How Sinners Fight (Sinners of Hawthorne University 2)

I grip him for support and give a small nod. “I’ll be good once we start walking,” I say, despite the fact that my head spins a little.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, of course.” I don’t want him to change his mind or get all protective, so I prove my words by heading toward the door.

Okay, so I’m a little slower than normal. But it’s probably to be expected after an injury like mine, then being in bed for nearly a week. As we head out of the room and down the hallways, my steps become a bit more steady, but Declan still hovers close by. My sprained ankle has been improving quickly, and I only favor that side a little as I walk.

I can feel the heat of his body when he brushes up against me, and it sends a shiver through me. Funny how that happens—the physical reaction to his heat is a delicious chill over my skin.

I like it.

When we step onto an elevator, Declan pulls a card out of his pocket and inserts it into a reader above the elevator buttons. He presses the top button, and the doors close before the elevator starts to rise. When I catch his gaze, I cock an eyebrow.

“What?” He shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking only a little guilty.

“Where did you get that?” I gesture toward the card. I know enough about rich people by now to know those cards must be the only way to get access to certain floors, one of which we’re probably going to.

He grins. “I can get whatever I want around here by dropping the Windham name. My dad’s a big donor to the hospital.” He shoves the key back into his pocket. “Don’t worry, you’ll like where we’re going.”

As long as it’s not my sterile little room, I think, I’m sure I’ll be happy anywhere.

A moment of silence passes as the elevator slides smoothly upward, but it’s a comfortable sort of quiet—the kind I only feel when I’m around him. There’s something between us that requires no small talk, no conversation at all, to feel at ease. I’m not really sure what it is, but I also know I don’t need to figure it out. I’m content with just knowing I feel okay with him. Chill.

I’ll never forget that Declan was the first of the Sinners to make me feel comfortable, even welcome, after my arrival at Hawthorne. Those stolen moments on the stairs when it was just me and him helped me get through all of the other bullshit in the beginning.

When the elevator doors open, much to my surprise, I catch a beautiful expanse of blue sky with fluffy clouds scattered about, seemingly endless miles of fresh air and sunshine. Judging by the fact that we step out onto concrete and tastefully hidden cables running along the roof, I know this place isn’t formal access for elite clients. It’s just the fucking rooftop, with access probably intended only for maintenance, but I love it.

I’m not even sure how he knew he could get up here with that card, but as the cool breeze brushes over my skin and plays with the blue strands in my hair, I’m sure as hell not complaining. This is exactly what I didn’t know I needed.

“Over here,” Declan murmurs, showing me to a spot on the edge of the roof where a brick wall makes a little alcove and we can dangle our feet over an edge that looks down on the real elite status rooftop garden. It’s currently empty, and I’m glad. I want us to have this moment just to ourselves.

“I found this spot the other day when I was poking around. You were asleep,” he adds.

I grin. Of course Declan was poking around, looking for places like this.

He sits down with his feet hanging over the edge and pats the spot next to him. I sit too, tucking my stupid hospital gown around my legs to ward off the slight chill in the air. As I settle in, my slippered feet dangling next to his, he pulls a small bag out of his pocket and quickly rolls a joint. He produces a lighter next, then hands both items to me, presenting them with a flourish. I laugh as I take them.

With the joint tucked lightly between my lips, I flick the lighter and take a long drag. The smoke fills my lungs, and I tilt my head back a little as I hold it before exhaling.

I pass the joint and the lighter back to him. “Thanks.”

I needed this.

“Yeah, of course. Not a problem, Soph.”

Declan looks out at the endless blue sky, his gaze going slightly distant, and for the next couple of minutes, we pass the joint back and forth between us, sitting in silence. The restlessness that’s been lingering in me for the past couple of days slowly fades until I’m left with just the feeling of his thigh against mine, his fingers brushing against mine every once in a while.

What would I do without him?

I don’t know what I’d do without any of them, honestly. They’ve changed my life so much that it’s almost hard to remember what it was like before they were a part of it. Or maybe I just don’t want to remember.

What would’ve happened if I fell down stairs the first week of school?

No one would have been there to help cover the bills, that’s for damn sure. And more than that, no one would’ve been there to watch over me, to hope that I’d wake up and to keep me company when I did.

This—this moment right now—means more to me than the money. It means fucking everything.

When Declan starts humming a tune under his breath, a small smile plays at the corners of my mouth. I know his singing is a side of himself he doesn’t show many people, and I count myself lucky to be one of the few.