Page 75 of Rejected Hollow

The noise grew louder as we approached the south corridor. The quiz had just finished, and students were spilling out of the common rooms in twos and threes, laughing, lingering in doorways, and slowly making their way back toward their rooms.

Then we stepped into view.

I was barefoot and nearly blind, wearing nothing but Jax's shirt, with my wet hair dripping down my back. Beside me, Jax was bare-chested, completely unconcerned, and holding my hand as though there was nothing remotely unusual about any of it.

Every head turned.

I didn't have to see their faces clearly to know they were looking.

Choosing this in the quiet of the Baths had felt possible. Standing in the middle of all those people was different. My courage vanished so quickly that my fingers started to loosen from his.

Jax stopped.

He didn't tighten his grip or try to pull me forward.

"Still with me?" he asked quietly.

The back stair was still there. I could turn around, and I knew he would take me back without saying a word about it.

I threaded my fingers more firmly through his.

"Keep going."

His grin appeared.

"Chin up, reina." Then he raised his voice until it carried through the vaulted gallery. "Make way, please! Coming through! Most beautiful woman on this island coming through. Gracias, thank you, eyes front."

Someone laughed.

Jax turned his head toward the sound.

The laughter stopped.

"No, actually, you know what? Look," he continued, addressing the entire gallery with cheerful confidence. "Go ahead. Look at those legs. Have you ever seen thighs like that? I haven't, and believe me, I've been looking. I've been looking for weeks. Best ass on Ironmoor, and I'm including my own in that assessment, which is saying something because mine is excellent."

He swung our joined hands slightly as we walked.

"She's soft, she's gorgeous, and she's cleverer than every single one of you. She's also wearing my shirt, so if anybody has something to say about it, you can say it to me."

Nobody did.

In the silence that followed, the ache beneath my breastbone pulled suddenly toward the gallery above us.

I looked up before I could stop myself.

A figure dressed in black stood at the railing.

Without my glasses, I couldn't make out his face, but I could see his hands wrapped around the iron. His knuckles had gone white, and his entire body was angled past me toward the cluster of Fenhall students near the stairs.

Toward the dark-haired girl holding the phone.

I didn't need the bond to know he was furious. The iron beneath his hands was beginning to bend.

Jax felt my fingers tighten around his and followed my gaze.

For a second, the two men looked at each other across the gallery.

Then Jax smiled, bright and unmistakably deliberate, lifted our joined hands a little higher, and kept walking.