Page 85 of Wicked Dove

“Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?”

My gaze snaps to Ocean, who peers at me from across the room.

“What do you think you’re seeing?” I ask, still in disbelief.

“A phone?” I nod, my eyes widen, and she leans up on her elbow to meet my gaze. “To clarify, was that there when you woke up?”

“Yes.”

“But it wasn’t there when you fell asleep.”

“No,” I confirm, and she snickers.

“So they broke into our room to gift you a cell phone that you need to hook up to your camera so you can see who is breakingin? With the chances of that said person being the one who left you the cell phone to begin with?”

Her questions hang in the air as I exhale slowly, shaking my head again. “Exactly that,” I breathe, and she cackles, flopping back on her bed with a sigh.

“Did you have fun last night?” she asks, staring up at the ceiling.

“Surprisingly, yes,” I admit, forgoing the extracurricular activities that took place on Kael’s bike, and thankfully, she doesn’t pry for more.

“Rion didn’t shut up about you all the way home,” she states, and I fail to control the blush that creeps over my cheeks.

“That seems unlikely.”

“I swear it. He was a straight-up chatter box,” she insists as I tuck a loose curl behind my ear.

“I’m sure if he were that bad, Thorne would have made him shut up,” I grumble, and she turns to look at me.

“Thorne wasn’t there. He left immediately after you guys did, something about keeping an eye on things.”

I still, my veins warming at the memory of eyes in the shadows last night, and my chest churns. I was right, I know it in my soul. He was there, he was watching.

Damn.

I like that too much.

“So, what’s the plan for today since I’m not making a run for it?” I ask, desperate to redirect my thoughts before I get lost in them again.

“I don’t know if I have one,” she answers with a shrug. “Although, we could go to the gym,” she offers, and I gape at her.

“You mean… exercise by choice?”

The only time I’ve ever seen someone run that wasn’t in track at school was from the police, or their dealer, or their violent partner. Never by choice.

“Yeah, we can shake off our endorphins, then we can eat tubs of ice cream and watch television for the rest of the day,” she offers, and I half consider it. After Professor Drayker’s lesson, I know I need to work on my strength and endurance if I have any hope of surviving this place.

“That almost sounds exciting,” I admit, and she perks up, beaming at me.

“Are you in?”

“Do I get to choose the show?” I push, and she giggles.

“If it means you’ll say yes, then absolutely.”

I grin back at her. “Honestly, you already had me at ice cream.”

Sweat clings to me everywhere.Literally everywhere. Even in places where sweat shouldn’t exist. My tank top sticks to me despite its oversized design, and my chest is flushed from all of the exercise.