Page 28

RUMOR HAS IT

MILA

I’m still squirming as Alex offers his hand to help me from the carousel platform. He refused to give me back my underwear after what we did, so I’m careful with how I step. Not as confident about how my skirt will make it too easy to flash people now that I don’t have any underwear on.

At least Alex seems as uninterested in people looking up my skirt as I am. He positions his body to block anyone’s view until my feet find solid ground.

We stop by the makeshift bathrooms to clean up. But by the time I fix my smeared eyeliner, I’ve wiped away most of my makeup.

Alex is already done and waiting for me outside when I exit the bathroom.

But he doesn’t take my hand or even stand close.

He hooks his thumbs into his pockets, weaving us through the crowd.

I try not to let his boundaries bother me.

I understand some people aren’t as affectionate.

Or at least not public about it. But with Alex, it’s something else entirely.

A wall I’m scaling. Each time I think I’m finally making progress, my feet slip.

There’s at least a foot of distance between us as we weave through the crowd.

The only time he edges closer is if someone tries to step between us.

It’s clear he wants to be close—that he’s watching my every move and where I am in relation to him—he just doesn’t seem to know what he plans on doing about it.

Regardless of the space, I’m trapped in his orbit.

Alex is a black hole, and while his boundaries keep him safe, there’s little protecting my heart when I steal a glance and catch his hazel eyes watching me.

One way or another, I’m going under for this man.

All I can do is hope that at some point he finds a way to meet me there.

People buzz around us, so we walk in silence. If he won’t speak to his sister or mother, there’s no way he’ll open up with me in front of strangers. The quiet leaves plenty of time for me to wonder what he’s thinking about.

Is he thinking about what we did?

Is he regretting not coming when he had the chance?

What does it mean that he didn’t?

I’m used to guys seeing me as a means to an end. My lack of self-respect when it came to sex with guys before Marco was borderline embarrassing. But Alex seems intent on proving that’s not all this is for him. There’s no rush. He’s taking his time.

“Maybe Mila can show us?” Marco’s voice cuts through all others, and I look up to see him leaning against a wooden post with a throwing knife in his hand.

Of all the places Alex could have led me, of course, he decided to take me to Marco. Probably punishment for insinuating I’m still jealous over my ex-boyfriend .

Unless I’m the one who led us here?

If so, it wasn’t intentional.

“No way.” Maddox chuckles, pulling the redhead under his arm closer.

She’s familiar, so she must go to school with us. But she’s also young, so she is probably a freshman.

Marco lifts off the post and takes a step toward me, stopping only when he notices Alex at my side. The gap between us has closed to almost nothing, which is surprising, since his fraternity is going to use it to read into our relationship.

Marco’s gaze drifts from Alex to me, not acknowledging him. “Rumor has it, Mila knows her way around a blade.”

“How would you know that?”

Besides throwing a knife at Alex at Sigma House, I’ve never told anyone but Patience.

“Really, Mila?” Marco steps forward.

Close enough to smell the beer on his breath as he gleams down at me. His dark eyes flash with something I mistook as charm when I met him. Now all I see is the manipulation.

He reaches out, brushing my skirt. His fingers tease the spot where I hide the knife strapped to my thigh, and I take a step back.

I forgot he knows about that. We didn’t fuck while we were dating, but we kissed and touched enough that he asked me about it.

Beside me, I feel Alex stiffen, and I realize that I didn’t step back, I stepped sideways, against him. And even if he hasn’t pulled his hands from his pockets, I feel every fiber of irritation radiating from his skin.

“Oh, right.” I clear my throat .

Marco chuckles mockingly. “Besides, apparently, this place is practically your home.”

Those rumors started spreading after someone at school overheard me talking to Patience when we came here before she left. And while I used to try and hide my involvement in the carnival when I was younger, I don’t care what people say about it now, so I let them spread.

“Can you seriously throw knives, Mila?” Maddox asks.

His eyes are hazy with whatever he’s high on.

Marco smirks. “She’s not going to show us.”

