The Fight In Us: A Brother's Best Friend College Romance (The Four Book 4) by Becca Steele (little readers .txt) 📕

her soft tremble, but she inclined her head towards me, and I slanted my mouth over hers. She melted beneath me as I explored her mouth, touching, teasing, tasting. Her hand slid up around the back of my neck, holding me in place as her body shivered against mine.

Fuck. She tasted so good.

Through the haze of alcohol and weed, my brain reminded me that this wasn’t a good idea. Drunk, high, confused, and all the other fucked-up emotions I’d been experiencing—I didn’t need to drag Lena into my shit. Not to mention, Cass would kill me. If I ever spoke to him again.

With an effort, I drew back, leaving her lying there staring up at me with wide eyes, her lips wet and swollen. She sucked in a shaky breath, then cleared her throat. “Uh.”

I waited, but it didn’t seem like she was planning on saying anything else. “Wanna watch something?” I suggested, when the silence became uncomfortable.

“Yeah.” Her mouth curved up into a half-smile, and before I knew what I was doing, I found myself pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Straightening up, I grinned down at her as she rubbed her hand across her face, gathering herself.

We stumbled back inside, not drunk but both of us buzzed enough that our progress was unsteady. She began heading in the direction of the media room, but I caught her arm, tugging her back against my chest. “Your room.” I didn’t miss her shiver at my low command, and I smiled again, loving the way her body fit perfectly against mine, her reaction to me heady and intoxicating.

Of course, Lena being Lena, she pulled away from me. I could almost see her shields dropping back into place as she took off down the stairs towards her bedroom.

When I crashed through her doorway, steadying myself on the frame, she was hitting the keyboard that stood in front of the huge monitor on her desk. I didn’t even look at the screen. My brain had shut down, and all I wanted was to feel her body against me again. Stalking up behind her, I gripped her around her waist, pulling her into my chest, and threw us both back on the bed.

“Wait!” The urgency in Lena’s tone made me pause.

“What’s wrong?”

Her eyes flicked between me and her desk, and then she composed herself. “Nothing. What do you want to watch?”

“Whatever you want.”

“What about that new series about serial killers?”

I took in the expression on her face and raised a brow. “Serial killers, huh?”

She nodded. “Yep.”

With a shrug, I settled back against her headboard. “Yeah, okay. Sounds good.”

Hours later, I woke, my eyes gritty and my mouth dry. Dragging my phone from my pocket, I squinted at the screen. Four forty-two in the morning. The room was dark, but I could dimly make out Lena curled up on the far side of her bed, away from me. Careful not to disturb her, I moved off the bed and headed into her bathroom, where I downed a glass of water and helped myself to her mouthwash.

Feeling more human, I returned to her bedroom, leaving the bathroom light on and the door ajar so I could see what I was doing. My keys had been digging into my leg, left in my pocket for however many hours I’d been lying there, so I fished them out and placed them on Lena’s desk, as soundlessly as I could. As I slid my hand away, I knocked Lena’s computer mouse, waking up the screen. The TV app was still open, scrolling through the menu showing the latest available series.

I hit the button to close out of the app, and at the same time, a blinking message alert in the corner of the screen caught my eye.

A very familiar message alert.

What the fuck? Clicking on the icon, I was faced with a login screen I knew all too well.

Wait.

The pieces fell into place.

Striding over to the bed, I flicked on the bedside lamp, then shook Lena’s shoulder, gritting my teeth. There had to be an explanation for this.

Her eyes flew open, and as she took in the expression on my face, hers paled. “What’s happened?”

“You’ve got some explaining to do, Lena.” I took a harsh breath. “Or should I call you Mercury?”

TWELVE

This couldn’t be happening. It was a dream. No, not a dream. A nightmare. But as I stared up at Weston, watching his face torn between anger and pleading, I knew I had to come clean.

Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I cleared my throat, pulling myself into a seated position.

“What are you talking about?” My voice was shaky.

“Don’t insult my intelligence. I saw your computer. I saw the login screen and the message alert.”

His eyes pleaded with me to deny what he was saying, to come up with any explanation that would mean he was wrong.

“Okay.” He was making me nervous, looming over the bed. Why did he affect me this way? “Can you sit down?” I figured it was best to go with full honesty. “You’re…you’re making me nervous.”

He frowned but took a seat on the bed, his eyes never leaving mine.

“You’re right,” I said quietly, then spoke the words that I knew would change things irreversibly between us. “I’m Mercury. And I know you’re Nitro.”

The room fell deadly silent.

His jaw worked, his expressive eyes flitting through a whirlwind of emotions, before he closed them.

When he opened his eyes again, my heart fractured as I watched him shut down. It was like the last bit of light in him had been extinguished. His eyes were dead, his expression blank.

“Please explain,” he said tonelessly, and tears filled my eyes.

“West.” I reached for him, my hand shaking.

“No.”

I pulled my hand back as if it was on fire. “I-I’m Mercury, yes. I didn’t know that you were Nitro until…until some of the stuff you asked me to look into proved to me who you were. Everything that was happening with