Crimson Bound (Blood Oath #7)

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

T he next morning, footsteps echo down the hallway toward the kitchen where I’m pouring a mug of fresh coffee. After adding milk and sugar, I turn to put the carton back in the fridge and pause when my gaze lands on Maverick standing in the doorway in a navy three-piece suit.

“Good morning.” He grins softly, and my cheeks flush as my eyes linger on him longer than they should. “Everything alright? You’re looking at me strangely.”

“I, um—” I stutter, then clear my throat. “Everything’s fine.”

The smirk playing on his lips paired with the way he holds my gaze causes my stomach to flip flop. I turn back to the counter to grab my mug, taking a deep breath.

I need to get out of here.

Before I have a chance to leave, he reaches above me to grab his usual black travel mug. The smell of his cologne overtakes my senses, and my body buzzes with the desire to close the distance between us.

His chest brushes my back, and I let out a small gasp before I can stop myself. His body is hard against mine, and I use all of the self control I have to not push back into him. The familiar buzz I’ve been feeling around him has returned with a fiery vengeance, and I have to close my eyes to focus enough just to breathe. He’s taking his time grabbing his mug, as if he’s moving in slow motion on purpose.

Finally, he moves away, taking the heat of his proximity with him.

Oh, dear god.

Before I know it, he’s made his coffee and is leaving the kitchen, while I continue to stand there like a statue, unable to snap myself out of a daze.

“Have a good day, Eden,” he calls to me without looking back, and I watch him walk away before I lean against the counter, releasing the air from my lungs.

I need a distraction. Anything to combat the awkward feeling currently taking hold of my body. So I grab one of my mom’s cookbooks and flip to my favorite recipe: maple frosted apple blondies. Pulling out everything I need, I set it on the counter along with the measuring cups and kitchen mixer, and preheat the oven.

After mixing the ingredients into batter, I transfer it from the bowl to the baking pan and slide it into the oven. As I’m combining the ingredients for the maple frosting, longing hits me hard in the chest. Mom and I used to bake this dessert every Thanksgiving. It’s a special treat for the holidays, but something felt right about baking them today, especially since I haven’t been feeling like myself as of late. That said, I can’t pin down exactly what I’m feeling.

I’m torn over missing my mom—her laughter, her smile, her warm hugs…Made even more complicated by the lingering butterflies I’ve had in my stomach since the interactions with Maverick last night and this morning.

He and Mom weren’t truly in a relationship for a long time. The tension between them was palpable; it was painfully clear they weren’t happy for a while. Before my mom was diagnosed, she was rarely home—and when she was, they avoided each other. That only changed after we received the prognosis. Even though they didn’t love one another anymore, we stayed in their house, and Maverick took care of us, ensuring Mom had the best medical care.

It’s clear Maverick cares—then and now—otherwise, why would he have me stay here? The man owes me nothing, yet the generosity he’s offering is significant.

The beeping oven timer pulls me from my thoughts, and I snap out of my thought spiral to the sweet aroma of the blondies. I pull them out of the oven and finish whipping the maple frosting together.

“Hey, Eden.” Luke walks in and glances at the pan in front of me. He’s about to grab one when I smack his hand away.

“Not yet, they’re still cooling!” I laugh, putting my arms out to block him from getting to them.

He pouts. “When can I have one of whatever they are?”

“They’re maple frosted apple blondies.” I turn to put them on a cooling rack and start the most dreadful part of baking—washing the pans. I love baking, but the minute I have to clean up, I remember why I don’t do it often. It was much easier when it was Mom and me, because we used to divide and conquer. I’m jolted from my thoughts when Luke speaks again.

“Mmm, they sound delicious. Maybe by the time this conversation is done I can have one.” He winks, and I roll my eyes as I load the dishwasher with utensils and bowls.

Luke’s had a carefree spirit for as long as I’ve known him. Almost every time we’ve spoken he’s either made me laugh or brought a smile to my face—or both. He’s the total opposite of his brother; the light to Rhys’s darkness. And Maverick seems like the mix of the two, because although he’s kind, he has a darker side to him, one I’ve only witnessed brief glimpses of over the years.

“There’s a party tonight at my friend’s house, and I was hoping you’d come with me.”

I pause. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that. The thought of being around so many people makes my skin itch. But I guess it could be good for me to get out of the house, to distract myself from everything and have fun.

