When Sinners Play (Sinners of Hawthorne University 1)

No.

“Well, I’m fine.” I lean against my closed door, crossing my arms over my chest. “So you can leave.”

He doesn’t say anything in response to that either, nor does he make a move to go anywhere.

I don’t know what Declan’s deal is, but I’ve got no energy left to try to force him to fuck off. So I shrug and make my way toward the stairwell. “Fine. You can sit outside my door all damn night if you want. I need a smoke.”

The stairwell has become my usual smoking spot, since most of the girls in my dorm take the elevators—too good to walk up stairs like the mere mortals, I can only assume. I plop myself down on one of the steps, pull out my joint, and light it.

Declan joins me a few seconds later. He’s not as big as Elias or Gray, but his bulk takes up a good portion of the stair, his shoulder against mine.

I ignore it, and I especially ignore the way a little trickle of heat works its way down my arm from the point of contact between us. When I tug my bottom lip between my teeth, I can still taste Gray on my skin. But I swear I can also taste the lingering flavor of Declan.

That kiss was…

Jesus, I don’t even know what it was. But I know Gray was trying to fuck it out of my system when he kicked his two friends out before hauling me into the bedroom like a damn caveman.

The honest truth is, it didn’t work. My body is sore and sated, still recovering from the intense sex with Gray.

That kiss, though?

It’s not out of my system.

Taking another long drag from the joint, I do my best to clear my head of all thought. Declan is the quietest of the three Sinners, but he’s observant as fuck, and I don’t want him to guess what I’m thinking about.

We sit in a comfortable silence for a little while, passing the joint back and forth. I let the smoke fill my lungs, and even though it doesn’t bring the numbness I was hoping for, it at least slows my spinning thoughts.

“What’s Gray’s deal?” I ask finally, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

It’s an open ended question that could have a number of answers. Mostly, I’m curious about whether or not Declan will answer me at all, let alone answer honestly if he does. Given how tight the three Sinners seem to be, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he tells me to fuck off.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything at all for a while. He’s got the joint pinched between his thumb and forefinger, staring at it without really seeing it. A slight frown tugs at the corners of his lips as a wispy trail of smoke floats past his face.

I watch him open his mouth, then close it again, and I unconsciously lean a little closer to him, as if I might draw the answers out that way.

Finally, he hands the joint back to me without taking another hit. “Listen, Gray’s got his own problems, okay? And whatever you think about him, he’s got a good reason for acting the way he does.”

I grimace. “Of course he does. Doesn’t every asshole? At least in their own mind.”

Declan lets out a sound, and I can’t tell if it’s agreeing or disagreeing with me.

“Well, I’m not leaving,” I say idly, running a hand through my tangled blond and blue hair. I didn’t shower before stepping out into the hall, and it occurs to me belatedly that I probably still smell like sex. “I know none of you think I earned my place here, but I did, and I’m not gonna give it up just because a boy was mean to me.”

“I never said I think that.”

His quiet words draw my attention, and my head turns sharply toward him. He’s staring at me with an inscrutable look, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Yeah. Well. Tell Gray that.”

“I think he knows it already. Or some part of him does anyway.” Declan sighs. Then he straightens, bringing us face to face. “And whether you earned it or not, I think you’re one of the few people who could come in from the outside and survive here. This place, this life, chews people up and spits them out.” The corner of his lip twitches, like he’s holding in a grin. “I’ve seen you get chewed on plenty since you got here, but every time you get spit out, you’re still in one piece.”

I pull a face, surprised by the laugh that bubbles out of me. “That’s a disgusting analogy.”

He shrugs, the grin finally breaking free. “Yeah. It’s not my best. I’m usually better at them than that. I’ll keep thinking about it.”

“Good. Let me know what you come up with.”

I find myself smiling back at him, and I don’t know if it’s the moment of easy banter or the fact that I think he actually just gave me a compliment, but my chest feels a little lighter.