Page 7 of Her Wicked Knights (Their Hallowed Queen #3)

Rev

Tripp rolls his eyes as a group of girls pass us by, giggling to themselves without trying to hide how obviously they're checking us out.

"What?" I laugh, unable to hide the grin as I turn to see him staring dispassionately at the one who deliberately made eye contact with him as she turned around.

"You're insufferable." he shakes his head, letting out a soft sigh. "Did you hear what the one in red said as she passed?"

"No," I lie, watching his face as he rolls his eyes again. I heard him, but I absolutely want to hear him repeat what she said.

"She said she wants to dip you in honey and lick you clean." Realizing how absurd it is, he laughs and launches a piece of popcorn at my head. "You love the attention, don't you?"

I shrug, not wanting to lie to him. I do like the attention.

It's the only thing that makes me feel complete.

.. the only thing that feeds the hole in my life.

Whatever it is that's missing, the attention of a girl (or guy) who is willing to help me find release eases the ache for a little while.

I'm no therapist, but it's probably something to do with my lack of a mother or my miserable excuse for a father.

"Maybe I should go give her my number." I say, glancing back to where the girls have disappeared through the crowd into one of the theaters. They're probably here for a rom-com.

We drove an hour out of town to go to the release of this movie— a movie I know nothing about.

But I lied to Tripp, convinced him that I was actually a big fan of sci-fi movies, and now we're here, settling into our seats in the crowded theater.

I offered Colton to join us, but he was less than enthusiastic in his dismissal, and I'm not entirely sad about having the time with Tripp alone.

"She can be your Thursday girl." Tripp says, glancing at his phone before sliding it into the cup holder.

"Thursdays are for the guys." I tell him with a grin.

In truth, I don't have someone in my bed every night, and I don't relegate the guys to a certain day of the week.

I take what I can get when I can get it— which is, admittedly, often.

There's something to be said for faking it ‘til you make it.

I learned long ago to pretend I always knew what I was talking about, to pretend that I was confident and self-assured.

And I think somewhere along the way, by pretending, it kind of became a habit.

Except, it's not a habit when it comes to him.

Tripp makes me nervous, and I'll never admit that to him lest it ruin this friendship we have. I'll risk almost anything when I want something, but there are exceptions and limitations to what I'll do, the lengths I'll go to, the relationships I will sacrifice.

"Well, thank you for giving them up tonight to be here." Tripp grins, the right side of his mouth lifting higher than the left.

"Are you kidding?" I laugh. "I love Michael Bay."

His nose scrunched as he appraises me, and then the smirk in the corner of his lips deepens. "This isn't a Michael Bay film."

"No?" I muse, glancing up at the screen, which is set on a preview of another movie. "Well, there's no one I'd rather see a not-Michael Bay film with."

"I know there's at least one," he laughs. "But it's fine. I'm not the jealous type."

I don't bother correcting him or calling him out on that lie when the lights dim further.

Some girl in front of us chooses that exact moment to laugh loudly enough that it eclipses the introductory music.

Just a laugh would be one thing, but it turns to a squeal, followed by more laughter.

Tripp takes the opportunity to lob another piece of popcorn, and I catch the back of the girl's head with an M&M as the guy next to her pulls her in for a tentative kiss.

Just as the movie begins, the screen lights up enough to let me see the girl in better detail— her red hair in the guys' fingers as she kisses him back. I'm too stunned to speak, and a glance at Tripp confirms everything I think I'm seeing.

"Down in front!" Someone yells, tossing an empty water bottle toward them.

Audrey yelps, covering her head as the bottle ricochets off the seat in front of her. I grab Tripp by the collar as Jake turns around, and before he can get a good look at us, I press my mouth to his.

He tastes like salt and butter as I devour him, refusing to let go in case Jake were to spot us.

If I'm honest, that's not the reason I refuse to let go. It's not the reason I kiss him a moment longer than necessary.

I don't let him up for air until a glance out of the corner of my eye assures me Jake has turned back around to face the movie screen, which has begun playing the introductory credits sequence.

I only let myself look at Tripp for a minute after I release him, afraid to see hatred or disgust in his eyes, but needing to know whether I can push him further or whether I should back off.

There isn't hatred or disgust when I meet his soft brown eyes, though. All I see there is confusion, maybe a little fear judging by the way his pupils are dilated, his chest heaving. Fear or arousal, but it's too much to hope that it's the latter.

I pluck a piece of popcorn from the top of the bucket and slip it past his parted lips, watching as he realizes he's staring at me and promptly snaps his mouth closed. I chuckle, turning to the screen with a lot less indifference than I'm letting on.

He stares at me for a moment, his eyes burning into the side of my face, but I don't dare look at him, trying to focus on the film.

When the intro music ends and the theater quiets down, he finally tears his eyes from me, looking ahead to the movie.

We don't speak again until we're in my car after the movie, the quiet too loud before I get a chance to put any music on. It's Tripp who breaks the silence.

"So... should we tell anyone what happened?"

I turn in surprise, to find him watching me thoughtfully. He wants to tell people?

"If you want, yeah." I swallow my nerves. "I mean, I've wanted this for a while."

He frowns, the line between his brows creasing. "You've wanted to catch Jake and Audrey cheating? You knew?"

"Oh," I rub my chin, nodding. Of course he's talking about that. "I mean, I suspected. They always seemed so chummy."

"Right." He nods. "We have to tell Marley, right?"

"Of course." My throat feels dry, so I reach for the soda I dropped into the center console when we first got in. "Yeah, it's only right. Right?"

To be honest, I don't know if telling Marley is the right thing to do or not. The better thing would probably be to confront Jake and Audrey and make them tell Marley themselves, but I can't imagine them doing that. This is the next best solution.

"Right." Tripp nods. "Should I text her?"

"No." I answer that one with certainty. "No, that's not the kind of thing we should reveal in a text. We'll just have to... get her alone to let her know."

"She's never alone." Tripp rolls his eyes.

I nod idly as I pull out onto the highway, letting my brain work through all the implications of tonight as the black pavement unfurls before me.

The roads are slow tonight, without a lot of people around.

It's nice, so I find myself picking up speed, driving faster as I shift gears and punch on the gas.

I don't even realize I never turned the radio on, the hum of the engine serving as the only sound in the small car for the majority of the way home.

It's not until I pull in his driveway that Tripp turns to me, mustering a smile. "Everything okay?"

"Of course." I grin, waving a hand at him. I glance at Marley's house, which is dark. They didn't even leave a porch light on while they went out of town for the weekend to visit Hadley. "Let her enjoy her weekend with her sister. We'll tell her later at school."

Tripp nods, pursing his lips together. I can tell he wants to say something more, but whatever it is, he pushes it down and nods.

He's already out of the car with the door shut when he turns around to lean on the open window.

"Thank you." He says, roving my face like he can find some sort of explanation on it without having to ask for one.

"For tonight." He clears his throat. "It meant a lot to me. You mean a lot to me."

"Yeah," I grin, "Me too."

His tongue flicks out to smooth over his lips, and I wait for whatever he's about to hit me with, but it never comes.

Instead, he nods, taps the window frame with a hand, and then lifts his hand in farewell as he turns to go.

He leaves me alone with my humiliation, and I can't stand it.

I back out of his driveway fast, like maybe that will keep it from following me home.

It doesn't.