Sauter (Ironside Academy, #3)(26)

She frowned at him. “I haven’t had much of an appetite and I’m a little weak at the moment. It’s no big deal.”

“What’s in your bag?” he asked, his tone combative.

What the heck?

“Stuff.” She frowned harder, and he tipped toward her, quickly tugging on the zipper until he could pull open her bag to peer inside.

“Tissues,” he noted. “Cough drops, pills—”

“Allergy medication and anti-inflammatories,” she corrected. “Not pills.”

“Who prescribed them?”

“Someone on my father’s team.”

“Exactly.” He zipped her bag back up, leaning away from her again, though he kept her trapped in his gaze. “But your bond specialist prescribed you something else, didn’t she?”

Isobel wanted to hit him.

He waited, and when she didn’t answer, his stern expression melted into a soft, wry smile. “We only have a bit over a week left until summer break. Have you thought about who you’re going to take home with you?”

She stilled. He was right.

They were almost at the end of the final term, and she had two impossible deadlines looming—deadlines she had conveniently forgotten about while she was getting over what Eve and Aron had done to her.

There was still the anonymous texter who had ordered her to find out how to get into the Icon club, and there was Wallis, whose life she was supposed to somehow ruin.

At first, she had naively hoped that Eve had been the texter, but despite Eve’s absence, the messages had continued. Usually, the texter just sent a number of days until the end of term, sometimes accompanied by an assurance not to fuck with them. Sometimes it was just a picture of her walking to class with her head tucked down. It was a constant effort to keep the pressure on her, to make sure she couldn’t forget.

“Wait.” She blinked away the heavy thoughts. “I can take someone home with me?”

“How else will you survive summer break?” Cian raised dark gold brows, his teeth flashing in a lazy smile.

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” she admitted. She couldn’t think past the impossible tasks ahead of her. “I’ll have to talk to my father about it.” Time was slipping away. She seemed to be stuck in the trauma of what Eve had done, unable to think too many steps into the future before the memories dragged her right back again, phantom pain shooting through her arms.

“Still hoping Prince Charming is going to walk into one of the settlements and report a funky eye colour?” Cian asked knowingly.

She rolled her eyes, trying to elbow him, but he only grabbed her elbow and then used it to pull her up to her feet. He tugged her onto his lap, his free hand quickly looping her legs to the side so she wouldn’t flash the cameras. She found herself sitting sideways, staring at Moses, who had glanced up from his phone at all the movement.

“Is that necessary?” Moses asked, sounding annoyed.

“She has a bag full of medication and she’s lost weight,” Cian snapped back. “So I’m guessing it is.”

Moses rolled his eyes, slumping back in his chair and tapping his phone distractedly against his thigh. “Where the hell are the chocolates? Chocolate will help.”

“Chocolate?” Cian asked, scanning the crowd.

His hand was still on her leg, just above her knee, that touch alone flooding her body with warmth as his tattooed thumb brushed back and forth, the contrast of his dark, tattooed skin against her fair, unadorned skin drawing her eyes again and again.

“Well, food in general,” Moses muttered like he suddenly didn’t want to be involved in the conversation. “You’re supposed to be reminding her to eat.”

Niko stepped up to the stage and Moses pointed to the flowers at the base of the camera stand. “Those are for you.”

Niko looked from the flowers, to Moses, and back to the flowers, confusion descending over his features.

Isobel quickly jumped up, hurrying over to him, and picking up both bouquets. She pushed one of them into his arms. “Just one of them.” She wanted to fret over the already-wilting petals but pulled her hand back, forcing herself not to fidget. “Sorry … I didn’t have much time to prepare.”

Niko gave her a lopsided smile—the brilliant, beautiful flash of teeth that he shared with the camera, and never her.

“Thanks, Carter.” His attention flicked to her chest for a second, his eyes darkening briefly before clearing so fast she could have easily imagined the shadow of emotion. “You good?”

She nodded, her throat tight.

He surveyed her for a second more before passing her and finding his seat, leaving her to face Kilian. She froze, waiting as Kilian stepped up to her, his pale eyes brushing over the flowers in her arms. “Those for me, Illy?”

He had used her nickname. That seemed significant, somehow. Like he was secretly telling her that everything was fine. Theodore was the only one who used her nickname, the rest of them choosing to call her by her first name, her last name, her rank, or a random—sometimes disparaging—pet name. And sometimes the name of a literal pet.

She nodded, holding the bundle of flowers out silently.

His eyes lightened, crinkling at the corners, his lush lips quirking up. Her heart threatened to tear out of her chest. Holy crap she was nervous.