Fuck, Sora

Sora

The elevator dings open before a witty retort or better yet an objection can leave my mouth and just like that the moment shatters.

Miraculously, bubbly Kade is back, looking entirely too pleased with himself for a man who just confessed to wanting me.

“Welcome to my home, Shadow,” he says as he sweeps an exaggerated arm toward the hallway beyond the elevator. “Kind of sorry it’s empty right now, as you know I just got back into town.”

“So we are just going to pretend the elevator didn’t happen?” I ask, watching him carefully.

“Leave the things that happen in the elevator in the elevator,” he replies easily like it means absolutely nothing before disappearing through the door beside the hallway.

I linger there for a moment caught between following him and standing around uselessly before he returns with two glasses of orange juice. He hands one to me and I eye it warily.

“Don’t worry, it’s not drugged,” he says and to prove it he takes a sip from both glasses, lifting his chin slightly. “See.”

I roll my eyes so hard it feels like I might see my sockets but I still take the glass from his right hand.

“Don’t change the subject,” I say pointing it at him. “What was all that nonsense in the elevator?”

“Sora,” he starts exhaling like I am already exhausting him. “Not everything has to have an explanation. Why are you being difficult?”

I set the glass down as something sharp and unfamiliar buzzes under my skin because how am I being difficult? He was the one who begged me to be his fake girlfriend and barely two hours into this arrangement he is suddenly confessing things like he actually means them and somehow I am the problem.

A laugh slips out of me before I can stop it because this fucking bastard, it really is a thing with the Blacks, being unbelievably dense.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Kade Black, you’ve got to—”

I cut myself off when I notice him pulling his shirt off, revealing blacked out tattoos across his chest and just as I expected full sleeves inked down his right arm. His body is lean and defined in a way that becomes impossible to ignore once he is no longer fully dressed and for a second my brain completely forgets what it was doing.

Suddenly my throat is drier than the Sahara and another part of my body seems to be an oasis.

I grab the glass again and take a large gulp but nearly choke the moment he stretches, the movement pulling attention to his frame in a way that is unfairly distracting especially that V line that should honestly be illegal.

Juice goes down the wrong way and I cough violently spilling it from my mouth and nose onto my shirt.

When I finally manage to breathe again I look up just in time to see Kade turning toward me.

“You need to get changed,” he says calmly.

I glare at him through the sting still lingering in my nose wiping at my shirt like it will somehow undo the fact that I just nearly died over orange juice in front of him.

“I’m fine,” I snap though the cough still scratches my throat. “It’s just juice.”

He doesn’t look convinced, he just tilts his head slightly eyes flicking over me like he is assessing damage he didn’t intend to cause but also isn’t particularly sorry about.

“Come on,” he says already turning away.

I hesitate for half a second before following him because I really do not want to stand here dripping and pathetic while he walks around looking annoyingly composed.

He leads me down a short corridor and opens a door stepping aside so I can walk in first.

It’s a barely decorated but properly arranged bedroom and he walks straight to a drawer pulls it open and throws something at me without looking.

I catch the fabric he’s thrown at me and when I open it I see a Batman logo in the middle.

I’m actually impressed that he had time to do a bit of organizing in such a short period of time and it strikes me that he doesn’t really feel like the type who should own something like this.

“Bathroom’s there,” he says nodding toward an attached door. “Change.”

I stare at him. “Used to think guys cherished their clothes yet here you are giving a random girl yours.”

His mouth twitches like he almost smiles but decides against it.

“You’re not random,” he says simply.

Before I can respond he turns slightly away like he hasn’t been dropping bombshells all evening and I hate that it leaves something hanging in my chest.

I head into the bathroom because nothing a fresh set of clothes and water can’t fix.

It takes longer than it should, partly because it slowly dawns on me how wrong today has been. I just wanted to protect my best friend, so how did that turn into this.

I haven’t even checked my phone and God, the school headlines will be fucking chewing me out by now. I can already see it in my head, “Jealous Best Friend Almost Jeopardizes Engagement.”

This feels sadly like high school all over again.

I look at my reflection in the mirror and nearly jump, my face a mess of mascara streaks and redness from crying I didn’t even realize I was still doing properly. I wash it off and breathe out slowly, forcing myself not to think about tomorrow.

No more thinking about tomorrow.

When I step back out, I am pretending I am okay.

Kade is sitting on the edge of the bed now, elbows resting on his knees, head lifting the moment I appear. His eyes move over me slowly and pause on my legs, and I immediately want to cover up but there is nothing available.

I shift under his gaze. “Can you not?”

He stands and crosses the space between us without hesitation, not fast enough to feel rushed but not slow enough to feel accidental either.

My back hits the edge of the bed before I properly register how close he is.

His hands settle on my waist, gaze dropping to my lips for half a second then shifting to my face then back to my lips.

“Fuck, Sora.”