35. Chapter Thirty Four

Chapter Thirty Four

Z ipping my bag closed, I sit on the bed, staring blankly at the wall. Garrett and Axel were integral in distracting me last night, but now the truth has hit me. I can't go back home. Possibly for the entire time I'm at Waversea, Nixon seems determined for me not to return to the safety blanket I knew.

Gripping the edge of the mattress, I force back the tears. It's as if Hughes Manor was being held in a protective bubble, just out of reach but always there. Nixon has taken a pin and burst it into pieces, taking the last of my resolve with it. I have no fallback. When the Shadowed Souls have finished having their fun with me, I'll have nowhere to go .

A rap on my door signals it's time to go. I shoulder my bag and slink into the hallway, forcing a false smile for those waiting. Wyatt and Huxley are deep in conversation by the elevator, Garrett and Axel are looking at me like I'm sex on legs and Dax offers to take my bag. I have no fight in me, so I let him.

We settle into the two cars; Wyatt and Garrett in the Nissan, Huxley driving the SUV with Axel up front, and Dax in the back with me. I take comfort in knowing Garrett is going to drive Wyatt crazy all day long. Otherwise, I don't pay much attention to anything aside from the music leaking from the speakers. It's a throwback session on the chosen radio station. It's only when a low flying airplane briefly steals the sunlight does my foot stop tapping and I sit upright.

"Where are we?" I ask, but it's obvious. We turn onto a tarmac strip lined with hangers and a plane landing in the distance.

"Surprise," Huxley catches my gaze, his wide grin and chocolate eyes glinting with excitement. I narrow my eyes but it goes unseen as we enter a hanger. There's a whole team of people waiting for us, most of them uniformed. The car doors are opened and a hand offered for me to step out. I thank the man in his forties, who then moves to the trunk for our bags.

"You chartered a private jet?" I hiss-whisper as Huxley rounds the SUV and slides an arm around my waist. I attribute his touchy-feely vibe to the missed opportunity between us last night, and leave his hand to rest on my hip.

"It's not exactly chartering if you own it," he says beside my ear. I gasp, my eyes turning wide. Huxley owns the jet sitting before us being checked over by a team of people? I look closer now at the man who assisted me a moment ago, noting the logo embroidered onto his purple and yellow uniform. HV. Huxley Vaughn.

Unable to formulate a response, I go through the motions of being led to the metal stairs and guided into the jet. I'm used to Nixon's show of wealth, but somehow knowing all of this belongs to Huxley feels different. He's so young, yet he has it all.

"Why are you even attending Waversea? You could be anywhere in the world, living the dream," I comment whilst running my fingers lightly over the plush leather seats and polished metal accents. The interior is outfitted with first-class-style reclining chairs, a small bar stocked with all types of drinks imaginable, and even a private bedroom visible in the back.

"I suppose my dream isn't the same as most peoples," Huxley tilts his head in thought and then takes an aisle seat. I opt for the one beside him so I can look out of the window .

"What is it then - your dream?"

"I'll let you know when I find it," he replies nonchalantly, but I feel the intensity of his stare at the back of my head. When the heat of his eyes lingers for too long, I look over my shoulder and raise a brow. Huxley chuckles. "You think I'm full of shit don't you?"

All around the seats are filled across a wide table and to our left. Wyatt is quick to kick back his recliner and push a set of headphones into his ears. Up front, the cabin door is closed and the attendants give us privacy.

"No, I just..." I look around at those watching me closer than I realized. Is this some sort of test? "I don't know what could possibly be left to want?" Thankfully, Axel is on drink duty and he slides me a can of soda. Something to busy my hands with as a blush coats my cheeks. "Obviously, you have all the money and power you could ever want. With that comes a lot of female interest. I just don't get what Waversea holds for you."

I also don't get why the thought of Huxley leaving school to be a playboy bothers me. I can see it flashing before my eyes; his sandy blond hair beneath the strobe lighting of a club, a drink in one hand and two girls balanced in his lap. He could easily be the type of guy I can't stand, and even if I don't understand it, I'm extremely grateful he isn't.

We buckle up as the engines roar to life and I allow myself to sink into the leather seat, closing my eyes for a moment to process this sudden change of events. I should be used to the twists and turns of my life by now. Every time I think I'm settled or I know what I'm doing, a curve ball comes and blows me out of the water. I don't realize the silence that has settled until it becomes heavy, and I peek back over at Huxley. His hand is toying with the armrest between us, on the verge of dropping onto my leg but he's holding back.

