He blinked twice, and I released him. I was sure he had plenty to say to me, but as it happened, I didn’t have the time or will to listen.

I stalked out and locked myself in my cellar for the remainder of the day, working.

I felt this weird, hungry, impatient lust for life that hit me like a tornado. It was strange, new, and raw. I finally understood that Iggy Pop song. But to feel lust for life, one must be alive first, and I wasn’t sure I’d been living before Lenora moved to Todos Santos.

Which was a pile of steaming bullshit. What was wrong with me?

I wasn’t feeling alive.

I was feeling horny. That’s it. I just wanted to get my dick wet.

I called it a day a little early—three-thirty. I locked the cellar behind me and took a trip downtown, shouldering past students and professors who begged to see my work.

I bought brownies, wine, and flowers, then threw them into a garbage can before I made it back to the castle. I was torn between wanting to impress her and wanting to kill her.

As I continued, furious at myself for yet again letting a girl fuck me up, my phone rang. I thought it was Dad, but no, it was Knight. I took the call.

“What?”

“Don’t what me like I’m interrupting your goddamn schedule of scowling at places, people, and your own reflection. You texted you wanted Hunter and me to come to London. Everything cool?”

He sounded sober, which meant he’d been keeping up the good work. I Skyped with him often, but it still surprised me to talk to Knight without some sort of slurring involved.

“Berkshire, and yeah, everything’s going according to plan. Just need a solid.”

“In person?”

“The fucking flesh.”

“Aight. Hunter’s travel agent is booking us tickets now. How are things with Drusilla?”

I heard the smile in his voice and clenched my jaw. Who the fuck knew? Admitting to having something with her would only invite unwelcome questions when I eventually put a stop to it. No way was I going to drag her down the dark rabbit hole I was about to dive into.

“There aren’t any things between us,” I told him.

“Hot damn, Spencer. I thought I was the romantic. Turns out, you were the one to drag your ass across the world for a pussy.”

“It had nothing to do with her. I came here for the internship.”

He laughed. I was too distracted to give a damn, though.

“Suuuuure. And I’m doing Meatless Tuesdays because I like quinoa, not because of my vegetarian bae. You’re drowning in a river of denial, too proud to ask someone to pull you out.”

“Clearly Luna likes you for your dick, not your ability to form a fucking sentence. Stay away from writing poetry.”

“Clearly.” More laughter. When he finally calmed down, he said, “Oh, and it’s good you’re not too hot on Astalis, because rumor has it your mom wants to hire her for her gallery in LA when she finishes this little stint. And you told anyone who’s willing to listen you were never coming back to California, amiright?”

“What?” I nearly shrieked, standing in front of the castle now. It infuriated the living fuck out of me that Mom would make this decision without consulting me first. Especially seeing as she didn’t even know Lenora.

Then again, that was exactly why she didn’t tell me. I’d never told Mom how I felt about Astalis.

You don’t feel anything for Astalis, dumbass.

It was quarter to seven, and I was feeling on edge. Pacing back and forth on the front lawn, I shook my head.

“Mom can hire her. None of my business.”

Knight was cracking up at the other end of the line. “Dude, it took you ten minutes to say it. Just admit you believe in a thing called looooove,” he sang. “By the way, this was a test. Your mom said no such thing. But it’s good to know how you really feel. See you in England, fucker. Stay safe.”

He hung up.

I looked at the time on my phone. I had fifteen minutes to shower. My room was all the way on the third floor, the communal showers another good ten minutes from there, down in the dorms. There was no way I was going to make it. I had two options: wait for her and invite her to stay in my room while I cleaned up, or leave her waiting for me.

It wasn’t a particularly chilly night. And she did make me watch her coming in another man’s mouth…

Thing was, I no longer wanted to punish her.

I didn’t want her pain, her insecurity, to scratch at the things that made her tick.

I stood there for twenty minutes, and at five past seven, when she showed up, her back to me, I approached and kissed her shoulder, watching the surprise and delight in her face when she turned and faced me.

“Whoa.” She grinned.

“I need to shower. Wait in my room?” I asked, like a normal person or something.

She smiled, saying something equally as ordinary. “Sure.”

I found her lying in my bed, flipping through my anatomy and sculpting books. The room was bare of any vibe or personality—I preferred it this way—but I still had my sculpting bullshit lying around. I stopped at the door and watched her, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around my waist.

Mainly I couldn’t understand the way this made me feel—observing her on my bed, which smelled like me, going through my shit. The pleasure was unexpected. Foreign. My chest constricted, and I tried to take a deep breath, thinking maybe I’d pulled a diaphragm muscle.

Still, I couldn’t draw enough air to satisfy me.

“Oh, hey.” Her voice was raspy. Hoarse.

I strolled in, pretending I didn’t hear her. I grabbed a rolled-up pair of black jeans from my closet, planning on getting dressed behind a small recliner in the corner of my room.

“Thanks for the new drafting table.” She put the anatomy books aside.

“I broke yours, and you have to work on something,” I reminded her.

Hardly a charitable act.

“Drop the towel,” she said, all of a sudden.

I looked up, half my leg already in my jeans. She sat up in my bed, propped on her forearms, a summer-dream smile touching her face. I couldn’t explain it, but I could breathe her from across the room: lavender, cotton, and my own fucking demise.

“Drop it,” she repeated, all mischievous and…cute. Yeah. Okay. She was cute and pretty. Big fucking deal.

“What for?”

“So I can see you.” She wiggled her brows. “After all, you’ve seen me plenty.”

“I’m about to be balls deep in you in less than fifteen minutes if I have my way,” I said. “Buck naked.”

“Hardly the same.” She licked her lips, her freaky, multicolored eyes glittering like marbles. “There’s something vulnerable about standing naked in front of somebody.”

“Precisely.” I scoffed. “Why would I put myself in a vulnerable position?”

She held my gaze, her voice turning serious. “Because I asked you to.”

Momentarily speechless, I regarded her. She was serious. I stepped from the recliner, dropped my towel, and straightened to my full height, hands on hipbones.

Stark fucking naked.

The first time I’d been naked in front of a stranger since…never mind.

Completely naked. And I couldn’t even figure out why I was humoring her ass.