Page 28 of Inked in Bloom
The box squeaks open, and Skylar’s eyes shift from my roommate to me, skimming from my heels up my bare legs and short dress before landing on my face. “Didn’t recognize you outside of class.”
“Could say the same for you,” I say appreciatively.
She taps her chin. “Monroe, right?”
“That’s right.” I’m impressed she remembers, but I guess running out of class on the first day is hard to forget.
“Well, now that you’re here,” she wavesat Roxy who’s come up behind us, “any takers to join me in the booth—for dancing, that is.”
Skylar’s eyes flit to a few booths over where two harbingers are dancing seductively, the taller one with his arm banded around the other’s middle, hand tucked beneath the waistband of his unbuttoned jeans. They move so gracefully, the flowers twine their limbs like a living art display, it takes a few moments to register what’s truly taking place. My chest up through my neck burns. I busy my hands, tucking the strands of the mint green plastered to my forehead back behind my ears.
I must zone out from the hypnotic duo because a moment later, I’m tugged into the booth. As soon as the door shuts behind me, it’s clear these are made for only one or two people. The four of us make do, though, and I close my eyes, pretending there’s no one else here, and dance to the music.
By the time Skylar’s session is up, we are all dripping with sweat, tripping over each other as we step out onto the dance floor.
“Water,” I say, fanning myself and making a beeline for the bar. I grab four glasses and pass them out, draining mine in six long swigs. Skylar’s brows furrow, but then her attention snags on something.
I crane my neck, and Cherri catches my chin. Cradling my jaw, she twists my attention back to her. “Just look anywhere but behind you, okay?”
“Why?” I frown between her fingers cupping my face.
“Your Sir Thumps-A-Lot is here.”
I rear back from her grasp.
“What?” Before I can stop myself, I turn and spot Briar fucking Bloom standing in the doorway. He looks annoyed, like this is the last place hewants to be. “He’s notmyanything. Unless you’re referring to him being a nuisance.”
He’s well over six feet tall and looking at him makes it hard to reconcile that I’ve held him on numerous occasions—in his bunny form, of course, but still.
“Maybe they are here looking for someone to join them?” Cherri sighs as Kitt and Tess peer out from behind him.
“Are you volunteering?” I can’t help but laugh at hownot subtleshe is. “They’re our professors.”
“True, but they’re also adults. Who knows…maybe we’ll be one of those triad mate instances. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s possible.” She brings a palm to her chest. “I mean, look at them.”
“I’d rather not.” They’re standing far too close to the last person I want to see tonight.
Snapping out of her lusty haze, Cherri’s tone turns serious. She takes my hands. “Let’s go somewhere else.”
I watch the professors head into the crowd and then tear my gaze away, not wanting Briar to see me here. Replaying the mortifying moment in class when I realized who he was, I step back. “No, that won’t be necessary. I think it’s too soon for me to be out.”
Cherri frowns.
“You should stay.” It’s clear she wants another shot with our professors and Roxy’s busy shaking her tail on the dance floor with Skylar. “Both of you. I’ll call it a night and see you back at the cottage.”
If I have to deal with Briar, I don’t think I’ll be able to regulate my emotions. I don’t want to embarrass myself again. Showing my face in class tomorrow is going to be hard enough.
“Are you s?—”
“Absolutely.” I hold up a hand, stopping her. “Don’t worry, I know the way back.”
I did not knowthe way back.
After wandering along the absolutely wrong corridor and seeing The Nestling Fields up close, I sprint down the dimly lit hall of mirrors and run straight into a wall—of muscles.
A tight black shirt outlines every divot and dip that I’ve unfortunately committed to memory.
My face is already hot from all the banging Blooms I’ve encountered this evening, and it flushes further as I drag my stare up the weaving vines climbing out from the V-neckline of Briar’s shirt. His tattoos stop at a sharply tense jaw that’s covered by a trim deep-purple beard.
