“We should probably go back to the dorm.”
“Nooo—”
And then the voice message is cut off. Cecily releases a long breath and mutters, “This child, I swear.”
I soundlessly slide behind the sofa as she types something—a reply to her friend’s message in a group chat called ‘Foursome.’
After Ava’s VM, there’s a text from none other than my sister.
Annika:It looks like you guys had so much fun. I’m definitely NOT jealous while I sit in my ivory tower.
I narrow my eyes, but I continue reading.
Glyndon:It wasn’t that much fun. Eli showed up and Ava went off, and yeah, it was a disaster.
Ava:In this house, we don’t speak of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.
Glyndon:@Cecily Knight I wish you had been there to calm her down. You’re the only one who knows how. She wouldn’t stop drinking and playing her cello and crying. I think she’s going to sleep now, though. Where are you, anyway?
Cecily’s expression is aimed downward as she types her reply with fast, elegant fingers.
Cecily:Group study. I’ll be late. Please check on Ava @Glyndon King. Put a bucket by her bed and give her a painkiller. Also, wipe her forehead with a cold towel and make sure her alarm is set. You should go to sleep, too, Glyn, it’s late. Didn’t you say you have an important class tomorrow morning?
Glyndon:Yes, Mum! *salute emoji*
Cecily releases a long breath and I lean over, causing it to get caught before being fully expelled.
“So I’m a group study now?”
She slaps her phone to her chest and slowly glances at me like a character from a horror movie. “Is the concept of privacy foreign to you?”
“Possibly.”
She puffs out an exasperated breath. “I have to go back and check on my friends.”
“They’re adults, and unlike what Glyndon said, you’re not their mother.” I round the sofa and sit beside her.
Cecily scoots up and glues herself to the edge, trying and failing to put some distance between us. I can feel the warmth radiating off her and the hot energy that mirrors mine.
“Don’t,” I grind out.
“W-what?”
“Your nervous energy turns me on, so unless you’re up for riding my cock, tone it down.”
Her ears redden again and she rubs the side of her nose. “What makes you think I’m nervous? Maybe I’m disgusted.”
I know this aggressiveness is a reply to how much coercion I put her through, and usually, I don’t rise to provocations. But then again, my system has never been the same since she came into the picture.
I reach a hand out and she flinches, but I’ve already grabbed her hair and slid her across the old leather sofa that creaks underneath her weight.
Cecily’s eyes widen as I glare down at her. “You seem to have a misconception about certain terms. Should I give you a real reason to be disgusted?”
She purses her lips.
“Answer the fucking question, Cecily. Should I?”
“No.”