9. ~Skylar~

Caleb had certainly called it about what had awaited our arrival at Luxe earlier this morning.

There'd been a circus all around me as we'd approached the Science and Technology building. Caleb had wrapped his arm around me in a clear message to back off to the crowds of students who'd been getting too close before he'd done that. He'd walked me all the way through the building toward my class, even though he'd been making himself late to one of his classes that was nowhere near where mine were. He'd deflected all the questions they'd thrown my way and answered some too. While it hadn't been negative attention and all the Luxe students that had been there last night weren't supporters of Vicars, any attention to me was bad. I didn't like the notoriety. It made me uncomfortable. I didn't like people knowing me. It was part of the reason I was a freaking loner. The other reason being my whole Onyx persona, where allowing people close would have interfered with that or even jeopardized them.

Although that was clearly about to be tested now.

This whole trust thing and agreeing to let Caleb help me, would mean I'd have to allow him in, them in. One step at a time, I figured.

I didn't like the idea of relying on anybody, because that could quite easily lead to vulnerability.

But after what had happened last night, I needed to do something to control all of that better. I mean, I'd passed out, anything could have happened. I'd basically been at the mercy of Sebastian and Caleb's kindness last night. Fortunately, they'd actually come through and helped me out. But it could have gone the other way. I could've woken up anywhere, for fuck's sakes.

I'd seen a brief glimpse of Sebastian this morning when he'd swept out into the hallway and drawn the attention of the crowds around us by offering up photos with him for them to post all over their social media. That was usually a strict no-no, according to Caleb. Everything centering around Sebastian's public persona and what was put out there, including to social media, was controlled to a crazy extent. It had something to do with him falling off the wagon. I didn't know all the details and when I'd lived here during that time, I hadn't paid attention to any of that. Their social elite world had been kept far away from me by my parents and I hadn't had any interest anyway. I'd been fully-immersed in trying to get into the institute too. I'd basically been living here, but I hadn't really been here in mind or spirit.

Trying to replicate that with coming to Luxe hadn't exactly worked.

And after last night, it was safe to say it wouldn't be allowed to going forward.

The boys wanted to pull me into their world, a world that was a lot more than the trust fund brat surface, one they hid from the outside.

And while I wasn't fool enough to think Caleb was offering to help me out of the goodness of his heart, I'd taken the offer because I was worried about that fucked-up part of me taking me over after last night, and also because it would put me in their space. While I hadn't wanted that initially, it had become clear that they weren't going to leave me alone.

So this way it stopped their dangerous pursuit and would hopefully cool them off in the process, while also putting me in a position to discover what they were hiding, what they really wanted from me.

Hopefully, I could determine that before I had to open up too much, or give them too much of my trust.

I knew one thing for sure, though.

No matter what they wanted from me, I wouldn't allow myself to become their fucking puppet.

I blew out a breath, getting aggravated by the whole thing, and the work I was trying to figure out in front of me.

I took another sip from my extra-large black coffee, something I needed after last night, and then put it down on the round vibrant-orange table, and resumed trying to figure out the mess before me.

All the tables in the on-campus café had vibrant colored table tops. There were even a couple of oversized couches that were a rainbow pattern, basically bringing all the colors together. I sat up at one of the two-seater tables in the far corner, my hood up to help me zone out from the hustle and bustle all around me as the lunch time rush got underway. I had to get this task done before my next class in an hour, before I faced yet another class that tried to prove to me how out of my depth I was with all of this. Even the design studio element had become a problem and tiresome because there were so many restrictions and rules to remember. You couldn't just create a beautifully aesthetically pleasing house or building that was a work of art, because there were constraints like materials, load-bearing this and that, issues about window placement and how much light needed to filter into each space, a whole load of things.

When I started bringing out my eraser and using that more than my pencil, I gave up and pushed it away. At least for now. I needed a breather.

I pulled my sketchbook out of my bag and I'd just placed it down on the table, when a shadow fell over my immediate area.

I jolted as I looked up to see Sebastian now standing there.

