Glass Heart Savage - Lindsey Iler Page 0,22

over my shoulder and step into the hallway. I watch her for a beat, curious what has her trusting me still. There’s been a silent shift between us. I’m not sure I like it.

“No rush. I’ll get comfortable in here.” She sits on the edge of the bed, her hair a mess from our little tryst.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I come chest-to-chest with Byron at the bottom of them. His jaw is tightly set.

“What’s up, man? Where did you disappear to? You’ve never dipped out in the middle.” I smack his chest jokingly, as I pass him to sit at the kitchen island.

He turns and steps back into me. “What the fuck was that all about?”

“What are you talking about?” I grab an apple from the dish in the middle that’s always filled with fresh fruit, even though none of us grocery shop.

“You fucked her like a delicate flower,” he sneers.

“No, I didn’t. Is that why you bailed?” I bite into the crisp fruit, the juice hitting my tongue.

“I don’t usually like to be the third wheel in a threesome, and that’s exactly what went down. You two might as well have said I love you while you drilled into her.”

“You’re fucking with me, right?” I scoff, grinning to make him mad. Nothing pisses Byron off more than when he’s being serious, and one of us can’t find the urgency to match his.

“You know that can’t happen. There’s too much at stake.” He points at me. “Remember that. She is a play toy, a means to an end. No room for feelings.”

I hold my hands up. “Yeah, bro, I got it. No feelings here.” That’s a fucking lie. There’s something. I just don’t know what it is.

Byron leaves me in the middle of the kitchen. Only the pendant lights above the island are illuminated, giving me a perfect view out of the glass wall down to the campus below.

Kings in their castle, simply waiting to be taken down. A fallen queen with a sister left behind.

You don’t know what you have until you want more. Palmer makes me believe there is more out there in the world than this life. She isn’t mine, though. Like Byron said, no room for feelings.

So, why the sudden sense of urgency to get back to her?

Hidden in plain sight, I stand in the shadows, watching her among my pillows and blanket. She holds the remote and flips through the channels, wearing my black sweatpants and my white t-shirt. Comfortable is what she is.

For tonight, she can be exactly that. She can sink into my pillows and kiss me like I’m here for the taking.

“What are you doing out there? I can hear you breathing.” Palmer glances at the doorway, only to direct her attention back to the television. Her long brown hair cascades over her shoulder, and she twists it into a long braid, securing it with a rubber band from my bedside table.

I stalk forward, resting my hands on the bed for leverage, and kiss her like she’s my girlfriend.

“You look sexy as fuck in my bed, Palmer Weston.” I bite my lip, giving her everything I have inside of me that screams I’m here to take care of you.

“Why, thank you, Marek Hawthorne.” She cups my cheek and I fall into the mattress with her tucked into my side.

This is what I’ll never have, and fuck, if that doesn’t make me murderous.

Byron is right. Kind of, at least. Feeling Palmer all over me is different than the other times before. Faceless and nameless girls is my usual appetite.

Now that I’ve tasted perfection, I’m not sure I can go back feeling satisfied.

Chapter Five

Palmer

Every bone and muscle in my body screams with a dull ache I don’t recognize. I’m certain I’m not in my dorm room. My hand runs over the luxurious fabric covering the mattress. The smell of leather and orange blossom surrounds me.

I wake fully and look down at the dark gray linens underneath me, shocked by the influx of memories from last night. An image of Byron, holding tight to my face, kissing me, touching me in places I should have never allowed him to, slithers into my mind. Marek between my legs, admiring me. I am not naïve enough to believe I can wake up this morning, and everything will go back to normal.

Nothing about last night is normal. In fact, if I were to guess, this is the shit that gets a girl committed. This doesn’t

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