Page 16 of Shadows Within (Millhaven #1)
Scarlett
Tonight, I need to relax. I’ve been so busy with exams and boxing that I haven’t taken any time to unwind.
I paint my toenails bright red, the lamp on my bedside table casting just enough light that I can see each coat I apply.
Cigarette’s After Sex plays in my headphones and almost instantly, everything else that’s going on in my head tries to fade.
Usually, I enjoy stillness and quiet, but tonight the lack of noise made me anxious.
I needed something to distract me, hence the toenail painting.
I chew the inside of my cheek as the polish brush flattens against my pinky toenail.
I twist the lid back onto the glass nail polish bottle and open my bedside table drawer, pulling out some Sour Patch Kids gummies.
I pop them in my mouth, one at a time— yellow, red, orange, green, and blue.
The order must stay the same. It’s something I do when I’m anxious.
Seven years ago, when I was sixteen, I read that eating something sour helps with feeling anxious, and it’s always stuck.
My phone buzzes and the screen lights up on my desk. I carefully try to keep my toes separated and reach over to grab it.
Callum: You going?
No context. I know that he’s talking about the party at the Bronsen brother’s tonight. My thumb hovers over the screen and a hundred snarky remarks pop into my head.
Scarlett: Didn’t think you cared.
Delete.
Scarlett: Why?
Delete.
I sigh and place the phone beside me, on the bed. I don’t need to reply right away. My chest tightens in a familiar way. My phone buzzes again.
Sophia: I’m coming over.
I’m not going out tonight. I already said no to Sophia. She can come over and get ready for the party, but I plan to stay home and watch a movie.
Scarlett: Sure, but I’m not going with you.
Sophia: ;)
Ten minutes later, Sophia bursts open my bedroom door.
“Hey Scar. Where’s Jake?”
It’s not unusual for her to do this. We often show up at each other’s houses on the weekends, but something about tonight feels different.
“My toenails are wet!” I yell as she jumps onto my bed.
“Oh, cute color. Are you doing your fingernails to match?” She grabs my hands and examines them.
“Nah, I’ve been boxing too much lately. They’ll just come right off. Maybe you can do them next week?” Sophia is the best at painting nails.
My phone buzzes again.
Callum: It’s rude to ignore people.
I snort. It’s rude for him to assume I’m not busy. Sophia raises her eyebrows.
“Who is that?”
I try not to make eye contact with her.
“No one.”
“Um, Scar! I can tell by your face it’s not no one!” She moves closer.
“Fine, I’ll tell you, but I don’t want you to freak out.”
She smiles and stares at me, waiting impatiently.
“It’s Callum Mercer, but it isn’t anything and I don’t want you to get weird about it.”
She lets out a small yelp.
“Tell me everything!”
“I don’t know what it is yet, so please, let’s drop it.”
“Okay, but it’s more of a reason to come with me tonight.” She sighs.
“I don’t want to deal with everyone tonight. Plus, those parties can be so annoying.” I roll my eyes with my phone in hand, unsure if I’m going to reply yet.
“Well, I think you should. You can come with me and then we can say hi to your hot little problem.” She smirks.
“Ew, do not call him that. He’s not my problem.” I nudge her side.
“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” She won’t let that one slide past her.
“Of course, I think he’s hot. Have you seen him? He’s not just hot, he’s gorgeous.” I look down at my phone.
“Oh honey, you’re so done for.” She rests her head on my shoulder.
“Stop it, I am not!” I yell.
She jumps off my bed and walks over to my closet.
“I’m not even going to force you to put something fancy on, just jeans and a shirt. Come on… please?” She pulls out a beige tank top and throws it onto my bed.
I grab the top, dig my favourite pair of jeans out from the hamper, and change. From my closet, I pull out a pair of black heel boots and show them to Sophia, asking for her approval.
“Yes!” She screams.
“Jeez, calm down.” I laugh as I sit on the edge of my bed and slip them onto my feet. “I’m not staying for long.”
“We’ll see about that.” Before we leave, she fixes her makeup in the mirror that sits on my dresser. I text Dad that I’m headed out and shove my phone into my clutch.
As we pull into the Bronsen brother’s long driveway, my stomach tightens. I hear music before I even get out.
“Good God. I already have a headache.” I look to Sophia and push the door open.
I get out of the passenger seat and glance at the house. Expensive looking lights line the walkway to the front door.
“You look hot. How long do you think before he comes over to you?” Sophia asks as we walk toward the back of the house.
“I’m not here for him.” The denial seeps out of my mouth.
Sophia gives me a sassy side glare.
“Mhm. Sure.”
As we enter, the back porch is overflowing with students. Sophia greets people she knows, and I trail behind her. My eyes scan the room as we step into the house. I don’t mean to look for him, but I am.
And then I see him.
He leans against a taupe-coloured wall with a drink in his hand. His dark eyes land on mine, like he’s been waiting to see me all night.
I look away.
Someone drags Sophia into the kitchen, and she disappears into the crowd of familiar faces. I stay behind and trace the edges of the room with my eyes—anything to keep me from looking back at him.
My skin feels warm, too warm. I need a drink that I won’t sip, or a dark corner to disappear to. Instead, I slip between the crowd and down a hallway, toward the back of the house. The walls feel smaller, almost like they buffer some of the noise.
I feel his presence before I see him.
I turn around and Callum stands behind me, leaning against the wall, like he’s been here the entire time.
“Were you going to say hi to me?” He asks with his low voice.
“Not everything is about you, Callum.” I cross my arms.
He pushes off the wall, calmly but with tension at the same time.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
I hate how he makes me feel so uneasy and safe all at once.
“Why are you always around?” Our eyes meet. “Why this... sudden pull to each other?”
“I got tired of fighting it.” His answer is soft but raw. The silence that follows feels louder than the music that blares through the house.
I blink; my throat is heavy. I swallow and gaze at him like I’m going to say something, but I don’t. Instead, my eyes focus on his lips.
His eyes pierce mine. He inches closer and grabs my neck, sliding his warm hands to the base of my skull, and cradles my head with enough force that allows me to stay locked on his eyes.
“I tried to stop wanting you.” He steps even closer, our bodies barely touching. “I failed.” Our eyes dance together in a familiar way. The tension builds.
His lips crash onto mine. The kiss is hard and uninviting, but not unwanted.
My body tenses as he steals the breath from my lungs.
He devours my mouth, forcing our tongues to meet.
There’s nothing fragile about it. His hands make their way into my hair and my chest heaves, in need of air while I give into him.
My hands find his hair like they belong there.
He pulls me closer, and my chest presses into him.
His mouth is fire and control—too much and not enough.
The cold wall cools my back as he presses me against it.
His warm hands move down to my hips, claiming them.
I let him. His wet lips move toward my jaw, slow and deliberate, like he is mapping my skin with his mouth.
My hands slide to the collar of his shirt.
I tug on him, hard. He lets out a low, rough moan, as if his last shred of patience has snapped.
His mouth lands onto mine again, hungrier than before. I feel him in every inch of my body—the rush, the ache. I should pull away, but I press closer into him. Before I let myself become consumed by him, I stop.
I pull back and look at him, reminding myself of where we are and who we are— two people with opposite lives that aren’t supposed to be together. I don’t say anything. I don’t have to.
I slip down the hall, back to the party. My lips still burn from him. Regret fills the pit of my stomach. I hate the way he kisses me like he already owns my body.