Crux Year

Chapter Five - Royal

Stop. Looking. At. His. Mouth.

I didn't plan to come to Shay Arden's house to stare at his intriguing mouth. It just happened. One minute I was walking around aimlessly, trying to figure out why I haven't taken the leap—literally a leap over the wall—to freedom from the head games the people in Rock City play and the next minute I was going to his house.

Rock City isn't that big.

And when your dad is as influential as mine is, you know a little about everything and everyone, including where they live.

His top lip is slightly larger than the bottom one. Pink like the color of the tulips that pop up in all the yards in April. The bottom lip gets sucked beneath his upper white teeth and he bites down on it. It looks painful. I have the insane urge to lift my hand and pluck it free with my thumb. Of course, I don't do that. No, I'm too dumbstruck by the loveliness of his pretty mouth.

If I don't intervene, Nicky Ewing will think he has some right to kiss that mouth. Over my dead body. Shay is too delicate to ever get in Nicky's oily grasp. He's gentle and pure and good.

Shay swallows audibly. It breaks the spell between us. I force my stare from his mouth that deserves to be worshiped by someone who loves him, not someone he's matched with or someone like Nicky. I drag my gaze down to his throat, drinking in all the creamy skin along the way.

Crimson smears steal my attention.

My heart inside my chest stutters to a halt. Before I can stop myself, I'm reaching, reaching, reaching for the innocent boy who's a victim to their brainwashing. His blue eyes—the color of Lost Pebble Lake—are bright and reflective, sparkling with such beauty it's hard to look away.

"You're hurt," I manage, my voice husky and raw.

A visible tremble works its way down his body. His hands shake wildly until he closes them into fists. The sereneness in his eyes hardens to sapphires, cold but still beautiful.

"You shouldn't be here," he blurts out, finding his voice and ignoring my question. "You should be—" He waves a hand, gesturing past me. "Gone."

It's then I see the blood on his fingertips. The scratches on his neck are self-induced. I take hold of his thin wrist, my large hand curling around it, completely capturing it.

He blinks hard and rapidly. A pink blush skates over his milky cheeks. Something about the sweetness of it has me wanting to lean in and press a kiss to one side to see if the skin is warm.

"Are you okay?" I pin him with a questioning stare.

He squirms under my intensity but doesn't attempt to pull his arm from my grip. "I'm fine. A mosquito." His nostrils flare and his eyes dart away briefly.

"Liar." A grin tugs at my lips.

This time, he does try to pull away, but I'm not ready to let him go yet. Hidden strength, buried deep inside, flares at me like an explosion.

"Let go of me."

I reluctantly release him. "Can we talk?"

He crosses his arms over his chest, shaking his head. "No. I have nothing to say to you, Royal. Why are you even here?"

Ouch.

His words are a scrape, much like the one he gave to himself. This time, I'm the one who gets cut. I flinch and then absently rub at my neck like I might find blood there, too.