You lift your eyes at Phil. His jaw is tense. And then you feel very, very angry. Bollocks with it, you don’t owe him anything.
“Listen, Phil…” He raises a hand, stopping you.
“Just don’t.” He’s not looking at you and turns away to leave.
“Oh, don’t give me this shite!” you are yelling, but it’s so past your limit of patience for one day! “I’m not asking you where you spent this night. What tent you were shaking last night! Don’t you dare judging me!”
He spins on his heels. “I was comforting you, Wren! I thought some ponce offended you or something. And you are just… from under some wanker!”
You slap him.
“You have no right!” You are screaming into his face. “You are not to talk about keeping it in your pants!”
He snarls and starts leaving. Killian is frozen with his hands still half lifted. He looks at his brother’s back.
“Don’t you dare walking away with your tail between your legs, Killian!” you hiss at him. “You are my ride, and it has nothing to do with you.”
You pin him with a stare and he nods. “Let’s get back.”
You enter your dorm, and since you forgot to knock, you walk on Thea riding some guy. You quickly turn away.
“Oh bollocks, I’m sorry!” You are waving your hand blindly at them. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll just go wait outside, give me a shout when it’s safe to come in.”
You fall on the sofa in the lounge and close your eyes.
The image of Thea’s glorious naked back and buttocks is etched on the back of your eyelids, but it’s better than the two pairs of blue eyes. That you are definitely not thinking about! You rub your face. Fucking fuck! You really cocked it up, didn’t you, Wren?
Forget the getting off in the tent with the God of neurosurgery, that one’s understandable. The opportunity was there, he is as hot as it gets, no surprise there. But why did you offer him to do it without a Durex? That was barmy, and so not you! Alright, let’s choke it on his alleged mind-blowing attractiveness and you fawning over his gifted hands. It probably just made him think of you as more of a slapper, but again, as if he needed any encouragement in the area!.. Phil though…
You feel like dirt. You botched it up, bloody hell! Why did you kiss him back?! Why say that you didn’t want him to take it back? You were so deranged that you just wanted someone to hold you, to care for you. But Phil is absolutely the wrongest choice for it. He was just randy, and you were vulnerable. You jump up and kick the sofa. Tosser! Manky pig! He had no right… He was groping some blonde’s leg when you saw him. It’s not like you agreed on a date with him right after climbing from under his uncle! Oh fuck…
Thea peeks from the room, and you see a guy hastily disappearing in the hall. Is it that hazel-eyed hunk from the North, the postgrad from Genetics? Well done, Thea. You pick up your bags and drag your sorry arse inside. The questioning is imminent.
Three weeks pass, and you tell yourself you are fine. You even laugh about it with Thea.
“Two hot pieces of arse in one night! A Thorington and a Durinson!” She is shaking her head. “And none properly!”
You just smirk and pretend it doesn’t hurt. It still weirdly does. Is it because it seemed like so much more at that time? Lying in Thorington’s arms felt like something more. And then, and that’s even worse, Phil kissing you also felt like something more. How stupid are you, Wren, to fall for either?
You stop yourself right there, right then. You have not fallen for the dirtiest stud in uni after one kiss! You love Phil, as a friend, you hang out together, you have fun. Well, not anymore. You haven’t seen him since.
Maybe you can even fix it somehow. Joke it off, talk through it. You both were weird that morning, you kissed, no biggie. You both do it a lot. With other people. Why not with each other? You obviously are attracted to each other. Sleeping with each other would be bloody stupid, but surely you can salvage some friendly feelings between the two of you.
You bury your face into your pillow at night, and your mind wildly jumps between two hot bodies, pressed in you. Bollocks, at least choose one to obsess over. You shake your head. Banging that same head into a wall does not help much either.
Another week later Deadre Durinson gets into a car accident. It’s nothing serious but everyone knows, since the wanker who rammed into her car was a Med Student. They say that Thorington has gone mental and wants to kick the guy out of the uni. Knowing his influence, he very much might.
You ring Killian.
“Hey, it’s me. Sorry to bother you but…”
You hear him talking to someone near him. “Yes, yes, it’s her… I’ll tell her. Hey!” He’s back to you.
“Listen, don’t want to impose, just wanted to know how your mum is.”
“She’s fine, they keep her here for observation, but she’s fine. She says you can visit if you want.”
You write down the room number and pace around your dorm for another half an hour. Are you seriously going there? Which one are you worried to see more?
You buy her favourite daffodils and put on your best dress. Whatever your transgressions with her men were – God, please, please, let her never find out – you really want to visit.
They are both standing in the hospital, facing each other, leaning on the opposite walls of the corridor. They turn their heads simultaneously, and you just want to fall through the tiled floor. But even in your embarrassed mortification, you can appreciate the picture. Two manes, gold and ebony, expensive jumpers over white tees, muscular wide bodies relaxed. Thea would say, the mind races. You are bloody depraved, Wren.
You plaster a polite smile on your face.
“Hello.” Good, Wren, manners are important. “How is she?”
They look at each other, and you have a terrifying thought that they actually somehow found out and discussed it between themselves. Thorington steps forward and stretches his hand.
“Wren, right?” Oh, we are playing it this way!
You shake the hand – definitely not thinking about it rubbing your ankle in intoxicating scorching circles, fuck it all – and smile.
“Yes, Leary. I study with Phil.” Who is currently staring at his trainers.
“Hey.” You look at him from around the massive torso of his uncle.
“Hey.” Phil’s tone is flat.
Thorington is towering over you. “She is fine, they are releasing her in an hour.” He does have an orgasmic voice. You shiver and for the first time look into the blue eyes. They are cautious, cold. You tell yourself that all the tenderness and warmth you saw that night were a fruit of your hormonally unstabilised imagination. “Let me walk you there.”
“I’ll take her.” Phil steps forward and for a second you see hesitation on Thorington’s face. Phil is lifting his chin.
Oh, from where you are standing, at this stage it’s pretty much same shite.
“Sure.” Thorington gives him a plastic smile and steps back. His eyes didn’t warm up for a second. “It was nice seeing you, Miss Leary.”
You start walking and Phil joins you. You turn around for a mo. “You too, Dr. Thorington.”