Crush (Crave #2) - Tracy Wolff Page 0,13

He smiles back. “Definitely.”

“Oh, and for some reason, I’ve lost my phone. Meet back here?”

He nods, then gives me another little wave and heads out of my room and down the hallway toward the stairs.

I watch him go, admiring the way he walks, full of purpose and confidence and a come-at-me-at-your-own-risk insouciance that shouldn’t do it for me but somehow totally does. Also, I am completely admiring the hell out of what his very nice ass does for those boring black uniform pants.

Once Jaxon starts to go around the corner, I step back into my room, then kind of pause as he turns to look down the hall at me. He’s got a huge grin on his face now, and it looks good on him. As do the crinkles by the corners of his eyes and the lightness that seems to cover his whole face.

The grin fades just a little as our eyes meet—almost like he’s embarrassed to be caught looking so happy—but it’s too late. I’ve gotten a glimpse at what Jaxon Vega looks like when he’s beaming, and it turns out I like it. I really, really like it.

The anxiety in the pit of my stomach dissolves as easily as it came, and suddenly it’s the easiest thing in the world to blow him the kiss I couldn’t give him earlier. His eyes widen at the gesture and, while he doesn’t do anything as corny as reaching out to grab it, he does wink at me.

I’m laughing as I close my door and head for the shower. How can I not when the Jaxon Vega I get to see is a million times sweeter and more charming than the one the world knows?

But as I turn on the water, a chill works its way through me. Because if it turns out I let Hudson escape, if it turns out I really did bring him back with me, then I’ll be the one responsible for hurting Jaxon and taking away his happiness.

No way am I going to let that happen to him. Not now. Not ever again.

9

Livin’ on a

Hope-Induced

Hallucination

Three shampoos and two full-body scrubs later, I finally feel like a new woman. One who might not turn into a hulking stone monster at the least provocation. I wrap myself and my hair up in towels (hot pink, of course—thank you, Macy) and reach for my phone to check the time.

Which I can’t do because I don’t have a phone. Ugh.

Also, since there is no clock in the room and I don’t have a phone, I’m feeling pretty grumpy as I slap moisturizer on my face and start to dry my hair.

The sad fact is, I’m going to have to get on this no-phone thing sooner rather than later. Partly because my entire life is on my phone and partly because I really, really need to text Heather. I can’t even imagine what my best friend is thinking right now—except, of course, that I ghosted her for absolutely no reason.

Thankfully, my electronics are the only things missing. My backpack was apparently with me the entire time, and my school uniforms are right where I left them—in my closet. I take a minute to re-bandage my hurt fingers, then grab a black skirt and purple polo from my closet. I add a pair of black tights and my school boots, pause to slick a little lip gloss on my lips and mascara on my lashes, then grab my backpack and head for the door.

I don’t know what time it is exactly, but Jaxon left here around noon. Which means I should have plenty of time to make my one o’clock class: Mystical Architecture.

I have no idea what kind of class this is, but the truth is I’m excited about it. Even though there’s a part of me that wonders if I am now enrolled in it because I’m apparently a living, breathing example of mystical architecture.

Deciding not to dwell on the fact that I might be part of the props, I throw open my door and book it down the long dorm hallway, with its decorated doors and black sconces in the shape of different dragons. As always, I giggle a little as I pass the door decorated with bats.

The first day I got to Katmere, I assumed the room belonged to a Batman aficionado and thought it was the coolest. Now I know it’s a vampire joke à la Jaxon’s best friend, Mekhi, and I love it even more.

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