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Authors: Eveline Hunt

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BOOK: Darksoul
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“Then if you hate
them, why—”

“Going
once,” he said, looking amused. “Going twice—”

I took it
. “Thanks. You do owe me. For being mean earlier.”

He rose out of his crouch and went over to the glass table. “Sorry about that,” he said, grabbing the emptier ashtray. “I’m…a little touchy. It’d be better if you don’t mention it.”

“Mention what?”

Playing stupid. I wanted him to get the words out. To tell me.

“You know,” he said, coming back and lazily sitting down next to me.

I sipped
the hot chocolate, blinking in surprise when I realized he’d gotten it just like I liked it—a little too sweet, with a hint of coffee. “According to you,” I said, plucking up a marshmallow and popping it into my mouth, “I
don’t
know. Since I’m so damn inexperienced.”

“Well, is that a lie?”

“No, but—”

“I’d prefer it if we dropped the subject.” His tone was even, but closed. End of discussion.

“What is it? Did you get burned?”

He said nothing, took a
sip of his beer. Io purred where she rested on top of my head.

And then I realized.

“Oh, my God,” I said, covering my mouth so he wouldn’t see my smile. “Oh, my God. You didn’t get burned. You
like
someone. Oh, my God!”

He reached
into his back pocket. “You’re always jumping to the stupidest conclusions,” he said, putting a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. “I never said I liked anyone. I never said this had to do with anyone. I’m simply not open to the subject, and—”

Oh, please. “Stop bullshitting me, Slade. It’s clear that it has to do with someone. And would you
do me a favor—” I watched as he let out a puff of smoke. “You should put that away. Not good for you, you know.”

“They’re my lungs.”

“Are you an idiot? My lungs get affected, too, as long as I’m sitting here.”

“Then scoot away. Or better yet, leave.”

“You’re the biggest asshole of all assholes, you know that?” I took another sip of hot chocolate, gazing at the striking greenery sprawled in front of us. My voice was small when I spoke again. “Do you really want me to leave?”

“No.” His tone implied
the word
silly
. “Of course not.”

“Then why—?”
Ugh. “You know what, forget it,” I said. “Can I just—can I ask you a question?”

He
sipped his beer, staring straight ahead.

“I’m going t
o assume that’s a yes.” Holding my breath, I grabbed his hand, the one that held the cigarette. Gently, I dragged my fingertips across his feather-light scars. He gave no visible response to my touch except for a sidelong glance. “What happened to you?”

He drew
his hand away to take a drag. “Nothing you should concern yourself about.”


Nothing I should concern myself about?”

Silence.

“Are you serious?” I said.

More silence.
He flicked off the excess ash, leaned forward and propped his elbows on his drawn-up knees.

Okay. Fine.
I took my phone out of my pocket and unlocked it, tapping my way to the Google search bar.

He
glanced at the screen. “What are you doing?”

“I’m looking up the definition of friendship for you,” I said. “
Shh, don’t look so disgusted. Hold on, and—here we have it.”

He pursed his lips as if to hold back a smile. “Don’t read it.”

“Oh, I’m reading it.”

“For the sake of my sanity. Don’t.”

“Nothing you can do to stop me and—friendship. ‘When two idiots hang out together, drawn by shared views and similar interests…yadda yadda.’ Pretty damn accurate. Hey, check this one out —‘two pals munching on a well-cooked face.’ Whose face will we much on, eh, Slade?”

“This is
torture.”

“Oh, look, even better—‘a method of castrating men without using sharp objects.’ That sounds just about—wait a minute. What?”

The side of his mouth twitched. “Where are you getting these definitions, anyway?”

“The Urban Dictionary.”

“Charming.”

Suddenly, Io tugged
on the tips of my bangs and pulled them toward him, as if to close the distance between us. I acted as though there was nothing there.


I need you to do me a favor,” he said.

“What? Stop talking?” I laughed
. “Good luck trying to shut me up.”

“I can think of a couple of ways I could keep your mouth busy, but shutting up isn’t what I want you to do.” He stood and,
blowing out a trail of smoke, held out a hand to me. Blinking, I took it, and he pulled me to my feet. “Wait here for a moment.”

