A Beautiful Torment

34. Control

Tap... Tap...

I jerked awake, accidentally elbowing Wyatt in the stomach as I flinched. My eyes were coated with sleep and I blinked heavily, trying to dislodged the thick flakes, still slightly disorientated.

Wyatt groaned, his arms squeezing around me for a second before he released me abruptly, his head jerking up. At some point during the night, his good leg had become wedged between both of mine, and he was lying more on top of me than beside me. Not that I was really complaining – at all.

Tap... Tap...

"S'that someone at the door?" I slurred. I glanced at the clock, my limbs still heavy from exhaustion. 10 a.m. – brilliant, I thought. I'd gotten all of four hours sleep.

"Mmm, probably Sophia," Wyatt mumbled, scraping a hand over his face. As if she'd heard her name, the woman herself pushed open the bedroom door. She cocked her brow at the empty bed, a scowl twisting her otherwise gorgeous face. I stiffened against Wyatt, recalling our argument from last night.

"I think you're beautiful."

If he thought I was beautiful, then what did that make Sophia? Superhumanly attractive?

"You're due downstairs with Nikolas in the basement," Sophia informed Wyatt curtly.

He groaned in response, burying his head in our pillow. I heard him call Nikolas a particularly filthy name, his voice muffled by the pillow, and I shot him a disgusted look. I shoved his shoulder a little bit – not enough to hurt him, but enough to convey my disapproval.

"Ladies present," I reminded him in a low voice.

Sophia might have, kind of, smiled. Sort of.

Wyatt shot me a dark look and wound his arms around my waist, pushing me unceremoniously off the side of the sofa. I shrieked, thinking he was going to drop me, but instead he just swung himself up into a sitting position and dropped me back down onto the cushion next to him.

I watched as he wandered into the walk-in closet, closing the door over behind him – leaving me, I realizes, alone in the room with Sophia.

"Um," I mumbled awkwardly, my eyes flickering nervously in her direction. "Good morning?"

One perfectly-waxed brow rose.

Bad morning?

"Don't be a bitch, Soph," Wyatt called from the closet.

Ignoring the sting of jealousy that pierced my chest at the sound of his nickname for her, I glanced once more in her direction. She was scowling at the closet door, her arms folded rigidly across her chest. If looks could kill, I thought, there'd be a hole in the closet door, for sure, and a Wyatt-shaped corpse on the floor.

Wyatt came back out in a pair of loose, grey tracksuit bottoms and a tight, V-neck t-shirt, and I had to consciously lock my jaw to keep my mouth from falling open. Ugh. It really didn't matter what he wore, he was still going to be crazy-gorgeous.

When he started for the door, a nonsensical gurgle escaped my mouth in protest.

Please don't leave me alone with her, I thought desperately. Or alone, period.

Wyatt glanced at Sophia before his eyes flicked in my direction. "Wanna come watch?"

Yes, please. "Watch what?"

"Me, training."

"Um." I glanced down, realizing that I was still in my PJ's. I gestured awkwardly to my attire, and Sophia cleared her throat.