Page 149 of The Devil We Crave
She scowls. “You got acall? I just got a sloppy-ass text I could barely decipher except that she was at some St. Thomas party.” She whirls, scanning the empty living room. “We went to find her, but someone said she left?—”
“She’s fine,” I growl, handing her my beer because she looks like she could use one. “I picked her and Demi up and brought them home. Your mom and dad are putting her to bed upstairs.”
Selene’s shoulders unclench, and she exhales slowly.
“Fuck,” she shakes her head. “I was really freaked out, you know?” She takes a heavy swig of the beer. “She’s okay, though?”
“I mean, she’s shitfaced,” I chuckle. “And reeks like a vodka distillery. She’s going to wish for death tomorrow morning.” I shrug. “But she’ll be fine after a cheeseburger and fries.”
Selene smiles wryly. “Thank you for coming to get her,” she says quietly. “Should I go up there?”
I shake my head. “She’s passed out, and I think your parents have it handled.”
She nods and follows me back into the kitchen. I grab another beer from the fridge and crack it open, taking a sip as I eye her.
“What?”
“When did she text you?”
Selene shrugs. “Maybe nine-thirty, why?”
Eva called me at nine, and I’ve got a heavy gas foot.
My brow furrows. “Just… How’d you get here so fast?”
My cousin frowns. “Huh?”
“How’d you get from campus to Manhattan so quickly? Your sister called me to come get her half an hour before she texted you, and you still only got here ten minutes after I did.” My brow arches. “Not to mention, you don’t drive.”
Selene’s eyes tighten for a second before she takes a sip of beer and shrugs. “A friend drove me.”
“Which friend?”
She rolls her eyes. “Just afriend, Achilles. Relax.”
“Fast fucking friend,” I growl.
“Yeah, well, Lamborghinisarefast,” she says dryly, pulling out her phone.
My gaze lands on her neck, just above the collar of her shirt, and I tense.
“Which friend of yours drives a lambo?”
Selene sighs heavily and puts her phone down. “Dude, what is your deal?”
“Just answer the question.”
She rolls her eyes. “What does it matter?”
“It matters if that friend gave youthat,” I growl, nodding my chin at the bite mark on her neck.
Selene turns scarlet, the corners of her mouth drooping a little before she swallows and shakes it off.
“His name is Nunaya,” she mutters, adjusting her collar.
I frown. “What?”
“He’s a new foreign exchange student at Knightsblood,” she says sweetly. “His full name is Nunaya Fucking Business.”
