When Sinners Play (Sinners of Hawthorne University 1)

But I like the way he says the words—as if he wants to look when he can take his time looking. Not a stolen glance, but a slow perusal.

Gray’s gaze darts from the road to the rearview mirror, and I can’t interpret the expression on his face. I remember the possessive heat that filled his voice the day I kissed Declan in my dorm, and I wonder what would happen if I crawled between the seats and kissed his friend again.

I don’t do it, because I’m not entirely sure Gray wouldn’t crash the car.

But I can’t deny I kind of want to.

Declan was right. It’s way too fucking cold to get in the water.

But we don’t let that stop us, wading in up to our knees as the chilly ocean bites at our toes. It’s sunny and clear, and the breeze is warm on my face as I wade in a little deeper.

Elias is splashing at Declan, trying to goad him deeper into the water, and I’m laughing at the two of them when a pair of strong arms wrap around me from behind. I know who it is immediately, and not just because I can see the other two Sinners. Gray’s spicy bourbon scent mingles with the salt-soaked air tickling my nostrils, and the heat of his body at my back is like a furnace.

I sink back against him, enjoying the feel of my bare skin against his. It hasn’t been that long since we fell asleep naked in each other’s arms, but I missed it anyway.

And that should probably scare me a lot more than it does.

“What do you think? Better than class?” he asks, his breath ghosting over my ear.

I give a low chuckle. “I’m gonna say, hell yes.”

“Good.” He threads his fingers through mine, carefully avoiding the small cuts and bruises that mar my knuckles. Then he shifts behind me, dropping his head to press a kiss to the tattoo on my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, Sparrow.”

Goose bumps flutter over my skin as my nipples pebble despite the warmth in the air. My gaze catches on Elias and Declan again as they both turn to look at me and Gray.

I have no idea what this thing between all of us is.

I have no idea what the future holds.

Still…

“I’m glad too.”

28

I dip my brush in a dark purple paint, then sweep it in a wide arc over the canvas in front of me, letting it blend with the blues and grays that I’ve already laid down.

It took more time than I liked, but my ability to paint—to draw comfort from art—has slowly returned. In between studying like a madwoman for finals, I’ve rediscovered my painting mojo. Over the past few days, I’ve spent every spare second I can find in front of a canvas.

My chest still aches painfully when I think of the portrait of Jared that was destroyed. I haven’t tried to do another portrait of him, partly because I’m afraid the sharpness of my memories might be fading with time. If I try to draw him and can’t quite remember the angle of his jaw or the shape of his eyes, I think it might break my heart.

In general, I’m not trying to recreate any pieces that were lost when my room was trashed. I’m just making new pieces, letting my mind and creativity go wherever it wants.

I lay a few more brushstrokes on the canvas, dabbing in some darker shadows in one corner before adding a few more streaks of purple. It’s taken on a shape similar to the yawning black hallway I remember from my dreams, although I haven’t had a dream I remember for a few weeks now. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. The images are still lodged in my brain—fuzzy and indistinct, but there.

As I dip my brush back in the paint, my vision darkens at the edges and a wave of dizziness washes over me. I drop the brush on my palette and press one hand to the wall nearby, breathing deep through my nose.

Fuck.

I sort of hoped I’d be done with this bullshit now that things have settled down a little in my life.

The past couple weeks have been… nice.

The peace between the Sinners and me has started to seem less like a temporary truce and more like the beginnings of something real. Something good.

Max, as overprotective as she is, has even come around on the guys—especially after hearing about what Gray did for me the day I almost got expelled. All five of us have been spending more time together, and when the fierce sexual tension between me and Gray boils over into toe-curling sex, neither one of us runs away as soon as it’s over anymore.

I’m not quite sure what to do about the desire that still burns hot and bright between me and Declan, or between me and Elias, for that matter. I feel like I’m gonna have to say something—do something—soon, before the tension snaps like a rubber band pulled too tight.