"Of all people, Little Swan, please don't underestimate me," he says quietly, and I glance up in time to see the flash of vulnerability appear in Huxley's features. "My whole life, people have only cared about my looks, my parents included. I'm always being judged for what I'm wearing or who I'm hanging out with. No one cares to know that my desires run deeper than materialistic things. I want the things money can't buy - experiences and knowledge. I want to be more than a cliché."

I exhale sharply and take Huxley's hand in mine. Shit, I know better than to judge people and I went and did it anyway. Huxley pulls my hand up to kiss the back of it and grins.

"And the adventures this fugly lot take me on aren't something I'd pass up for the world."

"Hey!" Garrett kicks Huxley beneath the table. At his side, Axel rests a soothing hand on Garrett's thigh, but he still pouts. "I'm not fugly."

"You're drop dead gorgeous," Dax reassures him from across the walkway. The following laughter bounces around the plane, cut short by our ascent into the sky. Beyond Huxley and Dax, I catch sight of Wyatt's sleeping form. A frown pulls at my mouth and I turn back to the window before anyone notices. Is he genuinely tired, or is Wyatt taking himself out of the conversation because I'm nearby?

For the first time, I have a niggling feeling that I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be taking Wyatt's friends away from him. It's become apparent they're all he has, and until this past weekend, I didn't care because I knew he didn't deserve them. Now though, I'm starting to see the effects of his withdrawal and I can only imagine the mental turmoil he's going through. His own fault - yes. But still, I'm becoming more and more invested in a place where I don't belong. It's ultimately going to be me or him that stays, and the way my fingers are knotted with Huxley's speaks volumes.

Our plane ride doesn't take more than an hour and a half, and the conversation has long since moved on. The boys discuss politics, news, tv shows, all of which I quietly listen to. Then they talk sports and I tune out completely. Garrett has the flight attendant running back and forth with snacks every five minutes, while Axel plays footsie with me under the table.

Once landed, we're escorted by more of Huxley's staff into two Bentley's. I don't miss how all of the others pile into the rear car, leaving the front one for just Huxley and me. When I question him on it, he simply smiles.

"I've waited patiently for my chance with you. I'm done waiting." My heart flutters at his words so I settle into the backseat and stare out of the window. If I think too much about the large arm thrown over the back of my seat, of the warmth seeping into my nape, I might do something stupid out of desperation. Huxley's right; he's waited so patiently. He deserves more than an overload of rash decisions on my part.

We're driven through a stunning city where the rich must thrive. We pass expensive retail stores on busy streets and fountains in public rose gardens. Winding up a hillside, each house grows further apart from the last and is harder to spot behind walls of greenery and huge iron gates. Pulling up to a set with the ‘HV' logo branded into the center, I crane my neck in awe.

"Holy shit," I breathe, spying the whitewash walls through the bars. Windows dazzle in the midday sun, framed by carefully coordinated floral displays. The sheer volume of balconies and wings visible from the front have my eyes bulging in my head. "This is your place?!" Beside me, Huxley inclines his head, his long wavy hair tickling my shoulder.

"Last night, Wyatt mentioned you're not allowed to return home. I figured the least I could do is lend you mine." My head turns into his face. Chocolate eyes filled with earnestness stare back. As we roll towards Huxley's mansion, his fingers press beneath my chin to tilt my lips the rest of the distance to meet his.

Everything Huxley is - overwhelmingly warm, dependable and solid - hits me all at once. His kiss is gentle, but it settles deep within my core. His mouth brushes over mine, unhurried yet fueled by passion. By the time his tongue slips past my lips, I'm a quivering mess beneath him. I melt into the firmness of his chest, my hands settling on his biceps. He flexes, a show of power that mingles with the intoxicating scent of his cologne. It's taken the longest to carve out this moment with Huxley, and it's over far too quickly.

We stop in front of the front entrance, a member of staff opening the Bentley's rear door. My cheeks are flushed red. Huxley's knowing, cocky gaze doesn't leave my face as I scoot out without a moment to compose myself. Two massive doors are opened from the inside before we've reached the top step.

"Where are the others?" I peer back at the empty driveaway. Huxley's hand is on the small of my back.