He had his messenger bag slung over his body, a coffee in one hand and a wrapped sandwich in another. He gestured at the chair opposite me. "Mind if I sit?"

A part of me wanted to tell him to go to hell—the self-preservationist part.

But the other? That other was a little bitch and let curiosity and something a whole lot more dangerous take the wheel.

"Sure," I was telling him then. Dammit.

He smiled and hung his bag off the chair, then put his coffee down and sat, starting to unwrap his sandwich.

"Has anybody bothered you since this morning?"

"No. It's been fine. Maybe a couple of quick looks and grins here and there, but that's the extent of it."

He tensed. "Looks and grins? Who?"

"What?"

"Who was it?"

"No clue. I don't exactly know everybody here like you do."

"Then describe them to me."

I held up my hand. "Calm down. It's fine. Honestly."

He resisted for a moment, then thankfully let it go and opened his sandwich. It was cut in half and as he saw me looking, he held one out to me. "It's a BLT. Want some?"

"Mayo?"

"Mustard."

I chuckled. "I thought I was the only one who went for mustard on a BLT."

"Nah, I hate mayo on everything."

Me too. "Aren't you going to be hungry if I have half?"

"I'll be fine. You, on the other hand, haven't eaten all day. As I tell Caleb far too often, you can't just subsist on coffee."

"How do you know I haven't eaten?"

"You missed breakfast and you've been in class all morning, up until twenty minutes ago when you came in here. And now I see you didn't order any food here either."

While it was disconcerting that he'd observed that much, I was also noticing a considerate and almost sweet aspect to it too.

I sighed and gestured at the design I'd tossed into the middle of the table. "I was busy working on that."

"Let me have a look for you. Take this," he said, holding the sandwich out closer. "Eat, woman. Jesus."

I grinned and took it from him.

The first bite was mouthwatering. "Damn, this is so good."

"Only the best at Luxe." He winked. "To keep all us rich fucks happy."

He had me chuckling again and I saw him grin, his sexy eyes lighting up that he'd managed to pull that from me.

And then, as I munched on the sandwich, he brought my design close and studied it.

"You're using line weight correctly. Very well actually."

"Well, that's my jam already."

"The whole art background, yeah," he murmured to himself.

"It's all the rest, though."

"The symbols are all right on. This is good, especially for your first try." His fingers hovered over the paper. "You're gonna want to flip your doors. For a standard entry door, you want it to swing inside of the house, not outside of the house."

"Oh, dammit."

"It's not a big deal. First year students make that mistake more often than you'd think." He studied it for a few more moments. "All right, so it's a space and flow issue."

"I know, it's absolute crap. I can't fit all the elements into the limited space the professor determined for this first floor bullshit design."

He looked up at me and grinned. "Wow, you're really stressed about this, huh?"

"I'm useless at it, that's why."

"You're being too hard on yourself. There's a lot of good work here. You just need a little help understanding better functional layout. I can see you're trying to make it too pretty and going with style over function. That comes later. You need to get a handle on the fundamentals first, before you go out there with your designs—well too far out there, you still want to have a little fun with it."

"Okay, yeah," I said, taking his words in.

I went to reach for the paper, but he snatched it up. "We're not done."

"We're not?"

His eyes darkened. "We're not in many ways." That darkness retreated as he tucked the drawing into his bag. "But in the case of this, I'm going to help you."

"I don't need you to do that."

"But I am."

"And you're taking the drawing so I have no choice?"

"More like you're leaving me no choice but to employ harsher methods."

"Excuse me?" I snapped.

"Because of all this standoffish and denial bullshit?"

"I—"

"You don't like to display anything that's not an unaffected persona, completely unaffected by anything or anyone, a machine, really. Hate to break it to you, but you're actually a human being."

"As if you're one to talk with that shutdown, robot thing you've got going on."

"Exactly. So I can recognize it in you. And the difference is, you don't want to be that way. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that you hate it. You don't want to be trapped or shoved in a metaphorical box with constraints… you're a free spirit. And all this that you're doing here is clipping your wings. One of the reasons you lost control last night is from all that repression."

