Page 12 of Nothing to Fear (Wicked Games #1)

Silas

A sher’s laugh bellows out around us, echoing off the old stone walls of the archives.

The resulting smile on my face is natural and unrestrained, and it feels so damn good.

Leaving him in the archives at the beginning of the week after he was clearly trying to joke with me, when we were opening up to each other and bridging the gap of all the shit I’ve forced between us, was next-level douchery.

I had expected him to be done with me completely.

I’d deserve it. But instead of pushing me away, he picked up like nothing had happened at all, covered for me in Professor Thorne’s class, and is here now like I haven’t been a dick the last three years.

I want to prove to him that I can do this, work on letting myself relax and not allowing every little thing to get to me, while also prioritizing my academic well-being.

I’ve spent so long hiding behind this asshole persona that I’ve almost forgotten who I am at my core.

I’ve started to like who I am when I’m around Asher.

I don’t want to live like that anymore. Which is why I got my ass up at the crack of dawn and showed up to class when everything inside me was telling me to go back to sleep and skip, and why I’ve vowed to myself not to be late to any of our sessions.

I’m not doing it just for Asher, but fate has twisted and pulled and tied me to him, giving me an extra reason to focus on the things that matter.

“Okay, how the hell did you end up having to run bare-assed to your car?”

“It was during homecoming, and the cheerleaders pulled a prank, snuck into the locker room while we were on the field to steal all our shit. Guess who was the only dumbass who left his locker unlocked?”

“No frigging way, man! How didn’t you get expelled?”

“I had to wait in the locker room until everyone had left. The guys thought it was hilarious, and no one would give me anything to cover up. Since I didn’t want to put my sweaty jockstrap and shorts back on, I used a small hand towel to cover my junk and bolted into the night.”

“Damn, that’s a sight I’d like to see,” Asher says as he laughs. My smile fades quickly, replaced by heat instantly flaming my cheeks. “I don’t mean it like that, man, I just meant the prank.”

“Yeah, totally. I know,” I stutter, playing it off. Even though the idea of Asher wanting to see me buck-ass naked makes me feel hot and bothered.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” he asks for clarification.

“Any good stories you want to share?”

“Nah, I’m pretty boring. I’ve always been a bookworm, constantly studying and working hard.”

“Do you leave any time for fun?”

“Yeah, I mean, I have a good time. But overall, I try to keep my focus on getting my degree and returning to Boston with my family. ”

“You all are close?”

“We are. I miss them. I go home every few weeks, but we’re all so close, so not seeing them every week is always a bummer.”

“I don’t know what that’s like. My parents shipped me off to boarding school as soon as they could.

I’ve always had to be independent. Never really had anyone I’m too close to,” I tell him honestly.

Talking to Asher comes so easily when I’m relaxed.

It’s everything else that is overly complicated for me.

My mind starts to drift, remembering the encompassing feeling of loneliness that engulfed me while away for the first time, how I begged my parents to let me come home.

Soft warmth surrounds my hand, pulling me from the unwanted memories plaguing me. The spot heats immediately, and I have to work hard to steady my breathing.

“You with me?” Asher’s voice is calming, sweet, and smooth like melted butter. I study his eyes, dark chocolate brown, so severe against his features that they should be terrifying. They pull me in like a storm, claiming everything in its wake. “Where’d you just go?”

I shake my head, clearing it of the past and focusing on the spot where Asher’s hand rests over mine.

“Anything you want to do before we graduate?” I ask out of nowhere. Just pure curiosity.

He promptly releases my hand as he answers, and I miss his touch immediately.

“Explore the cemetery.”

That shouldn’t surprise me, considering the things Asher studies, but I don’t know anyone who’s brave enough to attempt to get into the Corvus Cemetery.

The burial ground hasn’t been used in over two centuries, its gate having no entrance.

It’s without a doubt haunted, and the rumor is that the gate is protected with old magic, but we don’t know if it’s to keep us out or something else in.

I’m sure it’s all myths and legends that have been passed down and twisted to keep curious students in line and prevent them from disturbing history.

“That tracks. Have you gotten close?”

“Heard there was a tunnel below the school that leads to a mausoleum in the center of the cemetery, but I haven’t found it yet.”

