Carved in Her Bones

Peter

The week after I "rejected" Rhian, according to her texts to Oliwia, was nothing short of pure torture. And from her responses, or lack thereof, I suspected she was doing it on purpose. Every text I sent her was met with one-word answers—if she replied at all. After that quiet, awkward dinner, she had practically sprinted out of my car and into her dorm, and the next morning, my invitation to another dinner got an answer eight hours later: "Just saw this, hope you're okay. Goodnight." The brush-off was loud and clear.

Wednesday was even worse, silence on her end. I found myself watching her from a coffee shop across from where she worked, just to get a glimpse, though I kept my distance. She didn't respond to my calls that night either, and I felt my patience fraying. Thursday, Clarissa informed me Rhian had turned down the internship—no thank you, no explanation.

Friday, I barely had time to breathe with back-to-back meetings to prepare for a submission to the EMA. I didn't even have a moment to watch her from afar. When the evening came, and my phone buzzed, I nearly dismissed it—until I saw she'd texted Jack asking him to go for drinks.

My blood practically boiled. Grabbing my keys, I was out of my office and in front of her dorm in under fifteen minutes. I'm not sure how many lights I ran through to get here, and honestly, I didn't care. She was not going out with Jack. Not tonight. Not ever.

Come out. I'm outside. I shot her a text.

Can't—plans with Jack tonight.

Come down, or I'll come up. Your choice.

Can't come down, Peter. Like I said: B-U-S-Y.

Impossible. After a quick conversation with the ladies at reception, I was on my way to her room in no time. When her roommate let me in, mentioning Rhian was still in the bathroom getting ready, I couldn't resist a quick glance around her half of the room. Neat, organized, a bookshelf lined with heavy classics and thick volumes on music.

And then she stepped out. Tight black leather dress, thigh-high boots, dark pink lips, her hair meticulously straightened. She looked incredible. Too incredible. For Jack? Absolutely not. Not tonight.

"Hi," she smiled, glancing at me with those maddeningly calm eyes. "Sorry you came all this way—I have plans with Jack."

I smiled back, but with every intention to change her mind. "Rain check, maybe?" I leaned in and whispered in her ear, "You look beautiful, love." I kissed her cheek softly, letting my lips brush her ear. "Text Jack. Tell him you can't make it." My tongue flicked lightly against the skin just behind her ear, and she let out the softest moan.

But Rhian was determined. Squaring her shoulders, she whispered back, "That would be rude, Peter. I don't break my word."

She thought she could throw me off with that? "Then I'm coming with," I said, smiling, my voice calm and controlled.

She rolled her eyes and playfully slapped my shoulder. "No, you're not. Go home."

Are we picking him up, or what?" I asked, keeping my voice casual, though every inch of me tightened at the thought of her going out with him.

Rhian rolled her eyes, an exasperated smile on her lips. "Jack's expecting just me, Peter. We just finished exams, and we need this. So... you can't come."

She was taunting me, letting it hang there, daring me to react. Ignoring her, I held my phone out to her, relentless. "Enter his address."

She gave me a look, half-annoyed, half-amused, but still complied. "He's on the floor below."

I nodded, jaw clenched. "Lead the way."

She sized me up, glancing over my suit. "You can't go like that," she muttered. "It's a club, not some... meeting."

I raised an eyebrow, unwavering. "Do you want me to come with you or not, Rhian?"

She crossed her arms, a hint of defiance in her eyes. "No."

"Fine, then I'll walk you to Jack's room and leave. Unless you want me to drive you."

"No. We're taking a bus."

Testing me—she was enjoying every second of it. But once we stepped into the elevator, I'd reached my limit. The moment the doors closed, my restraint snapped.

I pinned her against the wall, pressing my mouth to hers in a way that wasn't asking for permission. She didn't pull back. In fact, her hands gripped my jacket, pulling me closer, as if she wanted to erase any distance between us.

My hand slipped under her dress, fingertips grazing the delicate lace between her legs. I could feel her tremble, her lips parting against mine, her body arching toward me. She was soaked, and the feeling of her warmth against my hand made me nearly lose all control.

Just as the elevator stopped, her nails dug into my shoulder, her head falling back as she came undone with a soft, shuddering cry that I swallowed with my mouth, leaving her breathless and flushed. The doors opened to reveal Jack's floor, but she was lost in the moment, oblivious.

Slowly, I pulled away, savoring the flushed look in her eyes, the softness in her expression. I pressed a final kiss to her neck,  before I leaned back, straightening myself. My thumb brushed her lip, lingering on her skin before I brought it to my mouth, tasting the sweetness that lingered there.

As the elevator doors slid shut, a heady mix of satisfaction and frustration settled over me. Watching Rhian's flushed face, still reeling from the intensity of  our little encounter I wanted nothing more than to keep her right there, but I let the doors close, leaving her on Jack's floor.

All week, I'd forced myself to hold back, to give her space, hoping she'd reach out on her own. But as soon as I saw her tonight, dressed up to meet him, every bit of restraint had shattered. She needed to know she was mine—or at least that I intended her to be. And I wanted to be sure she'd think of me for the rest of the night, that she'd feel my presence even in his company.

When I'd whispered, "I'll pick you up tomorrow to meet my mom," her reaction had been worth it. Her eyes widened, a mix of surprise and anticipation flickering there. I could tell she hadn't expected that twist, nor the seriousness it implied. It was as if she were starting to realize how deep this ran for me, that I wasn't letting her drift away so easily.

As I made my way to my car, my thoughts settled back on her, wondering how she'd react to the family gathering. It felt like a bold step, but somehow, I knew it was the right one. Whatever games we were playing, whatever this tension was between us—I wanted her to see it for what it really was.