Chapter 57

“Sorry,” Jackson says, frowning a little at me as he continues to hold the plate out, his own dinner plate in his hand. “You…said to come for dinner. Should I…not have come?”

“N–no,” I stammer, taking the plate from him and shaking my head. “Of course, Jackson. Forgive me…I just….lost track of time.”

He shrugs, the corner of his lip turning up. “Happens to the best of us. So…” he says, straightening up and holding his plate with two hands, glancing over his shoulder at the packed room. “Where should we…”

I look with him, a little surprised to see all four of the usually chatty boys eating quietly, bent over their own textbooks. And then I scowl, realizing that there’s absolutely no room for Jackson and I to comfortably sit.

“Best plan,” Luca offers, glancing up towards us, “is probably just to settle yourself into the Shrimp Nook. Plenty of room in there.”

Rafe snaps his head up, scowling at Luca, and I clench my own teeth.

Because Luca – he doesn’t know just how far he’s pushing his “I don’t care” attitude. He’s trying to embarrass me, but if he knew precisely who he was inviting to sit in my bed with me? He’d flip out.

Luca just smirks, unable to hide it as he focuses on his book.

Jackson turns to me, raising an eyebrow.

But I just sigh and gesture at the other half of my bed, inviting Jackson to take a seat.

As he does, my wolf yips with happiness, pouncing excitedly in my soul. Close the curtain!, she urges, nearly delirious at the smell of Jackson so close in our personal space, see if you can get him to take off his shirt!

I grown inwardly, trying to shove her away, but she just ignores me, continuing to spin.

Rafe clears his throat and my eyes dart immediately to him as he glares at me. But I just

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sigh, and shrug, and look meaningfully at the curtain, which is wide open.

His glare intensifies but I roll my eyes. Because honestly, even if Jackson is my mate and is technically on my bed, what the hell does Rafe think is going to happen with the curtain open and an audience of four spread directly in front of us?

you can get Jackson to slip under the covers with us…

says, turning towards me as he unrolls his fork and knife from his napkin and settles his plate on his knee. “Where

twines egg noodles onto his fork before stabbing a meatball, lifting both to his mouth. I can’t help it

and frowns at my elongated silence before

why is he so gorgeous

myself to concentrate, to remember what he’s here for. “Oh, um,” I say, suddenly turning towards my bedside table and looking for the marble. Jackson’s hand snaps out, catching

“Careful,” he murmurs.

setting it between us when I sit back up

looking down at the marble. “Are you comfortable?”

my bed, and my pillows, and my chemistry book,

my blankets. I take another bite of my dinner before

I turn to Jackson, swallowing my food, I’m shocked to find a little

ask,

frown, staring at the strong lines of his profile – his straight nose, his square jaw, the shaggy brown hair

though I admit that my gaze drifts up to where Rafe is scowling in his chair and Luca looks completely unperturbed, reading his text like it’s the most fascinating

say, holding out my hand to Jackson. When he doesn’t take it, I turn to him, surprised – because…I mean, Alvez said we had

meet my gaze. “I mean,” he says, soft enough to not be overheard, “what if

address the connection between us. Because even though I know we’re both aware of it, this is the

then shrug. “Maybe it will help,” I whisper back, dropping my hand to the blanket between us but still keeping it palm up. “I mean, isn’t that what Alvez was saying? That magic calls to magic? Maybe that…thing…is

everyone else in the room. “But why,” he says, frustration on the edge of his voice, “does your magic call to mine?

me then, because I know the answer to that question.

I’m deliberately keeping it from him.

me, begging me to just tell him, to let him

in on it.

still way too much at

me know that he’s well aware that I’m lying. He doesn’t know what, but he knows I’m keeping something. from him. He turns his eyes away from me, focusing

whatever,” he murmurs, “Let’s

grabs mine, our palms pressing flat together, his fingers folding around mine in a way that

of warmth that floods my body as the magic again. pulses between us, as it always does when my hands touch him. My

brushed by them like a ghost, dragging

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