Into the Stars (USC Series Book #2)

chapter twenty-seven

INTO THE STARS
———
BRINLEY

"I turned out liking you a lot more than I thought I would," Malachi murmurs beneath his breath, his comment dissipating in the snowy night air and shocking me ever so slightly.

"What makes you say that?"

He shrugs, his gaze focused on the ground rather than the night sky like it normally is whenever we are out here. "Just a thought that occurred to me."

After the truth or dare game tonight, I loitered downstairs and helped clean up with the others. Afterward, I was too buzzed to sleep, so I settled on passing my time on the balcony. And it just so happens that I stumbled across Malachi when I opened the door.

"I don't wanna go back," Malachi tells me, his words slurring a little, and I can't help but internally agree.

"Why's that?" 

Malachi remains silent and besides the icy night breeze and the rise and fall of our breathing, I cannot focus on anything except solely on him.

"Shit is going to blow up and... I don't think I can handle it."

I keep my mouth closed in the hopes he will let his guard down. Even if it is just momentarily.

In the past week, Malachi has shown me the tiniest glimpses of who he is, and I can't help but crave more and more. Everything about him is captivating, but I need to have a bit of patience. In a way, I think I am enchanted by him and the tidbits he gives me.

"I got a phone call the other day..." he breathes out and I am unsure who is listening more to his words: myself or him. "From the prison my dad is in."

A humorless—and heartbreakingly forlorn—laugh falls from his lips. I heard my sharp and sudden intake of air in the silence and I am sure he did as well, but Malachi remains sullen, slumped in his chair, fiddling with his hands.

He slouches further into his chair, running his fingers through his hair, the strands falling messily across his forehead when he finally stops. Each inhale and exhale, I can hear, and I realize that is his way of calming himself down. Finding something to fixate on that isn't what is troubling you soothes the mind.

"He is in a coma and... I don't know why I am so torn up about it. The motherfucker deserves it for the hell he has put me and my brother through, but..." he trails off, his even breathing returning while he sorts through his thoughts once more.

My gaze remains on Malachi. The moon casts a mysterious shadow over his side profile, looking... utterly fascinating. Each angle and curve of his face is more gorgeous than I think he realizes. The rise and fall of his broad, muscular shoulders and his long legs stretch out in front as he rests on his forearms on his thighs.

He is one of the uniquest people I have ever come across in my twenty-one years of living. Correction: the most unique individual I have met.

Malachi shuts his eyes, leaning back into his chair, legs extended forward, and his knee bounces up and down anxiously. I watch his rapid bouncing for a moment before I break the silence, my chair scraping on the balcony flooring to move closer to him. His eyes flit to me, but he doesn't ask questions or say anything.

It isn't until my chair is adjacent to his, with only a few inches of space between us. I rest my hand on his thigh, halting the bouncing. I can feel his gaze glue to my profile as I stare straight ahead at the clear night sky and the stars.

Silence permeates the cold air, but I can feel the warmth radiating off of Malachi and when his hand intertwines with mine, a fire sparks up the length of my arm, heating my whole body within a few seconds. I refrain from looking at him again because I don't need to. His warmth and touch are enough to set my body on fire and I don't think I'll survive the bomb that'll explode with his gorgeous face added to it.