“I can see the cogs in your brain moving. Just say yes and then I won’t throw you over my shoulder and force you to come with me.” A grin plays on his lips.

“I—I’m not sure if I’m ready to go to a party…” I say in a low voice.

“How about we go to the party and the minute you feel uncomfortable, you tell me and we’ll leave.” He leans beside me against the counter and faces me, waiting.

My eyes flit across his face before I say, “Promise?”

He nods. “I promise. The last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable, especially considering everything that’s happened lately.” He pauses. “Plus, I’d love to see a smile light up that pretty face of yours and for you to enjoy a night out rather than staying stuck in this house.” He smiles, and my heart flutters at his words.

Maybe going out won’t be so bad.

“Fine, I’ll go with you,” I surrender with a little smile.

A few hours later and a healthy amount of blondies in both my and Luke’s stomachs, I’m getting ready for the party. I curl my hair into soft waves, then stand in my closet, trying to figure out what to wear. I try on a few different options before settling on a black skin-tight bodysuit that makes my boobs look perky without having to wear a bra and wide leg linen brown pants that hug my ass. I’m going to be out of my element at the party, so I figure I should at least try to be comfortable clothing wise. Turning in the mirror, I scan my appearance and nod with approval, deciding I look pretty decent for someone who still finds it near impossible to drag herself out of bed most days.

When I meet Luke at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes travel down my body, and my skin tingles with awareness. His nostrils flare and his gaze connects with mine. I blink, and it’s as if his reaction never happened. He’s back to his smiling, cool-as-a-cucumber self.

“You look good, Eden.” He winks as I reach the bottom step and he opens the door for me to follow.

“Um, thanks.” My cheeks flush under his gaze, and the warmth travels much lower—a subtle reminder I need to get a grip on my damn hormones. These days it feels as if they’re working in overdrive, and I’m worried I’ll end up losing control at the worst possible moment.

When we arrive at the party, the street is filled with people who appear mostly around our age, with red solo cups in their hands and differing levels of sobriety. Some people are standing in groups on the sidewalk chatting, whereas others are inside their cars getting frisky if the fogged-up windows are any indication.

“I’m not drinking tonight, so feel free to enjoy yourself,” Luke says as he gets out of the car, and I can’t help the fluttering in my stomach as he walks around and opens my door, offering me his hand. I’m sliding my fingers through his before I can think anything of it, letting him help me out. When he doesn’t let go as we walk away from the car, a smile tugs at my mouth. Sure, maybe I shouldn’t be feeling this way holding hands with my stepbrother, but it’s been a long fucking week. I’m giving myself this tiny moment of happiness without letting my own thoughts ruin it.

I follow Luke toward the house and cringe at the beat-up exterior. This place looks as if it’s seen way too many parties. The broken window coverings, faded purple paint of the frat symbol on the door, and mailbox hanging by the hinges is the easiest way to know this house isn’t taken care of very well. Not at all, more likely.

We walk into the party, and there are even more people—students mostly, I’d guess—inside than there was outside. Some are dancing, some are playing drinking games, and others are just chatting with friends. The atmosphere is subdued compared to some parties I’ve gone to with Azra, but I don’t mind it at all. Laidback hangouts are more my vibe anyway.

“Luke, my man!” some guy shouts from across the room, and Luke catches my arm, leaning in the speak in my ear.

“You okay?” he asks, concern flickering in his gaze when he pulls back to look at me.

“I’m fine, Luke. No need to babysit,” I say playfully, and he smirks, nodding and heading in the direction of the guy who called out to him.

I walk around, twisting my body around others to make my way to the messy kitchen. Boxes of beer are stacked against one wall, and it doesn’t look as if anyone actually cooks in here based on the pile of take-out containers overflowing from the garbage in the corner. I shudder as I find a cooler on the counter and grab a drink. I don’t recognize anyone in the kitchen, so I walk back to the living room where the party is in full swing, I spot a few girls from my program and head toward them when they wave me over.

“Hey, Eden!” Sam greets with a wave of her beer bottle.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Marci adds, lifting her cup to tap mine in cheers.

“Oh, um, yeah. I came with Luke.” I nod in the direction of where he’s chatting with his friends.

“He is so gorgeous.” Marci takes a swig of her drink, tossing her blond waves over her bare shoulder.