"I may have sent them on a little detour." His brown eyes sparkle with mischief. "Come on, I have a surprise for you."

The house is every bit as grand on the inside as it is on the outside, with high ceilings, marble floors, and priceless artwork adorning the walls. Huxley leads me up a winding staircase, his touch gentle but firm enough at the same time. Butterflies burst to life within me, tenfold from when he pushed me up against the bathroom mirror after the frat house party. A night I refused to think about before, which is now branded at the forefront of my mind.

When Wyatt shut me in the cupboard, Huxley came for me. Huxley cared for me, as he has every night since; whenever I climb into his bed for comfort. He's never once pushed for more than a cuddle, he's waited until I was ready.

I'm ready right now.

Tracking the potted plants along a network of hallways, we head towards the back of the mansion and stop at a closed door. There's a rounded bay window to my right with a bench seat underneath to look out onto the gardens.

"I've given you the room overlooking the pool. Just in case you want to watch my midnight swims." He winks but I'm too flustered to be flirtatious. I lean into Huxley, my eyes hooded as I tilt my head back.

"I'll be watching every night," I mutter, pushing up onto my tiptoes. Huxley's responding grin is equally stunned and smug. He lowers his lips to mine, his hand sliding up my back to cup the back of my neck. The other settles on my waist, crushing us together. Huxley's palm seeps through the thin material of my t-shirt, the heat of him searing me like a branding iron .

"Don't you want to see your surprise first?" He asks against my cheek. I feel the effort he's putting in to restraining himself, but there's really no need. I shake my head, winding my arms around his neck, and haul myself upwards. Huxley's chuckle rumbles against my chest as he catches me, pressing me against the wall beside the door. Crashing my mouth against his, I claw at his shoulders and roll my hips. I can't help myself, as if my next breath depends on shifting the overwhelming desire flooding my veins. I'd do anything he wanted in this moment, including let him take me in the hallway.

"Huxley," I moan into his ear before biting his earlobe gently with my teeth. "I want you." His groan reverberates deep in his chest. The look in his deep chocolate eyes is enough to set my world ablaze, but still he's holding back ever-so-slightly. Gripping his hair, I drag him closer. "Please."

Huxley's hand trails up my bare thigh, bunching the material of my skirt. He's everywhere, his mouth on my neck, his tongue tangling with mine, his hands dancing across my skin one moment, and in my hair the next. It's like a dam has burst between us, and now there's no containing it. Broad shoulders ripple beneath my fingers, the shudder that rolls through him ending with his hips pressing further against mine.

"Wait, wait, wait. Let's press pause on this real quick," Huxley tears himself away from me breathlessly and plants me back on the ground. The air between us is cold, so I automatically step back into his body. His neck is marked by my nails and his blond hair a tangle mess of fucking hot. "I really think you should go in and see your surprise."

"Fuck the surprise. It can't be better than what's out here." Both Huxley and I are stunned by my revelations, but it's too late to play coy now. I step forward, palming his dick through his jeans. The door to the guest room flies open.

"Bitch, fuck you!" A female voice cuts through my haze of desire. Cocking her hip with both hands fixed on her waist, a long brunette ponytail slips over her shoulder. Releasing me, Huxley slowly backs away.

"Surprise," he says with a sideways slant to his bruised lips. My brain stutters to a stop as I look from him, to her blazing blue eyes and button nose.

"You…How…Meg!" I come to my senses and throw myself at my best friend. She catches me in a crushing hug. My heart breaks then, as her telltale vanilla and honey shampoo clears my mind and I realize just how much I've missed my best friend. How much I've needed her. It suddenly makes sense that it wasn't the manor I was feeling so heartbroken about not seeing - it was her. Meg is home to me. Standing back, I take in her cute pumpkin skater dress and the suitcase on the bed beyond her shoulder. "How the hell did you get here?! "

"I got the call last night to say our fall break plans have been relocated, and I was flown in this morning." Linking our arms, she walks us inside the room. It's huge, infused with deep purples and golds, complete with the promised balcony and more than big enough for the two of us to share. I look back to the hallway but Huxley has already disappeared. "Apparently, you're not allowed to isolate yourself from the world anymore. You need company at all times."

"Huxley said that?" I smirk to myself, dropping onto the bed. Meg stays standing, her face incredulous.

"No, Wyatt did."