I watched as he grabbed a stool near the wall and set it down in front of
an easel. “Oh, no,” I said, understanding what he was doing. “I’m not going to sit for you. I’m not.”

“I’m trying to get experience in drawing every type of subject. Little rodents included.”

“And you think your insults are going to make me want to do it? What fucking planet are you from?” I took another swig of hot chocolate. No way was I going near him. “Keep talking. I’ll kick your ass.”

“You’re
speaking to a masochist. You kicking my ass doesn’t conjure unpleasant thoughts.”

I nearly gagged. “I think I’ve found someone worse than Ash. Something I didn’t think possible, by the way.”

He patted the stool. “Come here,” he said. Eyes twinkling, he added, “Please.”

 

Chapter
14

 

Figuring I had nothing
to lose, I came over and slid onto the seat. Io perched herself on my shoulder again. “You said please,” I said. “That in and of itself is a tiny miracle.”

“Enjoy it. It’s not going to happen again.”

“You’re telling me. You’re literally Asshole Incorporated wrapped into a tattooed, cigarette-smoking, admittedly handsome blonde package.”

He grabbed a stick of vine charcoal from his artsy table, laughing a little. It was a nice sound, his laughte
r. His dimples showed again. I watched in wonder.

“I’m going to make funny faces,” I said, popping another marshmallow into my mouth, “just so you can’t draw me accurately. Talk about pure evil.”

“Not going to work,” he murmured. “I could draw you with my eyes closed.”

Erm
. “What?”

“I could draw you with my eyes closed,” he repeated, loud enough for me to hear.
He took his place behind the easel, getting the materials ready. “That face. So simple. So plain. Quite boring, if I’m honest.”

I jumped down
from the stool. “Then it’s obvious you don’t need me here, Slade. Draw another girl who tickles your fancy. I’ll see you later.”

He stopped long enough to look at me. “Sit down.”

“No. If you can draw me with your eyes closed, then you can do it while I’m not here. Good luck to you. Not.”

Just as I was about to turn and get my stuff, he said, “I think I’m going to call Asher.”

I froze.

“I’ve been dying to tell him this one girl really likes him,” said Hunter, sounding amused. “No. I don’t think she likes him. In all honesty, I think it’s more than that. If only I could remember the word…ah, what was it? Lo—?”

I swiveled around and glared at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He took
a drag of his cigarette, the side of his mouth tilting up. “Come and sit down, and I’ll consider not declaring your feelings for you.”

I didn’t move.

A stream of smoke. “I see,” he said, reaching into his back pocket for his phone and unlocking it with a swift swipe of his thumb. “Asher and I do hang out quite a lot. When he comes over for a drink later, I’ll be sure to tell him. I’m just going to give him a heads-up right now. Make him curious, so to speak—”

I was already at the stool.

“That’s what I thought,” Hunter said, eyes crinkled with secretive laughter. “Don’t worry about staying still. Just let me look at you.”

“I don’t understand,” I said.
“You can draw me without needing me there, like in the project. The paintings looked exactly like me—”


Mmm,” he murmured as he started to draw. His gaze flicked from me to the canvas and back.

“No, honestly. I mean it. You could do this without me—”

His arm didn’t stop moving. “If you want to leave, just say so.”

“Oh, Hun-Hun, you’re so damn sensitive. I never said I wanted to go. I’m
just trying to assert your awesomeness as an artist. For the thousandth time.”

He
stopped. “Hun-Hun,” he repeated.

“You like it, eh? Hun-Hun. I think it fits you perfectly. You have this killer first name—I mean, Hunter is literally a killer first name—and then I turn it into something fit for a teddy bear. Eh? What do you think?”

“A teddy bear,” he said, the vine charcoal resuming its graceful dance across the canvas. “I guess that means you sleep with me every night.”

“Please. I would never in a million years—” And then I understood.

“So do you sleep with me in your arms or in between your legs? Both places are quite promising, although your teeny A-cups aren’t doing much for me in the excitement department.”