I don’t know why I say it, but the words are out of my mouth before I realize I’ve even thought them. “You interested in trying again? I bet we could find it together.”

Asher’s eyes squint, the near-onyx pupils burning into me as he studies my face.

“Yeah. Yeah, I want to do that.”

I card my fingers through my hair, nodding and trying to hold back a cheesy-ass smile.

“Okay, yeah. Let’s do it then. Tell me everything you know, and we’ll go from there.”

“This should be right up your alley with your major. I should be letting you lead this hunt. After all, you found the archives,” he says with utmost confidence and not a shred of doubt.

I don’t know where it comes from since he is fully aware of my grade situation.

“You had to have retained some shit over the last three years in that jock brain of yours, right?”

“I mean, yeah. I love this kind of stuff. Where do you want to start?”

Asher stands, lightly grabbing my elbow and pulling me up to follow.

Tingles shoot through my body as I meet those obsidian eyes looking over my face.

He ponders something for a moment, his head clearly swirling, thinking something through before nodding, a half-smile on his face that makes my heart light up like a goddamn star.

My eyes trace along Asher’s side profile, his strong, chiseled jaw, the hard lines of his chin that juts out slightly, the ridge of his nose. My hands twitch at my sides, and I quickly shove them in my pockets before I do something stupid. Like reach out and touch him.

Instead of spending the next few hours studying like we should be, Asher and I dig into the archives, pulling out books and maps, looking for any detail or clue that would get us into the Corvus Cemetery.

We work together well, like two people who have moved around each other and known each other their entire lives.

The world is hustling and moving forward above us, but Asher and I are able to exist in a little world where I’m just me and he’s just him.

It’s how I imagined things would be between us if I hadn’t shoved my head so far up my own ass freshman year.

Comfortable silence stretches between us, and I feel more myself than I have in a long, long time.

The week passed in a blur of studying with Asher, classes, and rugby practice. By Friday, I’ve started to find a routine. The days that I don’t have tutoring seem to drag the longest, falling into bed after practice, exhausted and defeated.

Time slows while down in the archives with Asher. The heavy scent of aging paper, dust, and burning flame surrounds us while we get lost in books; sometimes, the only sound is the quiet hum of breathing between us.

I find myself wanting to be in the chilly, dark archives surrounded by old tomes more than I want to be anywhere else.

We seem to have found a place of mutual understanding, where we’ve become friends.

The only friend I have that doesn’t pressure me to be anyone but who I am.

Even if Asher is just as clueless as everyone else at Corvus as to who I really am .

Lies.

Asher gets the more authentic version of me than anyone else behind these gates ever has.

I walk into the dining hall for lunch, starving, my eyes skimming the area for Asher, not that we’ve ever eaten together before, but maybe there’s a first time for everything? We’re friends, right?

I can’t hide the smile that pulls at my lips as I spot him, taking him in. He’s wearing a white lab coat, and from here, it doesn’t look like there’s anything underneath. I laugh under my breath, wondering why the hell he’s in the dining hall dressed in a costume.

My mouth waters at the sight of him, my mind whirling with wonder.

I quickly grab my meal—a turkey sandwich, side salad, sweet potato wedges, and a blue electrolyte drink—and turn back to face him.

His black hair is styled wild, as if he used paste and ran his hands through the strands so it stuck up in random places.

Black eye makeup lines his already dark features, making him look even more intense and terrifying.

We hold each other’s stare, the tension between us pulling taut.

Voices filter through the air, blending into each other as Asher and I stay locked in this web where only we exist. Bodies fade to black around me, the October sunlight filtering in through the stained glass windows of the dining hall, shining over the dark features of his face.

I watch as he leans back against a wall, his arms crossed over his chest, the epitome of carelessness and ease.

My feet are moving before I realize it, before I can check myself and where we are.

Right now, my body operates on autopilot, as if caught in a gravitational pull; I’m sucked right into the center.

My eyes don’t leave his, and I clock the moment his face flashes with surprise. That’s right, loser, I’m trying here. He didn’t expect me to approach him, and that gives me a boost of confidence. A part of me preens knowing I surprised him.