Midnight Muse

The guy that was all over Quinn slinks over to Pipa and her roommates, seamlessly joining their conversation. My eyes narrow when he sidles up a little too close to Pipa, but she doesn’t seem to mind, and even bats her eyelashes at him when he smiles at her.

“Who’s the guy?” I mutter, and I hate that I care.

“Oh, that’s Quinn’s older brother, Sam,” Slate fills me in, pouring another round of shots for Ace and I. Ugh, I really hope it’s something different than whatever hellish liquid I just had in my mouth. “He flew in specifically for this party. I think he has thing for Peep.”

Of course, now I feel like an idiot for thinking they were something more when they have the exact same eyes. The longer I study him the more I realize that they do have other similar features: the shapes of their faces and the strong lines of their noses. How did I not notice before?

Because you were blind with jealousy, my mind supplies. I toss that thought back with another swig of my drink.

“C’mon, Knox,” Ace warns, and I don’t even realize that I’m still glaring at Sam until I see the sharp look on his face. The one that tells me not to do anything stupid, which is stupid in itself because I wasn’t going to do a damn thing about some random guy with his arm around Quinn’s shoulders. I wasn’t going to do a damn thing at all. “It’s your turn to make a toast.”

I don’t want to but Slate’s looking at me like an eager puppy, more than ready to turn this house upside down.

I’m not good at making toasts and I don’t want to, so I say, lamely, “Go Pintos.”

“Yee-haw!” Slate slams his back like a pro, and I know it’s going to be a long night.

Yee-haw, indeed, I think, and then I take my shot.

CHAPTER 10

QUINN

For the first time this semester, I feel at ease.

Sitting in the middle of the commons on the lush grass, I’m leaning against one of the biggest oak trees on campus. The bark is rough where it presses through the fabric of my shirt; it’s like my own little acupuncture therapy while my head is buried deep in my sketchbook, the urge to draw lingering from the weekend.

I’m waiting for Rory to arrive so that we can spend our lunch hour together. She texted me saying she would bring sandwiches and snacks and meet me after my Art History class ended, so here I am.

That’s right, not even horrible Art History can wreck my mood today. The rest of the weekend had been good. Peep’s party was a success, especially when Rory and I caught her and Sam pressed up against the wall in the hall, making out. Yeah, it was a little gross watching my older brother with his tongue down Peep’s throat, but hey, if something happens between them and they end up together, Rory and I will be in-laws, so I’m rooting for them!

There was something about the party that stirred up this sudden inspiration. Through the bits that I can remember, I could always feel Knox’s eyes on me. When I was in the kitchen with Sam’s arm slung over my shoulder, when Rory and I went to dance in the living room, when she and I snuck off to the bathroom together because—hello?—power in numbers.

Slate dragged Ace and Knox into a tight circle with us at one point, and I remember laughing and laughing until the happy ache in my cheeks went numb with alcohol. I think it had been Slate’s goal to distract us with each other because I’m pretty sure he disappeared sometime shortly after that.

The intensity in which Knox had looked at me hadn’t been lost on me. It made me nervous, from his normal harsh glare to when he eased up the more he drank. I hadn’t been able to decipher his expression then, but it’s been stuck in my mind since.

Hence, the drawing.

I’m adding the finishing touches to those thick, dark lashes of his, so intently focused on the piece that I barely notice the sound of footsteps approaching before a sudden, “I’ll see you later,” startles me from my stupor.

Looking up, I scramble to snap my sketchbook shut when I see it’s Rory. She’s not alone, Ace, Slate, and Knox trail her, though the latter of the group looks betrayed as he glares at his roommates. My stomach falls with disappointment at his scowl. He clearly doesn’t want to be in my presence.

It’s a good thing he’s distracted because I can’t help but stare. Knox is in his usual garb, wearing a black long sleeve shirt, covering the beautiful tattoos that line his arms. I think he does this to hide the very things I’m interested in seeing. That scarred skin I’ve only seen a sliver of while he was working on his bike a few weeks ago has piqued my interest, even though I’m still irritated by his previous actions.

Knox turns, shoving his hands deeply in his pockets as if he can feel my lingering gaze, but Ace stops him with a firm hand on his arm, dragging him to a halt. I watch Knox’s body go still, his spine straightening as his entire demeanor changes.

I can’t hear what they’re murmuring to each other but Rory’s stepping forward to settle down across from me, her arms loaded with our lunchtime essentials.

I take the sandwich she offers me, murmuring a thanks. I wonder what Ace is whispering to Knox because he looks almost apologetic, carefully removing his hand from his friend’s arm. Knox rolls his broad shoulders and relaxes slightly, muttering something back to Ace before the three roommates join our circle.

To my utter surprise, Knox sits beside me. I think it’s because Ace flanks Rory’s other side and Slate takes up the space of two grown men, but he shoves himself down onto his ass nonetheless. Knox’s dark brows are furrowed deeply as he scowls at the grass. He looks about as enthusiastic to be joining us for lunch as a sculpture with its arms cut off.

I set my sketchbook aside even though this is the first burst of inspiration I’ve had in the handful of weeks since classes have started. I’ve missed that familiar feeling rushing through my veins, the one where I lose hours upon hours drawing, not wanting to break from my work until it’s done. It’s refreshing and long-awaited and I want to bask in it.

If only it hadn’t come from the boy sitting beside me.

Unwrapping my sandwich gives me something to do, something to look at instead of Knox, who’s making it clear by his silence that he’d rather be anywhere else but here. I wonder why he’s staying when he’s a grown man and has the ability to leave and sulk elsewhere.