“Agreed,” Clarke chimes in. “He’s in one of my electives this semester.” She fans her face, and I laugh as they start chatting about guys from our classes they think are attractive.

While they discuss, I turn my attention to the rest of the room, taking in my surroundings. My gaze connects with Luke’s, and I get a good look at him for the first time tonight. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans and a black T-shirt that stretches across his torso. The veins on his arms stand prominently, and I press my lips together. Lifting my gaze, I realize he’s been watching me the entire time. A smirk plays on his lips, and I quickly turn my attention back to the girls.

I try to participate in the conversation, but my thoughts wander, and I start wondering what it would feel like to have Luke’s lips on mine. His body pressed against me. Would he be sweet and gentle like his personality? Or would he be rough and hard, the opposite of his normal self? The idea makes me shiver, and goosebumps break out over my bare arms.

Still locked in my daydream, I jump when a hand lands on my hip, whirling around to snap at the owner, but I don’t get the chance before he speaks.

“Hey, you’re Luke’s sister, right?” The guy drops his hand back to his side as I give him a once-over. He’s dressed basically the same as every other guy here: jeans, plain T-shirt, and running shoes. His hair is deep brown, styled messily, and matches his eyes, which are friendly in a way that makes me relax instantly. That, and I recognize him to be one of Luke’s pals.

I find myself laughing, because a few months ago I would have said yes, but now I don’t want to. I’m not sure if it’s because we technically aren’t family anymore, or if it’s because of the thoughts I’ve been having more and more about the Adrian men.

“We used to be stepsiblings, but not anymore.” I gulp down a few mouthfuls of my drink.

“Right, yeah. I’m sorry to hear about your mom’s passing.”

I blink at him, somewhat surprised he knows about that, though I guess maybe I shouldn’t be, considering he’s friends with Luke, and she was his stepmother. “Thank you,” I say.

“I’m Adam, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.” He sticks out his hand, and I slide my palm into his, shaking it as he pulls me closer. “Want to dance?” he asks.

I hesitate but quickly decide—with a little help from the liquid courage coursing through my veins—it might be fun. I came out for a distraction from, well, everything, and being here, dancing with Adam seems like a decent option.

Adam guides me to the dance floor and spins me around, bringing me back so that my back is against his chest. After a few moments of dancing and laughing, I look up to find Luke staring at me, his features darkened with annoyance.

Before I have a chance to decipher what that could possibly mean, Adam spins me around again so we’re facing each other and moving in what feels like slow motion. He lifts a hand to my neck and leans in, as if he’s going to kiss me, and my breath catches in my throat.

“Eden, it’s time to go.” A rough voice comes from behind, and I don’t even realize it’s Luke’s until Adam shifts out of the way and our gazes collide.

“Come on, man. It’s still early,” Adam says, grinning at his friend.

Luke’s eyes darken, and he grabs my hand a little too forcefully, making me fall into him. Sparks ignite across my skin where we touch, and I suck in a breath, my eyes widening as I pull away from him.

“It’s already past one. Have a good night.” Luke nods to Adam and catches my wrist before heading toward the front of the house. I manage a quick wave to my friends before we’re out the door, and frown at Luke’s back as he stomps across the lawn.

“Why are you in such a rush?” I grumble, forcing myself to walk faster to keep up with his pace.

“It’s late,” he answers stiffly, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I’m not used to this broody attitude from him. It reminds me of Rhys, and I don’t like it.

We get into the car, and I try to ignore the heavy silence and tension lingering in the air between us.

I glance over at him, frowning at his stormy appearance. His jaw is set tight and he’s gripping the steering wheel to the point his knuckles are white.

“What is going through your head right now?” I ask, turning toward him, and it's as if a switch is flipped as his features relax, bringing back calm and collected Luke. I shake my head in confusion, waiting for him to provide an explanation.

“Sorry. Nothing is wrong. I’m just tired from studying all day.” He glances over and smiles at me. The tension in the car seems to have lifted, but the confusion inside me hasn’t gone anywhere.

Luke was fine until he found me dancing with Adam, and then all of a sudden we had to leave the party? He was the one who told me to enjoy myself tonight, so what gives?

The question is on the tip of my tongue when realization dawns on me, and I turn my gaze away, heat blossoming in my cheeks.

Holy shit. Is Luke jealous?