{ BOOK 1 of the SANITY SERIES }
Secrets are made to stay hidden, and people will take any means necessary to keep it that way.
But to April Levesque and Derek Matthews, silence has no place in their worlds.
...
Derek walked me home. His Security didn't accompany him tonight. He mentioned they're on the way to pick him up. His outfit camouflages with obscurity: cargo trousers, the bomber jacket is buff enough to enshroud his muscles, unveiling the strong column of his wide neck; the hood stapled strands of his jet-black hair to his forehead. The porch's light flares, his stare a pair of glowing spheres.
"Will you be joining the protest?"
In a couple of days is the school protest for Bodie Banks. "I don't know."
Truthfully, I will feel safer protesting next to him. I don't know why. Maybe it's because we have trust — he is a person of respect and awareness.
It was fun today. Our conversations are enjoyable. His kinks ... I should have expected that. It's kind of hot. I did envision what it would be like to have sex with him — for a second! I know, I know. I shouldn't. I'm not interested in relationships. He isn't either. But that mischievous glister in his hair-raising eyes ... It was transfixing. Again, I won't tell him that.
The Matthews Brothers having threesomes - Okay, April. Enough.
I thought those types of discussions would be off-putting, considering the assaults. I feel proud it didn't — I wanted to push through that ceiling, that barrier, and overcome my fears, one brick at a time, and I don't care if the pace is slow or hasty.
By my house, I stop in front of him. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Try not to make up scenarios about me to help you sleep."
This guy ...
"You need help sleeping more than I do."
He whistles. "Touche, Levesque." He hesitantly unravels his arms. "Perhaps a goodnight hug could help me sleep."
I gasp. "From me?"
"You give the best hugs."
That fond smile aches my face muscles. I embrace him tightly, hands locked onto his wide shoulders. Engulfed in the snug, chunky sleeves of his bomber jacket, my face pressed into his chest, he feels like a teddy bear. I spontaneously inhale his strong, princely scent of pine, power and justice. Platonic, nonetheless a glister of a foreign emotion I couldn't quite fathom — his or mine, or both.
I can hug the opposite sex.
I am hugging the opposite sex.
I don't feel afraid.
Around Derek Lysander Tobias Matthews, I like myself better.
I do something impulsive. I lift to my tip-toes and offer a kiss, a friendly kiss, to his left cheek, on that wretched, charming scar his wretched father gave, and he falters. I love that scar. I'm sure a thousand others love it, too. The way it scrunches and briefly disappears within a simper ... It is a whisper of his whole story; the physical, marred tear.
I step back. "Goodnight, Derek."
Trying to recover, he — Wait, is that a blush? "Sweet—sweet dreams."
I swear his smile was the biggest smile I've ever seen.
🌷
apologies for such a short chapter.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