My eyebrow twitched. “Shut up. Mine are B-cups. And totally amazing ones, for your information.”

“Show me.” His eyes flickered up to mine, glittering a roguish gray. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

“I think—” I cut off, indignant. “I think
we’ve forgotten our agreement. Remember? I’m genderless. No boobs. No holes between my legs. Okay?”


Mmm.”

That
mmm
was going to get him killed one day. By me.

“I think,” he said, turning to get a can of what looked like paint spray, “
that you should tell Asher. About your feelings.”

I refused to respond to that. Instead, I nodded at the can and asked, “What’s that?”

“Fixative.” He sprayed a quick layer over the canvas and got his paintbrushes ready. It must’ve been a fast drawing, a light outline. Damn. The guy was a freaking art genius. “Back to what I was saying. Asher—”

“Shut up.”

“You should tell him.”

I glared down at my empty mug.

“Look up for me,” he said. Frowning, I complied. “Ah,” he said, trying not to smile. “Come on, little mouse. I can’t paint you when you’re staring at me like I’m the bane of your life.”

“You
are
the bane of my life.”

“Harsh.”

“Yeah, well—”

“If you don’t tell him, I will. Simple as that.”

“Okay, why don’t we talk about
you
for a second.” My tone was cold. “Secret girlfriend that you only use for sex? Minus five hundred points.”

“That’ll be hard to recover from.”

“My exact intention. How many of those girlfriends have you had? A hundred?”

He considered the question. “Well,” he said, swiping out another cigarette from his back pocket and putting it between his lips, “not a hundred. But quite a lot, yes.”

“So you’re a walking STD. Fantastic.” Definitely not getting near Sumi now.

Hunter lit his
second cigarette in ten minutes and grabbed a couple of paint tubes. “It’s called a condom. I thought we’d gone over this already.”

“What if
a psycho bitch punched a hole through it to get herself pregnant?”

“Guess I’d better start buying diapers.”

His answer made me stop on my tracks. “You wouldn’t…” All right. Possible ten thousand points here. “You wouldn’t leave her?”

Faint amusement.
“Don’t get any ideas, now.”

“Shut up. I mean…” I stared at him,
awed. “You’d look after the baby?”

He took out a palette and smeared a tinge of
black, gray, white, and brown on it. To make an underpainting. The guy was a freaking pro. “Well,” he said, his voice cool, “I’d like to see how the little punk turns out. That’s all.”

I bit back a smile. “Stop hiding it.
You’d care if one of your girlfriends got pregnant.”

“‘One of my girlfriends’?”

Yep. “I’m done differentiating you and Ash. You’re basically the same person in two different bodies. So, yeah.”


You think Asher has a girl? You can’t be serious.”

I said nothing.

“The fucker’s just fooling around. He doesn’t give a shit about any of them. Trust me.” Hunter’s voice lowered to a murmur. “I would know.”

That was when the doors exploded open and Ash strolled in, talking into his p
hone. He was holding two beers, and he leaned away from the screen long enough to say to Hunter, “Hope you don’t mind that I stole a couple of—yeah, babe, I hear you,” said Ash, turning to the person on the other side of the line. He came over, taking a Butterfinger bar out of his pocket and holding it out to me.

“Yeah,” I said, trying not to listen in
as I took the candy. And trying not to stare at his arms. Or at the hood of his sweater. Or the perpetual shadow hovering behind his neck. Goddamn. “Thanks.”

He spared
me a half-smile before returning to his girl. “Right. Yeah. I agree.” Suddenly, he pulled away from the receiver. “Wait, Zel. What are you doing here?”

I was wondering the same thing about him. “Hunter wanted to draw a mouse.
Sooo here I am.”

Ash looked at Hunter,
his eyes crinkling with amusement. “I see. Right,” he said, talking into the phone again. Gait as easy and lazy as his blonde un-twin’s, he went over to the canvas and spied Hunter’s progress, looking reasonably impressed. “Not bad.”

“For a little rodent,” said Hunter, taking the
beer offered.

“I hate you both,” I grumbled from my seat.