I held up my hand. "I already had a similar conversation with Caleb this morning."

"And you listened to what he had to say and you agreed to let him help you. I'm just asking that you do the same here with me."

"You want to be my friend, is that what you're actually going with?"

"Why not?"

I leaned forward and lowered my voice, "You don't have to sugarcoat it. If you want another wild fuck from me, at least have the balls to admit it."

"I think a wild fuck is understating it just a tad." He pointed at the marks all over his neck and unzipped his hoodie a little to show me more on his chest. Just what I'd been trying to avoid noticing since he'd sat down. I'd covered my own ones up with makeup, so at least there was that. "Wouldn't you agree?" he asked, coyly, and in that know-it-all tone.

"It was in the heat of the moment."

"Yeah, I know," he said, zipping his hoodie back up. "You used me."

"What?"

"No hard feelings, I told you to." He licked his lips. "And it was a hell of a ride, one that I wouldn't trade for anything."

"Don't get any ideas. I'm not looking to repeat it."

"I wouldn't imagine so. At least not yet. I'd wager you're rather sore right now."

Fucker. "Can you not talk about my—"

"What? Your sweet cunt strangling the fuck out of my cock?" He leaned closer. "Did you bruise yourself on me, beautiful? Can you still feel me deep inside?"

"Stop."

"Can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because I want more than your hate now."

I swallowed hard as the intensity coming off him bled into me. "Like what?"

He grasped my hand. Harshly. "Every. Fucking. Thing."

A shudder rolled through me.

And something else.

It had me discreetly rubbing my thighs together under the table. Damn him.

"What do we have here?"

His hand left me and he sat back and I looked to see Damien striding up to the table.

"Seb," he said, a little tightly, to which Sebastian gave a curt head nod. And then Damien focused on me. "If you're trying to lay low with that hoodie up and sitting in the corner, I've gotta tell you, the blue and silver hair is kind of giving you away, babe."

"She's not your babe," Sebastian bit at him.

Damien registered the animosity, but ignored it and went on, "Although, it does work for you. Don't you agree, Seb?"

"Blue. Vibrant-red would work too. Same with purple," he said, eyeing me pointedly.

I jolted. Those particular colors weren't a coincidence. He was referencing my wigs I'd worn as Onyx, letting me know that he was aware of even that aspect. Son of a bitch.

"Yeah, I guess," Damien said, at a loss. And then he focused up and told me, "I've got another fight for you if you want it. Well, there's a whole damn line now after your epic performance last night. You're the talk of that place."

"Who's the first fighter?"

As he gave me some details about another psycho, this one wanting to prove himself by bringing down a woman, I looked out at Sebastian, who was grinding his teeth and tapping his fingers on the tabletop.

"Maybe," I told Damien, non-committal. "I need to think about it."

"Well, the earliest it would be is a week from now. I get that you might need some recovery time after that asshole stabbing you."

I ran my hand over the bandage beneath my hoodie. "It's just a scratch. I meant because of schoolwork."

"You know, the thing you, of all people, should be focusing on," Sebastian told him.

Damien grinned. "Aww, little brother, you still sore about the two of us kissing?"

Sebastian glared at him.

"Come on, it was just a show. I admitted that. You just pissed me off, that's all. Besides, Cal already punished me for it."

"You enjoyed that punishment, no doubt."

"Of course, I did. You know me. But the real punishment was the tease of it."

I rolled my eyes at the bullshit and Sebastian thinking he had any right to be pissed about that kiss. I pulled my phone out and scrolled to my contacts, telling Damien, "Give me your number and we'll figure out the details."

As he started to reel off the number, I'd only typed two digits in when Sebastian lurched across the table and snatched my phone from my hand.

"What the—"

"You don't need his number. You'll let me know and I'll relay it to him."

"That's ridiculous, I can just—"

"Non-negotiable."

