How Sinners Fight (Sinners of Hawthorne University 2)

It’s the song he sang for me on the rooftop of the hospital. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard it, and even then, I only heard a rough version unlike the studio version that’s playing right now, but I recognize the sweet, haunting melody.

“Declan,” I say, sitting up on the bed. “That’s your song… that’s you.” He nods but doesn’t say anything, glancing down at his hands as he chews his lower lip. “I thought you said—”

“—he wasn’t ever going to release any of his music,” Elias finishes for me. “He wasn’t. And he wasn’t even going to show this to you because he’s such a humble asshole.”

Declan finally laughs, glancing up at me through lashes that would make any girl jealous. “I put it up on YouTube just before Christmas… I’d thought about what you said when we smoked on the roof.” He runs a hand through his already tousled hair, shaking his head. “You said it wasn’t right not to share it with the world, so I decided what the hell. I figured the worst that could happen would be that no one would listen to it.”

“And?” Elias prompts, sounding both proud and smug.

Declan chuckles, flushing lightly. “And it kinda blew up a little bit. I had a record label ask me to sign on with them. They’re pretty small, and it’s all still new, but they’re helping me get my work out there.”

“Holy shit! Declan, that’s fucking fantastic,” I say, wanting to kiss him and smack him all at once for not telling me.

“I wouldn’t have done it if not for you,” he says with a grin that makes my core clench. “Seriously, you were kinda the final push that made me say fuck it. I don’t give a shit if my parents aren’t happy about it, if they don’t support me, because I don’t need their support to get anywhere.” He gestures to the phone, which is still playing music softly. “That’s proof that I don’t need their money to get where I want to be.”

“Because you’re talented all by yourself,” I tell him, propping myself up on one elbow and resting a hand on his bare chest.

His blush deepens. It really is sexy as fuck, and I mentally store the image away. Maybe it’ll come out in my art some time in the future, but I know for a fact that it’ll stay in my heart forever.

“They want me to take over the family business,” he says. “It’s what they’ve always wanted. Sometimes I think it’s the only fucking reason they had a kid. But I’m starting to think beyond that. Thinking about what I really want.”

I raise an eyebrow, smirking. “And what is it that you really want?” I ask, letting my voice drop to a husky whisper.

It’s meant to be a joke, but what happened between us an hour ago clearly wasn’t enough to satisfy him, because he gets the look of a hungry wolf on his face, his hands grasping my hips. He flips us over on the bed and kisses me deeply.

Elias laughs, his lips finding the curve of my shoulder as his palms slide over my body.

Declan never answers my question, but as the two of them work in tandem, groping and kissing me, I swear I can hear the word echoing in my head anyway.

You.

12

I d

on’t know if it’s because of the confrontation between me and Gray or because of what came after, but something seems to have shifted inside me. My emotions are closer to the surface than ever before, and they bring the dreams back with them.

I’m dreaming about the night of the party.

I can feel it.

I shouldn’t know that I’m dreaming, but I do. It’s so real I can almost imagine that I’m back at the party, taking the steps to the second floor two at a time, wondering where Gray went off to.

I get a shiver down my spine thinking about later tonight. The promises he’s made me, the things his body does to mine. I’m almost tempted to see if he wants to get out of here now, or to find a room in the huge house where we can be alone.

But then I hear those words from the other side of the door. They’re sharp and painful, like blades that pierce right through the armor around my heart.

There’s nothing special about her.

She’s not fucking worth it.

She’ll be gone by next semester anyway.

I’ve got it handled, all right?

I gasp for breath, and I think my dreaming self knows to run before I have to hear the rest of it, live through the rest of it all over again. I know what he’s going to say next, and I wish I could stop it.

But I can’t. This all happened already, and there’s no changing it now.