Dirty Little Secrets (Kings of Bolten 1)

When she didn’t comment on it, I let out a breath of relief and shifted my weight, already irritated that I’d been backed into a corner in my own room. This was my safe place. My sanctuary. It was the only damn place I could really relax. Bringing Bianca back here had been a terrible idea. I should’ve just leaned against the wall outside her dorm while I waited for Dom and Vincent to get back.

She sauntered over to the shelf where I had my record collection.

“These weren’t here all the times I cleaned your room. I didn’t know you liked music.” She brushed her fingers along the sleeves and bit her bottom lip as she paused to read the titles. A tiny smile cut her full lips upward, making me fidget.

I shrugged. “They were in a box in my closet. I just unpacked them a couple days ago.”

“My dad loved this album,” she said, pulling out my Rolling Stones Aftermath album. “One of my favorite songs is on here.”

“Which?” I asked, watching as she pulled the record out and put it in the p

layer.

She looked at me over her shoulder and gave me a tiny smile as “Paint it Black” started playing. I was mesmerized by her hips swaying to the music. She hummed along with it. I took in each hip swing, my throat aching as I tried to remain calm. I had no idea what was coming over me, but I didn’t like it.

The microwave dinged, and she sashayed over to it and removed the freshly popped corn and dumped it into a large bowl on the counter. Sexily, she moved back to the record player and turned it off before perching on the edge of my bed, the bowl of popcorn in her lap.

I clenched my jaw as she ate a few fluffy, buttery pieces, her eyes on me.

“Can we watch a movie? It’ll be a long night if we’re just going to sit here and stare at one another.”

“I don’t care. Do what you want.” I turned away from her and focused my gaze out my window to the campus grounds. I hadn’t even realized she’d moved until she was standing in front of me, peering up at me with that innocent look she wore so well.

She reached out for me and took my hand, her small one trembling as her palm slid along mine.

“I don’t want you to stand there all night. Come on. It’s your room. Sit on your bed. I’ll sit on the floor if you want.”

I hadn't even realized I was following her until I was sitting on my mattress. She released my hand and handed me the remote before she took off her navy-blue cardigan and spread it on the floor for her to sit on.

Before she could drop down on it, I reached out and snagged her by the wrist, not sure what the hell I was doing or why I was doing it.

“Don’t sit on the floor. You can sit with me.”

Her eyes widened as I pulled her to the edge of the bed. She sank down beside me. We both fidgeted awkwardly for a moment. I felt like I was thirteen again with a girl in my bedroom the first time.

I was just about to tell her she could just go back to her room, and I’d stand outside, when she grabbed her bowl of popcorn and slid back, nestling into my pillows. Never had a girl been so bold with me. She crossed her long legs at the ankle and started nibbling on her snack.

“We can watch whatever you want,” she said, munching away. “I’d love to see your favorite movie.”

I rubbed my thumb along the remote for a moment before I turned it on and kicked off my shoes, loosened my tie, and tossed my blazer in a chair. It slid off and landed in a navy puddle on the floor but fuck it. She let out a soft giggle, the sound making my heart race.

A moment later, the opening credits of Die Hard popped on the screen. I cast her a glance out of the corner of my eye to see how she’d react to it. I was met with a vision of her blue eyes locked on the TV and her mouth full of popcorn as she watched, totally engrossed.

Satisfied she wasn’t going to be one of those girls who bitched about an action flick, I contemplated moving back to the dresser but then glanced at her again and noted she didn’t have her apple juice. Some fucked up part of my mind wanted her to have it, so I got up to grab a beer for me and her juice. She peeked up at me as I handed her the juice.

“Thanks.” A tiny, sweet smile lifted her plump lips up as she took it from me. “You can sit next to me. We can share the popcorn.”

I stared down at all the buttery goodness as my guts rumbled softly again.

Hell with it. It was just popcorn and a movie.

I flopped down beside her and grabbed a fistful to stuff in my mouth, my eyes on the TV, but my body acutely aware of her how close she was to me as she sipped her juice. Aware of how her body heated mine. Of her lavender scent. Mindful of the way she shifted a little closer to me.

Fucking stop, Levin. She’s the enemy. Can’t be trusted. Don’t get your dick in a twist just because she looks all sweet and innocent beside you. D’Angelou. She’s a D’Angelou.

I grabbed more popcorn and chewed furiously as my boy Bruce came on the screen. My hand brushed against hers when I went back in for more. She paused for a moment as I instinctively brushed her fingers again.

Shit, what am I doing?