They glanced up at me. At the same time, the right side of their mouths twitched.

“Yeah,” said Ash, and after a moment I realized he was
speaking to the girl. “Right. Listen, Lisa, I’ve got to go. Call you tonight.”

Click
.

“Harsh,” said Hunter. He
grabbed the cigarette between his lips and, blowing out a trail of smoke, held it out to Ash.

“She wouldn’t shut the fuck up.” Ash
took the damned thing and brought it to his mouth, still gazing at the canvas. “Annoying as shit. Talk to them one bloody time and they suddenly think they own you.”


Aaaand I’m going now,” I said, rising from my seat. “You guys are obviously bros. I don’t want to get in the way of bro time. Yeah. Bye.”

At the same time, they said, “Sit.”

“No. It’s going to get dark soon, and—”

“It’s four in the afternoon,” said Ash, looking amused.

“Sunset isn’t until two hours from now,” Hunter said, looking just as entertained.

I crossed my arms. “Maybe I
just want to leave.”

“In that case,” said
Hunter, tipping back his beer. The side of his lips curled up. “Asher. I have something to tell you.”

Immediately, I sat back down. “I’ll stay,” I said, giving a bout of nervous laughter and scratching the back of my head. “Ha. Ha-ha. I’ll stay here if you want me to
. Woo-hoo. How fun. Sitting still. Um…” I swallowed, tried to laugh again. “Ha.”

Hunter looked as
if he were trying not to smile. Ash let out a puff of smoke, eyes glittering with amusement.

I could barely believe it when, two hours later, I still found myself at Hunter’s place. The guy was waiting for the first layer of
the underpainting to dry, and both he and Ash dragged me to a room down the hall. I almost busted out my moves and kicked them where it hurts, but then I saw the giant screen and the comfy sofa—with reclining seats and all—and suddenly understood.

“Look,” I said as they plopped down on the couch.
“I honestly need to go—”

Ash
patted the space between them, lips curled at a corner. A space they’d left for me.

“One of you
will give me a ride home,” I grumbled, kicking off my shoes as I took the seat offered. They propped their feet up on the ottoman, and when I tried to do the same, I came a couple of inches short. I felt Ash laughing beside me.

“Of course
we will,” Hunter said, surfing through the movie channels. “Right, Asher?”

“Certainly.”

“We both want to give you a ride. Right, Asher?”

“Certainly.”

I narrowed my eyes at Hunter, and then at Ash, who was playing with his tongue piercing and trying not to smile at the same time. The silvery orb pressed against the sensual line of his lips before he flipped it around and did it again.

“I t
hink I’ll ride my bike,” I said.

“No, no,” said Ash, flinging a nonchalan
t arm over the back of the sofa.

“We ins
ist,” said Hunter, echoing him. Their arms brushed the tops of my shoulders.

“Which one of us will you ride first?” asked Ash. “Or will you do the impossible and ride us both?” He coughed into his fist. “Sorry. I meant—ride with us both?”

Guy friends are such a joy. Not. “I’d rather take my chances with a toilet. I’m sure it’ll make me come better than you two ever will.” I coughed into my fist. “Sorry. I meant, it’ll take me
home
faster than you two ever will.”

Ash looked impressed. “Not bad.”

“For a little rodent,” said Hunter.

I
cracked my knuckles. “Keep talking.”

“Put on Playboy,” said Ash. “It’ll either calm her down or put her in the mood.”

Gross. “Give me this,” I said to Hunter, grabbing the remote control from him. “You guys have no taste. I say a romantic comedy—”

At the same time. “No.”

“Oh, that’s right,” I said, remembering. “I’m dealing with touchy men here. That’s okay. You’ll get over it when you find legit girlfriends who’ll drag you to the latest chick flick.”


Mmm,” murmured Hunter.

“Doubt it,” muttered Ash.

“Let’s see.” I tucked my knees against my chest and leaned forward, scooting to the edge of the couch so I wasn’t sitting against their arms. Curling my hand around the toes of my socks, I said, “I think…an action movie, yeah?”

BOOK: Darksoul
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