Page 33

YOU’VE GOT POTENTIAL

MILA

My body aches as I peel my eyes open. For a moment, I forget I’m not in my bedroom. I squint at the pitch-black surroundings. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust, but even when they do, Alex’s curtains smother out what time of day it is.

Rolling onto my side, I stretch my arm to find the other side of the bed empty. The sheets are cold, like Alex has been gone for a while. When I fell asleep, he was curled around me, but it must not have lasted long.

The first time Alex disappeared from the bed, I blamed it on myself, thinking I wasn’t a good enough reason to stay.

This time, I have a deeper understanding.

After everything he told me last night, I can’t fathom what haunts him when he closes his eyes.

My ribs tighten thinking about what he said.

How he felt himself dying. Worse, the pain as the doctors tried to put him back together.

I lift his sheet to my nose. Holding what’s left of him in the darkness and wishing it was enough to soothe his soul. Alex hangs in every molecule of air. He saturates his bed. He’s becoming my compulsion. My need.

To feel him. Taste him. Have him.

And now that he’s told me his story, I fear there’s no turning back.

I might not understand him, but I see him. I accept who he is. The good and bad. I accept all of him.

When I finally find the strength to sit, the soreness between my legs becomes even more prominent.

Alex isn’t gentle when he fucks me, and last night, after he let me touch him, we were untethered.

He punished me for every graze of my fingertips, and all that did was make me hold on tighter.

I pulled him close, and he devoured me whole.

He fucked me like there was no other way to survive.

Maybe there isn’t.

There hasn’t been a way out of this since his lips first touched mine in the study. That kiss was an answer to a question I’d been asking myself since he first looked at me at Montgomery.

Why had no one else made sense?

Because they weren’t him .

It takes every bit of strength to drag myself out of Alex’s bed. My tank top, shorts, and knife are scattered in the darkness, so I peel open the curtains, surprised to be met with daylight. Tapping my phone, I see I slept until almost ten.

Alex isn’t anywhere to be seen, so I get dressed and help myself to his toothpaste, using a finger to run it over my teeth. His hairbrush rips through my hair with every brush, tugging at the knots.

By the time I’m done, I’m still barely presentable.

At least with Alex having his own bathroom, no one can see the mess of mascara on my cheeks before I wash it off .

Once I’m somewhat put together, I adjust my tank top and take a final deep breath. I have no idea where Alex disappeared to, but I’m not wandering Sigma House to search for him. And I’m not staying in his room alone when my obsession with this man is reaching uncontainable levels.

Knowing him, he’ll text me when he realizes I’m gone. Or he’ll even show up at my dorm room later today. I scribble a note letting him know to find me later and slip out of his room.

The hallway is thankfully quiet. I don’t pass anyone as I find my way back to the main staircase. Sigma House is humming with voices coming from a room tucked down one of the hallways, but the foyer is empty.

Without a party raging, the guards I’m used to standing at the bottom of the stairs have relinquished their posts.

It says something about Alex’s trust in me that he left me to go where I please, especially when he already caught me snooping around Sigma House once.

I’m halfway across the marble floor in the foyer when the front door swings open. Sun beams from behind the man stepping through, and for a second, I think it’s Alex. But this man is older. His blond hair is peppered with gray. He’s slightly shorter and wearing a perfectly tailored suit.

His shapely lips form a thin line as he closes the door behind him, assessing me. “Hello, Mila.”

He knows who I am?

My face must show my confusion because his mouth quirks with an amused grin as he takes a step forward.

“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure.” He pauses a few steps away. “I wasn’t home when you stopped by the property with my son.”

“Mr. Lancaster?” It hits me like a bolt of lightning .

Alex is all comfort, but his father feels like something else entirely.

“You may call me Gideon.” The smile on his face should probably feel friendly, but it doesn’t.

“Gideon,” I repeat. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He hums, not agreeing that it’s nice to meet me, too, as his eyes do another sweep. Suddenly, I wish I were wearing more clothes. Or that he would at least stop looking at me the way he is.

“My son always did have unusual taste.” Another sweep. “A testament to his defiance, I suppose.”

Is that an insult?

“You’re from Oregon, correct?” He breezes past his comment and moves on.

“How did you know that?”

“I make a point of knowing everything there is to know where my son is concerned.”

Gideon steps closer, and I start to see their many differences, even if I thought they were the same person at first glance. His father’s eyes are the color of wet mud swirled with ink. And his jaw is slightly rounder.

“You stayed here last night with my son.” It’s not a question as his judgmental gaze roves over me. “I suppose a little fun never hurt anyone.”

“That’s not what this is.” My teeth clench.

“I know a thing or two about you, Mila. You’re smart.

You’ve got potential .” Something about how he drags out the word doesn’t make it sound like a compliment.

“But make no mistake. Whatever is happening between you and my son isn’t the fairytale you’re concocting in your pretty little head.

He doesn’t end up with the girl from the circus. ”

“It’s a carnival.”

“It’s irrelevant.” Gideon steps closer. “You are a whim he’s chasing. The sooner you understand that, the better for everyone. Enjoy whatever my son finds appropriate to give you for now. But you do not end up with him.”

“That’s not your decision to make.”

He hums. “I’m sure you would like to think that.”

My eyes narrow, and his do the same.

But I don’t let him see the doubts swirling in my mind.

I stand as still as I can, stopping my fingers from fidgeting.

Gideon thinks I’m nothing more than carnival trash.

Not worth anything more than the entertainment I provide them.

But I refuse to let him see that it stings.

He hasn’t earned my embarrassment. And unlike the insecure girl I once was, I don’t feel ashamed of where I came from anymore.

Remi taught me better.

Footsteps echo against the marble floor, finally breaking our ice-cold staring contest.

Gideon steps back with a glance over my shoulder.

And I turn enough to see Alex walking toward us.

His white T-shirt stretches over his shoulders, and his jeans hug his legs.

He has his hands tucked in his pockets, like usual.

Except this time, when he reaches me, he pulls one hand out to tug me to his side.

It’s unusually affectionate for us not being alone.

Alex doesn’t look at me. His eyes are fixed on his father’s.

“I was just saying hello to your friend ,” Gideon muses, his tone biting at the end.

When I tense, Alex’s fingers clutch my hip tighter, like he’s finding a way to put me at ease.

Alex stares at his father, remaining silent like he was when we visited his mother. His face doesn’t so much as flinch at Gideon’s comment, which only seems to annoy his father. There’s a long beat of silence before Gideon breaks it.

“Your mother wants to see you for dinner Sunday. I told her you would be there. We need to discuss a few things, as I’m sure you’ve guessed.” Gideon’s gaze skips from Alex to me, then back again. “I’ll leave you to your friend. See you this weekend, son.”

Gideon turns to leave, and there’s no warmth to the final smile he offers. It’s more of a warning than anything. And when the door closes behind Alex’s dad, the message is clear.

I’m not good enough for their son.