself together, getting ready for a day where I have nothing planned. I'll do some packing, maybe, some sleeping, definitely, and probably just drown myself in mindless television all afternoon. I should really find a job, find somewhere else to go, seeing as how I have to be out of the dorm in seven days.

Summer break. I was looking forward to it months ago, counting down the hours until the semester was over, but now I dread even thinking about it. I anticipated going back to Watertown to spend the summer with my mother, but after the visit a few weeks ago I'm not sure how plausible that is.

I'm not even sure how long she'll be there, to be honest, or if she's already gone.

I try not to think about it, try to clear my head as I stand under the warm water, but it lurks in the back of my mind, an ominous rain shower in the distance. My future is as hazy as a storm cloud.

I wonder if Naz drew another picture of the future, if it would be clear for him yet.

I haven't told Naz. I'm not sure how he's going to take a long distance relationship, even if it is only two months.

I'm not sure how I'm going to take it.

He's been gone twenty minutes now, and I already miss his touch so much.

I head back into the room after I'm clean, and changed, feeling wide-awake but I don't want to disturb Melody. So I grab the remote, turning the television on low, and stare at it in the morning light.

Talk shows.

Baby daddy drama.

Cheating boyfriends.

Celebrities in rehab.

I lose myself in everyone else's drama, momentarily forgetting my own issues. Melody stirs in bed a few hours later, as the clock starts to approach noon, and rubs her eyes. "Oh God, I feel like ass."

"Long night?" I ask, flipping the channel to find more mindless entertainment. Court shows.

"And morning," she mutters, sitting up. She's still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, old makeup streaking her tired face. "I didn't wake you when I got home, did I? I tried to be quiet, but I was drunk as shit."

"No," I say. "Didn't bother me at all."

She climbs to her feet and trudges toward the bathroom. I flip through channels again, not paying it much attention, finding something less dramatic.

Game shows.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up!"

The voice shrieks right beside my ear, rousing me from a deep sleep. I yelp, holding my hands up defensively as someone shakes me. Disoriented, I open my eyes to see Melody's blurry face right in front of me, grinning like a maniac. "What?"

"Wake up!" she says again, physically yanking me to a sit.

Groaning, I push her away and blink rapidly. "I'm up, I'm up… ugh, why am I up?"

"I did it," she says, jumping up and down in front of me. "I got my B in Philosophy!"

It takes a moment for her words to sink in. Suddenly wide-awake, I stare at her, anxiety brewing in my stomach. "Wait, grades are posted?"

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