Before I could argue further, or more like, lay into him for daring to give me an order, he fisted his hand in Damien's hoodie and jerked him down to him.

He whispered something at his ear that had Damien stiffening.

When he released him, Damien's eyes narrowed, but he muttered, "Fine." Then he smiled at me without a word and then took off back through the café.

"What the hell was that?" I demanded.

"You don't want him having your number, or vice-versa."

"And why is that?"

"Just trust me."

"Yeah, well, that's hard to do when you don't answer my questions and go the whole cryptic route all too often instead."

"You've gotta give me an inch first, before you can be demanding a mile from me."

I blew out a breath, then finished off my sandwich, and he did the same, the two of us staring each other down the entire time.

When I was finished, I took my sweet time sipping at my coffee, making him wait for my answer, before I finally said, "I'd like your help with that design."

He smiled. "There. You can compromise. Good girl."

"Watch it. I'm not your good girl."

"Would you prefer I refer to you as my filthy little whore."

I sucked in a breath, him invoking those words sending a flash of dirty memories slamming into me. "No," I somehow managed to answer, albeit slightly unsteadily.

He chuckled, then thankfully pulled out the paper he'd stolen and placed it down in front of us. He moved his chair much closer, adjacent to mine, so that his shoulder was rubbing against mine and I could feel the heat from him.

I blinked past it and fought to focus on the work at hand as he snatched up my pencil and demonstrated where I'd gone wrong, the space I'd misused, and all that.

He was good, I'd give him that.

The ease with which he was able to fix the mess I'd made and to teach me at the same time wasn't just him being a year ahead of me, it was indicative of him being some sort of genius prodigy. And the passion coming through as he talked about it all was blazingly bright, making me smile.

Twenty minutes went by until he passed it over to me and had me follow what he'd taught me. The way he'd explained it wasn't as overwhelming as it had been when it had been communicated in class, and I was actually able to get it down pat.

"Perfect," he complimented, when I was done. "You just needed a little more guidance. You could've gotten it from the other students in your class, but you're not down with the collaborative effort thing. It put you at a disadvantage here."

Yeah, I was getting that.

"No matter, I'm here to serve until you can get over that."

I rolled my eyes. "How can you be so nice and infuriating at the same time?"

"The infuriating part is because we haven't settled up yet."

"Settled up what?"

"What happened between you and my brother last night, of course," he answered in a creepily nonchalant tone.

"Please, you already heard from him that it was just a ruse. And it was merely a kiss."

"An awkward as fuck kiss, yeah. But it still happened, nonetheless."

"Sebastian—"

He curled his hand around my nape and drew me right up close, so close that I could feel his hot breath fanning over my cheek, so we were breathing in the same air.

To the outside world, it probably looked like a tender embrace from a lover, but in reality his eyes were dancing dangerously with those hellfire flecks, his fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to make me feel the burn. "Did you really think I would simply allow that to go unpunished? After you'd come by my hand, after I'd claimed that tight little cunt with my fingers, after you were wearing my marks on you? To then go to another man and allow him to touch you—my older brother to make it all the worse? And to make me watch, to stoke jealousy in me?" He stroked the finger of his free hand over my lips. "What did you think would happen, hmm?"

"I'm not yours to claim. I'm not your possession."

"Oh, but you are. The moment you opened to me that became the case."

"I didn't agree to that."

"You will."

This bastard. "I had my hand on Caleb's dick earlier."

Thinking that would have him toning it down and getting a major wakeup call that I didn't belong to anyone backfired majorly when he smiled and said, "Good, you're consuming him too."

"Why is that good? With Damien, you—"

"Caleb is different." He stroked my jaw softly. "Aww, did you think that would anger me, or turn me off? Sorry, beautiful, it's the direct opposite. You see, me, Caleb, and Caspian have a very special dynamic. One you'll come to understand soon enough." He released me abruptly, then pushed out of his chair. "Enjoy the rest of your day. We'll settle up soon."

With that, he snatched up his bag and took off, leaving me staring after him with only one thought.

What. The. Fuck?