“Oh, come on,” Maddox eggs me on. “That’s wicked. I want to see it.”

“It’s been a while,” I lie, given I just threw one at Alex’s head this week. “I’m out of practice.”

“You can’t be that bad.” Maddox grins.

Marco leans against a post again, assessing me. “I don’t know, man. You want to stand up there and let her throw ’em at you? How fucking high are you right now, anyway?”

“As a matter of fact…” I smirk. “Why don’t you stand up there, Marco?”

“Fuck no. You’d hit me on purpose.”

He isn’t wrong.

“Besides.” Marco’s dark eyes skim me. “I bet the rumor was bullshit. With a rack like that, you don’t actually have to be good at doing anything. You were probably just a pretty circus act.”

My entire body tenses.

It’s bad enough that he’s not entirely wrong when that’s how my parents treated me. But to hear it from him takes an ice pick to my insecurity.

I’m still swallowing Marco’s insult when Alex steps forward .

Knowing what he did to Oxy, I lift a hand to stop him from killing Marco on sight. But he doesn’t head toward Marco; he aims for the platform, standing in the center of the target.

“Should we actually be doing this?” Maddox looks around.

“No one’s watching.” Marco shrugs him off. “If Alex wants to trust her just because he’s fucking her, let him.”

I hate that Marco is weaponizing what I do with Alex when it’s none of his business. Men fuck whoever they want, but God forbid a woman do it.

Using that thought as fuel, I step forward and grab the first knife from the row of six sitting on the table. Whoever is in charge of this act is reckless to leave these sitting out. When this was my job, my knives never left my side.

I slowly roll my wrist, assessing the weight of the hilt and the sharpness of the blade. The knife I threw in the office wasn’t technically a throwing knife, but this one feels like home.

I turn to face Alex, who hasn’t so much as removed his hands from his pockets as he stands facing me. His face is completely blank, and I wonder if he trusts me that much or if he stopped caring about facing death after surviving it once already.

“Scared?” Marco taunts from my left.

I toss him a glare, hating how easy it is for him to dismiss me and treat me like I meant nothing to him. I harness that thought as I lift my arm and take a deep breath, blocking out Marco and the carnival music. I ignore the smell of popcorn and the sounds of voices all around.

My focus is only on Alex, who is silently handing me the trust I haven’t earned .

With that thought fastened in my mind, I wind my arm back and then throw the knife.

Alex doesn’t flinch as it lands in the wood beside his head. Like he truly doesn’t have a care in the world if I hit him or not.

Marco has at least fallen silent beside me, while Maddox whoops and the girl beside him claps. It’s sweet even if her stumble tells me she’s drunk.

“That was luck.” Marco huffs. “Bet you can’t do it again.”

I know Marco’s comment is said to irritate me, so I try not to let it get under my skin.

“What are we betting?” I can’t help myself. “If I hit the target again, will you finally leave me alone?”

Marco’s gaze narrows. “If you hit the target again—without hitting Alex—I’ll leave you alone all next week. But I already warned you this isn’t over, baby.”

I roll my eyes when he winks, wishing he had stepped on the platform so I could miss on purpose. At least his offer to leave me alone for a week is something. So I pick up the second knife and throw it.

The blade lodges itself on the other side of the target, a hair away from Alex’s shoulder.

One after the other, I toss the knives until the last of six sinks a quarter of an inch away from Alex’s leg. It’s only then that I release the breath I’ve been holding. I wasn’t lying when I said I was out of practice. So even if Alex wasn’t worried about me hitting him, I’m relieved I didn’t.

A satisfied smile warms my cheeks, and it’s enough to crack Alex’s stone-cold expression.

He smirks like I’ve surprised him. Impressed him. That alone makes this worth it.

With pride heating his gaze, Alex reaches his left arm across his chest and grabs the handle of the blade lodged beside the right side of his head. He pulls it from the wood and takes one step forward.

One second, his eyes are on me. The next, he sends the knife flying through the air between us.

The blade lands in the center of Marco’s shoulder.